This Chanticleer his wings began to beat, As man that could not his treasón espy, So was he ravish’d with his flattery. Alas! ye lordës, many a false flattour Is in your court, and many a losengeour, That pleasë you well morë, by my faith, Than he that soothfastness unto you saith. Read in Ecclesiast of flattery; Beware, ye lordës, of their treachery. This Chanticleer stood high upon his toes, Stretching his neck, and held his eyen close, And gan to crowë loudë for the nonce: And Dan Russel the fox start up at once, And by the gorgat hentë Chanticleer, And on his back toward the wood him bare. For yet was there no man that him pursu’d. O destiny, that may’st not be eschew’d! Alas, that Chanticleer flew from the beams! Alas, his wifë raughtë nought of dreams! And on a Friday fell all this mischance. O Venus, that art goddess of pleasánce, Since that thy servant was this Chanticleer And in thy service did all his powére, More for delight, than the world to multiply, Why wilt thou suffer him on thy day to die? O Gaufrid, dearë master sovereign, That, when thy worthy king Richárd was slain With shot, complainedest his death so sore, Why n’ had I now thy sentence and thy lore, The Friday for to chiden, as did ye? (For on a Friday, soothly, slain was he), Then would I shew you how that I could plain For Chanticleerë’s dread, and for his pain.
Certes such cry nor lamentatión Was ne’er of ladies made, when Ilión Was won, and Pyrrhus with his straightë swerd, When he had hent king Priam by the beard, And slain him (as saith us Eneidos ), As maden all the hennës in the close, When they had seen of Chanticleer the sight. But sov’reignly Dame Partelotë shright, Full louder than did Hasdrubalë’s wife, When that her husband haddë lost his life, And that the Romans had y-burnt Cartháge; She was so full of torment and of rage, That wilfully into the fire she start, And burnt herselfë with a steadfast heart. O woeful hennës! right so criëd ye, As, when that Nero burned the citý Of Romë, cried the senatorës’ wives, For that their husbands losten all their lives; Withoutë guilt this Nero hath them slain.