Відгуки відвідувачів - Написати рецензію
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Abbot againe ancient answer arms arrowe Arthur backe ballad bears began blow bold bring broad brother called castle court crowne deare death doth Douglas downe Earl England faire feare fellowe fight forest foule gave Gawaine gentle give gold gone hall hand harpe hast hath head heare heart Heire of Linne hill Hood horse John King knee knight Kyng lady ladye land leave letter live look Lord marches mind minstrel never noble o'the Scales Persé prince queene quoth ride Robin Robin Hood rode round sayd Sayes Scots shalt shold song soon sore stand steed strong sword tell thee thou told took tree unto Valentine wife wold woods yield youth
Сторінка 75 - For twelve month and a day, To lend to him an hundred crownes : And he for it would pay Whatsoever he would demand of him. And pledges he should have. ' No,' (quoth the Jew with flearing lookes) ' Sir, aske what you will have.
Сторінка 147 - O these are hard questions for my shallow wit, Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet : But if you will give me but three weeks' space, I'll do my endeavour to answer your grace." " Now three weeks' space to thee will I give, And that is the longest time thou hast to live ; For if thou dost not answer my questions three, Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to me.
Сторінка 194 - The spear against the gyant glanc'd, And caus'd the blood to burst. Mad and outrageous with the pain, He whirl'd his mace of steel : The very wind of such a blow $$ Had made the champion reel. It haply mist ; and now the knight His glittering sword display'd, And riding round with whirlwind speed Oft made him feel the blade.
Сторінка 147 - O, these are hard questions for my shallow witt, Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet : But if you will give me but three weekes space, He do my endeavour to answer your grace. Now three weeks...
Сторінка 64 - In hope some comfort for to winne; But bare and lothly were the walles ; " Here's sorry cheare," quo' the heire of Linne* The little windowe, dim and darke, Was hung with ivy, brere, and yewe...
Сторінка 83 - Content I live, this is my stay; I seek no more than may suffice; I press to bear no haughty sway; Look, what I lack my mind supplies. Lo, thus I triumph like a king, Content with that my mind doth bring.
Сторінка 84 - They are but poor, though much they have, And I am rich with little store. They poor, I rich ; they beg, I give ; They lack, I lend : they pine, I live.
Сторінка 182 - gins to decke the fields With colours fresh and fine, Then holy clerkes their mattins sing To good Saint Valentine ! The king of France that morning fair He would a hunting ride : To Artois forest prancing forth In all his princelye pride. To grace his sports a courtly train Of gallant peers attend ; And with their loud and cheerful cryes The hills and valleys rend. Through the deep forest swift they pass, Through woods and thickets wild...
Сторінка 148 - Now cheare up, sire abbot ; did you never hear yet, That a fool he may learn a wise man witt ? Lend me horse, and serving men, and your apparel, And I'll ride to London to answer your quarrel.