From Geoffrey Chaucer's "The Canterbury Tales", The Tale of Sir Thopas, lines 58-76

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From The Tale of Sir Thopas, lines 22-57:
About a knight called Sir Thopas

From The Canterbury Tales:
The Tale of Sir Thopas
lines 58-76: Sir Thopas wishes to marry an elf-queen

	And so bifel upon a day,
	For sothe as I yow telle may,
60	Sir Thopas wolde out ride;
	He worth upon his steede gray,
	And in his hand a launcegay,
	A long swerd by his side.

	And so it happened, on a day,
	In truth, as I can tell or may,
60	Sir Thopas out would ride;
	He mounted on his stallion grey,
	And held in hand a lance, I say,
	With longsword by his side.

       He priketh thurgh a fair forest,

65 Therinne is many a wilde best,

       Ye, both bukke and hare,

And as he priketh north and est,

I telle it yow, hym hadde almest

       Bitidde a sory care.

       He spurred throughout a fair forest

65 Wherein was many a dim wild beast,

       Aye, both the buck and hare;

And as he spurred on, north and east,

I tell you now he had, in breast,

       A melancholy care.

70        Ther spryngen herbes, grete and smale,

The lycorys and cetewale,

       And many a clowe-gylofre,

And notemuge to putte in ale,

Wheither it be moyste or stale,

75        Or for to leye in cofre.

70        There herbs were springing, great and small,

The licorice blue and white setwall,

       And many a gillyflower,

And nutmeg for to put in ale,

All whether it be fresh or stale,

75        Or lay in chest in bower.

       The briddes synge, it is no nay,

The sparhauk and the papejay

       That joye it was to heere,

The thrustelcok made eek hir lay,

80 The wodedowve upon a spray

       She sang ful loude and cleere.

       The birds they sang, upon that day,

The sparrow-hawk and popinjay,

       Till it was joy to hear;

The missel thrush he made his lay,

80 The tender stockdove on the spray,

       She sang full loud and clear.

       Sir Thopas fil in love-longynge,

Al whan he herde the thrustel synge,

       And pryked as he were wood;

85 His faire steede in his prikynge

So swatte that men myghte him wrynge,

       His sydes were al blood.

       She sang full loud and clear.

All when he heard the throstle sing,

       And spurred as madman would:

85 His stallion fair, for this spurring,

Did sweat till men his coat might wring,

       His two flanks were all blood.

       Sir Thopas eek so wery was

For prikyng on the softe gras,

90        So fiers was his corage,

That doun he leyde him in that plas

To make his steede som solas,

       And yaf hym good forage.

       Sir Thopas grown so weary was

With spurring on the yielding grass,

90        So fierce had been his speed,

That down he laid him in that place

To give the stallion some solace

       And let him find his feed.

       "O seinte Marie, benedicite,

95 What eyleth this love at me

       To bynde me so soore?

Me dremed al this nyght, pardee,

An elf-queene shal my lemman be,

       And slepe under my goore.

       "O holy Mary, ben'cite!

95 What ails my heart that love in me

       Should bind me now so sore?

For dreamed I all last night, pardie,

An elf-queen shall my darling be,

       And sleep beneath my gore.

100        An elf-queene wol I love, ywis,

For in this world no womman is

       Worthy to be my make

                     In towne;

       Alle othere wommen I forsake,

105 And to an elf-queene I me take

       By dale and eek by downe!"

100        An elf-queen will I love, ywis,

For in this world no woman is

       Worthy to be my make

                     In town;

       All other women I forsake,

105 And to an elf-queen I'll betake

       Myself, by dale and down!"

Next:
From The Tale of Sir Thopas, lines 107-142:
Sir Thopas meets Sir Oliphant who blocks the way to fairyland