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From The Clerk's Tale, lines 1128-1141:
Nothing but peace and prosperity
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From The Canterbury Tales:
The Clerk's Tale
lines 1142-1176: The moral of the Clerk's tale

       This storie is seyd, nat for that wyves sholde
Folwen Grisilde as in humylitee,
For it were inportable, though they wolde,
1145But for that every wight in his degree
Sholde be constant in adversitee
As was Grisilde. Therfore Petrark writeth
This storie, which with heigh stile he enditeth.
       This story's told here, not that all wives should
Follow Griselda in humility,
For this would be unbearable, though they would,
1145But just that everyone, in his degree,
Should be as constant in adversity
As was Griselda; for that Petrarch wrote
This tale, and in a high style, as you'll note.

       For sith a womman was so pacient
1150Unto a mortal man, wel moore us oghte
Receyven al in gree that God us sent.
For greet skile is, he preeve that he wroghte.
But he ne tempteth no man that he boghte,
As seith Seint Jame, if ye his pistel rede;
1155He preeveth folk al day, it is no drede,
       For since a woman once was so patient
1150Before a mortal man, well more we ought
Receive in good part that which God has sent;
For cause he has to prove what he has wrought.
But he tempts no man that his blood has bought,
As James says, if you his epistle read;
1155Yet does he prove folk at all times, indeed,

       And suffreth us, as for oure excercise,
With sharpe scourges of adversitee
Ful ofte to be bete in sondry wise,
Nat for to knowe oure wyl, for certes he
1160Er we were born knew al oure freletee,
And for oure beste is al his governaunce.
Lat us thanne lyve in vertuous suffraunce.
       And suffers us, for our good exercise,
With the sharp scourges of adversity
To be well beaten oft, in sundry wise;
Not just to learn our will; for truly He,
1160Before we were born, did all our frailty see;
But for our good is all that He doth give.
So then in virtuous patience let us live.

       But o word, lordynges, herkneth er I go,
It were ful hard to fynde nowadayes
1165In al a toun Grisildis thre or two;
For it that they were put to swiche assayes,
The gold of hem hath now so badde alayes
With bras, that thogh the coyne be fair at eye,
It wolde rather breste atwo than plye.
       But one word, masters, listen before I go:
One hardly can discover nowadays,
1165In all a town, Griseldas three or two;
For, if they should be put to such assays,
Their gold's so badly alloyed, in such ways,
With brass, that though the coin delight the eye,
'Twill rather break in two than bend, say I.

1170        For which, heere for the Wyves love of Bathe,
Whos lyf and al hir seete God mayntene
In heigh maistrie, and elles were it scathe,
I wol with lusty herte fressh and grene
Seyn yow a song, to glade yow, I wene,
1175And lat us stynte of ernestful matere.
Herkneth my song, that seith in this manere.
1170        But now, for love of the good wife of Bath,
Whose life and all whose sex may God maintain
In mastery high, or else it were but scathe,
I will with joyous spirit fresh and green
Sing you a song to gladden you, I ween;
1175From all such serious matters let's be gone;
Listen to my song, which runs in this way on:

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From The Clerk's Tale, lines 1177-1212:
Lenvoy de Chaucer