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ea11f56
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3440 An hole he fond3440, ful lowe upon a bord, Theras3441 the cat was wont in for to crepe, And at that hole he looked in ful depe3442, And atte laste he hadde of him a sighte.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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1295ce2
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Till we be roten, kan we not be rypen?
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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d41db11
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A bettre preest, I trowe that nowher noon is. He wayted after no pompe and reverence, 525 Ne maked him a spyced conscience, But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve, He taughte, and first he folwed it him-selve.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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f880938
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Aos amantes apresento esta questao: quem o mais desditoso, Arcita ou Palamon? Este avistava a amada todo dia, mas nao podia abandonar o carcere; aquele tinha toda a liberdade, mas nunca mais veria o seu amor.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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672a2ab
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la plenitud de la felicidad consistia en el deleite perfecto,
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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d5cfad9
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Las palabras deben corresponder a la accion>>.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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1331af2
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Have do," qoud she, "come of, cand speed the fase, Lest that oure neighbores thee espie." This Absolon gan wype his mouth ful drie. Derk was the nyght as pich, or as the cole, And athe wydnow out she putte hir hole, And Absolon, hym fil no bet new wers, but with his mouth he kiste hir naked ers Ful savourly, er he were war of this. Abak he stirte, and thoughte it was amys, For wel he wiste a woman hath no berd. He felte athyng al rough and ..
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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9434df6
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Nature, the vicar of the Almightie Lord.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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cbcfb0d
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Harde is his herte that loveth noughtIn Mey, ...
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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6141ede
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Of harmes two the lesse is for to cheese.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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97599e2
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It is nought good a slepyng hound to wake.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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776966b
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He helde about him alway, out of drede, A world of folke.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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8fc54d4
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For tyme y-lost may not recovered be.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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958928a
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I am right sorry for your heavinesse.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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0aecd7b
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Go, little booke! go, my little tragedie!
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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9be8ae1
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And of his port as meke as is a mayde.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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98b8cf8
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He was a verray, parfit gentil knyght.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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71c18c1
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A Clerk ther was of Oxenforde also.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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524a586
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Nowher so bisy a man as he ther nas, And yet he semed bisier than he was.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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63399e0
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His studie was but litel on the Bible.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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b9d88d2
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For gold in phisike is a cordial; Therefore he loved gold in special.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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1459b0e
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Wide was his parish, and houses fer asonder.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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ae513bc
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And yet he had a thomb of gold parde.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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26e8e89
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The smylere with the knyf under the cloke.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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1f5aaca
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That field hath eyen, and the wood hath ears.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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270557d
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Up rose the sonne, and up rose Emelie.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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fe62ed1
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Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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a0a2fa0
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To maken vertue of necessite.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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36a638d
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Men sholde wedden after hir estat, For youthe and elde is often at debat.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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57862e4
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And brought of mighty ale a large quart.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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fa9afae
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The gretteste clerkes been noght wisest men.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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859548f
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Yet in our ashen cold is fire yreken.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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bce7a12
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The gretest clerkes ben not the wisest men.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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ae70376
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So was hire joly whistle wel ywette.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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812c382
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I hold a mouses wit not worth a leke, That hath but on hole for to sterten to.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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8d4ea24
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That he is gentil that doth gentil dedis.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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8dd02a6
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For thogh we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ryde, Ay fleeth the tyme; it nyl no man abyde.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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439e980
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This flour of wifly patience.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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ace3716
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Ther nis no werkman, whatsoevere he be, That may bothe werke wel and hastily.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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f40b6ed
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Therfore bihoveth hire a ful long spoon That shal ete with a feend.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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b4371c6
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They demen gladly to the badder end.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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b7eb15e
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Fie on possession, But if a man be vertuous withal.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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265ef81
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Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.
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Geoffrey Chaucer |
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1377217
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Ful wys is he that kan hymselven knowe!
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Geoffrey Chaucer |