The Second Fit
Now hold your mouth, par charitee,
Bothe knight and lady free,
And hearken to my spell;
Of battle and of chivalry,
Of ladies' love and druerie,
Anon I will you tell.

Men speak of romances of price
Of Horn Child, and of Ipotis,
Of Bevis, and Sir Guy,
Of Sir Libeux, and Pleindamour,
But Sir Thopas, he bears the flow'r
Of royal chivalry.

His goode steed he all bestrode,
And forth upon his way he glode,
As sparkle out of brand; torch
Upon his crest he bare a tow'r,
And therein stick'd a lily flow'r;
God shield his corse from shand!

And, for he was a knight auntrous,
He woulde sleepen in none house,
But liggen in his hood, lie
His brighte helm was his wanger,
And by him baited his destrer
Of herbes fine and good.
Himself drank water of the well,
As did the knight Sir Percivel,
So worthy under weed;
Till on a day - . . .