Habit Maketh No Monk, Ne Wearing Of

Men Love Newfangleness.

Thou Shalt Make Castels Thanne In Spayne And Dreme Of Joye, All But In Vayne.

Nature, The Vicar Of The Almighty Lord.

Fo Lo, The Gentil Kind Of The Lioun! For When A Flye Offendeth Him Or Byteth, He With His Tayl Awey The Flye Smyteth Al Esily, For, Of His Genterye, Him Deyneth Net To Wreke Him On A Flye, As Cloth A Curre Or Elles Another Beste.

Thus With Hir Fader For A Certeyn Space Dwelleth This Flour Of Wyfly Pacience, That Neither By Hir Wordes Ne Hir Face Biforn The Folk, Ne Eek In Her Absence, Ne Shewed She That Hir Was Doon Offence.