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And everich of thise ryotoures ran, Til he cam to that tree, and ther they founde Of florins fyne of golde y-coyned rounde Wel ny an eighte busshels, as hem thoughte. No lenger thanne after Deeth they soughte, But ech of hem so glad was of that sighte, For that the florins been so faire and brighte, That doun they sette hem by this precious hord. The worste of hem he spake the firste word. And everich of thise ryotoures ran, Til he cam to that tree, and ther they founde Of florins fyne of golde y-coyned rounde Wel ny an eighte busshels, as hem thoughte. No lenger thanne after Deeth they soughte, But ech of hem so glad was of that sighte, For that the florins been so faire and brighte, That doun they sette hem by this precious hord. The worste of hem he spake the firste word.
‘Brethren,’ quod he, ‘tak kepe what I seye; My wit is greet, though that I bourde and pleye. This tresor hath fortune unto us yiven, In mirthe and Iolitee our lyf to liven, And lightly as it comth, so wol we spende. Ey! Goddes precious dignitee! who wende To-day, that we sholde han so fair a grace? But mighte this gold be caried fro this place Hoom to myn hous, or elles unto youres— For wel ye woot that al this gold is oures— Than were we in heigh felicitee. But trewely, by daye it may nat be; Men wolde seyn that we were theves stronge, And for our owene tresor doon us honge. This tresor moste y-caried be by nighte As wysly and as slyly as it mighte. Wherfore I rede that cut among us alle Be drawe, and lat se wher the cut wol falle; And he that hath the cut with herte blythe Shal renne to the toune, and that ful swythe, And bringe us breed and wyn ful prively. And two of us shul kepen subtilly This tresor wel; and, if he wol nat tarie, Whan it is night, we wol this tresor carie ‘Brethren,’ quod he, ‘tak kepe what I seye; My wit is greet, though that I bourde and pleye. This tresor hath fortune unto us yiven, In mirthe and Iolitee our lyf to liven, And lightly as it comth, so wol we spende. Ey! Goddes precious dignitee! who wende To-day, that we sholde han so fair a grace? But mighte this gold be caried fro this place Hoom to myn hous, or elles unto youres— For wel ye woot that al this gold is oures— Than were we in heigh felicitee. But trewely, by daye it may nat be; Men wolde seyn that we were theves stronge, And for our owene tresor doon us honge. This tresor moste y-caried be by nighte As wysly and as slyly as it mighte. Wherfore I rede that cut among us alle Be drawe, and lat se wher the cut wol falle; And he that hath the cut with herte blythe Shal renne to the toune, and that ful swythe, And bringe us breed and wyn ful prively. And two of us shul kepen subtilly This tresor wel; and, if he wol nat tarie, Whan it is night, we wol this tresor carie

Original Text

Modern Text

And everich of thise ryotoures ran, Til he cam to that tree, and ther they founde Of florins fyne of golde y-coyned rounde Wel ny an eighte busshels, as hem thoughte. No lenger thanne after Deeth they soughte, But ech of hem so glad was of that sighte, For that the florins been so faire and brighte, That doun they sette hem by this precious hord. The worste of hem he spake the firste word. And everich of thise ryotoures ran, Til he cam to that tree, and ther they founde Of florins fyne of golde y-coyned rounde Wel ny an eighte busshels, as hem thoughte. No lenger thanne after Deeth they soughte, But ech of hem so glad was of that sighte, For that the florins been so faire and brighte, That doun they sette hem by this precious hord. The worste of hem he spake the firste word.
‘Brethren,’ quod he, ‘tak kepe what I seye; My wit is greet, though that I bourde and pleye. This tresor hath fortune unto us yiven, In mirthe and Iolitee our lyf to liven, And lightly as it comth, so wol we spende. Ey! Goddes precious dignitee! who wende To-day, that we sholde han so fair a grace? But mighte this gold be caried fro this place Hoom to myn hous, or elles unto youres— For wel ye woot that al this gold is oures— Than were we in heigh felicitee. But trewely, by daye it may nat be; Men wolde seyn that we were theves stronge, And for our owene tresor doon us honge. This tresor moste y-caried be by nighte As wysly and as slyly as it mighte. Wherfore I rede that cut among us alle Be drawe, and lat se wher the cut wol falle; And he that hath the cut with herte blythe Shal renne to the toune, and that ful swythe, And bringe us breed and wyn ful prively. And two of us shul kepen subtilly This tresor wel; and, if he wol nat tarie, Whan it is night, we wol this tresor carie ‘Brethren,’ quod he, ‘tak kepe what I seye; My wit is greet, though that I bourde and pleye. This tresor hath fortune unto us yiven, In mirthe and Iolitee our lyf to liven, And lightly as it comth, so wol we spende. Ey! Goddes precious dignitee! who wende To-day, that we sholde han so fair a grace? But mighte this gold be caried fro this place Hoom to myn hous, or elles unto youres— For wel ye woot that al this gold is oures— Than were we in heigh felicitee. But trewely, by daye it may nat be; Men wolde seyn that we were theves stronge, And for our owene tresor doon us honge. This tresor moste y-caried be by nighte As wysly and as slyly as it mighte. Wherfore I rede that cut among us alle Be drawe, and lat se wher the cut wol falle; And he that hath the cut with herte blythe Shal renne to the toune, and that ful swythe, And bringe us breed and wyn ful prively. And two of us shul kepen subtilly This tresor wel; and, if he wol nat tarie, Whan it is night, we wol this tresor carie