English Masterpieces, Volume 1P. Owen, 1957 |
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Page 78
... lady , grant me this grace that ye pray your prisoner to rise . I would get me from bed , and array me better , then could I talk with ye in more comfort . " " Nay , forsooth , fair sir , " quoth the lady , " ye shall not rise , I will ...
... lady , grant me this grace that ye pray your prisoner to rise . I would get me from bed , and array me better , then could I talk with ye in more comfort . " " Nay , forsooth , fair sir , " quoth the lady , " ye shall not rise , I will ...
Page 79
... lady , fair to look upon , made him great cheer , and Sir Gawain , with modest words , answered her again : " Madam , " he quoth , " may Mary requite ye , for in good faith I have found in ye a noble frankness . Much courtesy have other ...
... lady , fair to look upon , made him great cheer , and Sir Gawain , with modest words , answered her again : " Madam , " he quoth , " may Mary requite ye , for in good faith I have found in ye a noble frankness . Much courtesy have other ...
Page 86
... lady that ye care not to loose it — and that am I now fain to believe . And now I pray ye straitly that ye tell me that in truth , and hide it not . " And the knight answered . " By Saint John " ( and he smiled as he spake ) , " no such ...
... lady that ye care not to loose it — and that am I now fain to believe . And now I pray ye straitly that ye tell me that in truth , and hide it not . " And the knight answered . " By Saint John " ( and he smiled as he spake ) , " no such ...
Contents
1425 | 3 |
MIDDLE ENGLISH LITERATURE | 58 |
GEOFFREY CHAUCER | 97 |
Copyright | |
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1st Shep 2nd Shep 3rd Shep beauty Ben Jonson Beowulf called Chaucer court dead dear death doth earth Ecgtheow English eyes fair father fear frier give glory gold grace green Grendel hand hath head Healfdene heard heart Heaven Hell Heorot hero honor Hrothgar Hygelac Iliad John Johnson Jutes king King Arthur knight lady leave live look Lord Lord Randal Majesty mind morning mother nature never noble o'er Ovid poem poet poetry praise prince Queen quoth Robin Hood round Scyldings shal sing Sir Bedivere Sir Gawain Sir Lucan Sir Mordred song soon soul sweet sword tell thee ther thine things thou hast thought took tree twa sisters unto verse whan wife wolde words