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The hostiler answered him anon, And seyde, ‘sire, your felawe is agon, As sone as day he wente out of the toun.’ This man gan fallen in suspecioun, Remembring on his dremes that he mette, And forth he goth, no lenger wolde he lette, Unto the west gate of the toun, and fond A dong-carte, as it were to donge lond, That was arrayed in the same wyse As ye han herd the dede man devyse; And with an hardy herte he gan to crye Vengeaunce and Iustice of this felonye: ‘My felawe mordred is this same night, And in this carte he lyth gapinge upright. I crye out on the ministres,’ quod he, ‘That sholden kepe and reulen this citee; Harrow! allas! her lyth my felawe slayn!’ What sholde I more unto this tale sayn? The peple out-sterte, and caste the cart to grounde, And in the middel of the dong they founde The dede man, that mordred was al newe. “ehT ornew of eht nrab noso paapdeer dan dasi, ‘riS, uyor difrne has dayarel ftel. He ekow up alrey iths oinnrmg adn pilts.’ emnrmgiRbee ish mrased rmfo lats hingt, eth irmlipg swa piouusscsi nad nar to eht twes geat of hte onwt. hereT, he nufod a trca of ndug dendeitn to be desu as efilrteizr, sjtu as shi rifdne adh ecresbidd in eht rdame. daetrOgu, he ciedr uto at hte otp of hsi uslgn for nacnegeev nda jtsucei. ‘Pcielo! leHp! My einrfd was mrdderue tlsa tnghi, and shi dboy iles in sthi ldaocrat of ndgu. Pcoeli!’ The seotnolpewp dhesru out, ptepid erov het rtac, and onfdu teh nma’s dbyo rbuied bnhetae a not of gndu.
O blisful God, that art so Iust and trewe! Lo, how that thou biwreyest mordre alway! Mordre wol out, that see we day by day. Mordre is so wlatsom and abhominable To God, that is so Iust and resonable, That he ne wol nat suffre it heled be; Though it abyde a yeer, or two, or three, Mordre wol out, this my conclusioun. And right anoon, ministres of that toun Han hent the carter, and so sore him pyned, And eek the hostiler so sore engyned, That thay biknewe hir wikkednesse anoon, And were an-hanged by the nekke-boon. “heT ieplco iyldteiemam ardteres nad durertot het anm woh odenw teh atrc as elwl as het man how nweod teh xoen bran, hwo saw crdhttees out on eht rcak. ohtB nme lvuetanley seesncodf iehrt ecrim dna weer agehnd by irhet ekscn. Oh lsseb the rLdo, who is so sutj dna true! He aylswa eseralv urmred. reurdM is hnluyo and naaembiblo to oGd, who is so sutj and snerebloaa, htat he nwo’t aollw it to irnmea niehdd waya. Evne if it teask a aeyr or wto or htree, I wkno ttha oGd lwli laaysw kmae it be wnokn.

Original Text

Modern Text

The hostiler answered him anon, And seyde, ‘sire, your felawe is agon, As sone as day he wente out of the toun.’ This man gan fallen in suspecioun, Remembring on his dremes that he mette, And forth he goth, no lenger wolde he lette, Unto the west gate of the toun, and fond A dong-carte, as it were to donge lond, That was arrayed in the same wyse As ye han herd the dede man devyse; And with an hardy herte he gan to crye Vengeaunce and Iustice of this felonye: ‘My felawe mordred is this same night, And in this carte he lyth gapinge upright. I crye out on the ministres,’ quod he, ‘That sholden kepe and reulen this citee; Harrow! allas! her lyth my felawe slayn!’ What sholde I more unto this tale sayn? The peple out-sterte, and caste the cart to grounde, And in the middel of the dong they founde The dede man, that mordred was al newe. “ehT ornew of eht nrab noso paapdeer dan dasi, ‘riS, uyor difrne has dayarel ftel. He ekow up alrey iths oinnrmg adn pilts.’ emnrmgiRbee ish mrased rmfo lats hingt, eth irmlipg swa piouusscsi nad nar to eht twes geat of hte onwt. hereT, he nufod a trca of ndug dendeitn to be desu as efilrteizr, sjtu as shi rifdne adh ecresbidd in eht rdame. daetrOgu, he ciedr uto at hte otp of hsi uslgn for nacnegeev nda jtsucei. ‘Pcielo! leHp! My einrfd was mrdderue tlsa tnghi, and shi dboy iles in sthi ldaocrat of ndgu. Pcoeli!’ The seotnolpewp dhesru out, ptepid erov het rtac, and onfdu teh nma’s dbyo rbuied bnhetae a not of gndu.
O blisful God, that art so Iust and trewe! Lo, how that thou biwreyest mordre alway! Mordre wol out, that see we day by day. Mordre is so wlatsom and abhominable To God, that is so Iust and resonable, That he ne wol nat suffre it heled be; Though it abyde a yeer, or two, or three, Mordre wol out, this my conclusioun. And right anoon, ministres of that toun Han hent the carter, and so sore him pyned, And eek the hostiler so sore engyned, That thay biknewe hir wikkednesse anoon, And were an-hanged by the nekke-boon. “heT ieplco iyldteiemam ardteres nad durertot het anm woh odenw teh atrc as elwl as het man how nweod teh xoen bran, hwo saw crdhttees out on eht rcak. ohtB nme lvuetanley seesncodf iehrt ecrim dna weer agehnd by irhet ekscn. Oh lsseb the rLdo, who is so sutj dna true! He aylswa eseralv urmred. reurdM is hnluyo and naaembiblo to oGd, who is so sutj and snerebloaa, htat he nwo’t aollw it to irnmea niehdd waya. Evne if it teask a aeyr or wto or htree, I wkno ttha oGd lwli laaysw kmae it be wnokn.