No Fear Literature: The Canterbury Tales: The Nun’s Priest’s Tale Page 1

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Original Text	Modern Text
HERE BIGINNETH THE NONNE PREESTES TALE OF THE COK AND HEN, CHAUNTECLEER AND PERTELOTE.	HERE BIGINNETH THE NONNE PREESTES TALE OF THE COK AND HEN, CHAUNTECLEER AND PERTELOTE.
A povre widwe, somdel stope in age, Was whylom dwelling in a narwe cotage, Bisyde a grove, stonding in a dale. This widwe, of which I telle yow my tale, Sin thilke day that she was last a wyf, In pacience ladde a ful simple lyf, For litel was hir catel and hir rente; By housbondrye, of such as God hir sente, She fond hir-self, and eek hir doghtren two. Three large sowes hadde she, and namo, Three kyn, and eek a sheep that highte Malle. Ful sooty was hir bour, and eek hir halle, In which she eet ful many a sclendre meel. Of poynaunt sauce hir neded never a deel. No deyntee morsel passed thurgh hir throte; Hir dyete was accordant to hir cote. Repleccioun ne made hir never syk; Attempree dyete was al hir phisyk, And exercyse, and hertes suffisaunce. The goute lette hir no-thing for to daunce, Napoplexye shente nat hir heed; No wyn ne drank she, neither whyt ne reed; Hir bord was served most with whyt and blak, Milk and broun breed, in which she fond no lak, Seynd bacoun, and somtyme an ey or tweye, For she was as it were a maner deye.	A povre widwe, somdel stope in age, Was whylom dwelling in a narwe cotage, Bisyde a grove, stonding in a dale. This widwe, of which I telle yow my tale, Sin thilke day that she was last a wyf, In pacience ladde a ful simple lyf, For litel was hir catel and hir rente; By housbondrye, of such as God hir sente, She fond hir-self, and eek hir doghtren two. Three large sowes hadde she, and namo, Three kyn, and eek a sheep that highte Malle. Ful sooty was hir bour, and eek hir halle, In which she eet ful many a sclendre meel. Of poynaunt sauce hir neded never a deel. No deyntee morsel passed thurgh hir throte; Hir dyete was accordant to hir cote. Repleccioun ne made hir never syk; Attempree dyete was al hir phisyk, And exercyse, and hertes suffisaunce. The goute lette hir no-thing for to daunce, Napoplexye shente nat hir heed; No wyn ne drank she, neither whyt ne reed; Hir bord was served most with whyt and blak, Milk and broun breed, in which she fond no lak, Seynd bacoun, and somtyme an ey or tweye, For she was as it were a maner deye.

Original Text	Modern Text
HERE BIGINNETH THE NONNE PREESTES TALE OF THE COK AND HEN, CHAUNTECLEER AND PERTELOTE.	HERE BIGINNETH THE NONNE PREESTES TALE OF THE COK AND HEN, CHAUNTECLEER AND PERTELOTE.
A povre widwe, somdel stope in age, Was whylom dwelling in a narwe cotage, Bisyde a grove, stonding in a dale. This widwe, of which I telle yow my tale, Sin thilke day that she was last a wyf, In pacience ladde a ful simple lyf, For litel was hir catel and hir rente; By housbondrye, of such as God hir sente, She fond hir-self, and eek hir doghtren two. Three large sowes hadde she, and namo, Three kyn, and eek a sheep that highte Malle. Ful sooty was hir bour, and eek hir halle, In which she eet ful many a sclendre meel. Of poynaunt sauce hir neded never a deel. No deyntee morsel passed thurgh hir throte; Hir dyete was accordant to hir cote. Repleccioun ne made hir never syk; Attempree dyete was al hir phisyk, And exercyse, and hertes suffisaunce. The goute lette hir no-thing for to daunce, Napoplexye shente nat hir heed; No wyn ne drank she, neither whyt ne reed; Hir bord was served most with whyt and blak, Milk and broun breed, in which she fond no lak, Seynd bacoun, and somtyme an ey or tweye, For she was as it were a maner deye.	A povre widwe, somdel stope in age, Was whylom dwelling in a narwe cotage, Bisyde a grove, stonding in a dale. This widwe, of which I telle yow my tale, Sin thilke day that she was last a wyf, In pacience ladde a ful simple lyf, For litel was hir catel and hir rente; By housbondrye, of such as God hir sente, She fond hir-self, and eek hir doghtren two. Three large sowes hadde she, and namo, Three kyn, and eek a sheep that highte Malle. Ful sooty was hir bour, and eek hir halle, In which she eet ful many a sclendre meel. Of poynaunt sauce hir neded never a deel. No deyntee morsel passed thurgh hir throte; Hir dyete was accordant to hir cote. Repleccioun ne made hir never syk; Attempree dyete was al hir phisyk, And exercyse, and hertes suffisaunce. The goute lette hir no-thing for to daunce, Napoplexye shente nat hir heed; No wyn ne drank she, neither whyt ne reed; Hir bord was served most with whyt and blak, Milk and broun breed, in which she fond no lak, Seynd bacoun, and somtyme an ey or tweye, For she was as it were a maner deye.