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"By cause drynke hath dominacioun, |
| Upon this man, by my savacioun, |
| I trowe he lewedly wolde telle his tale. |
60 | For, were it wyn, or oold or moysty ale, |
| That he hath dronke, he speketh in his nose, |
| And fneseth faste, and eek he hath the pose. |
| He hath also to do moore than ynough |
| To kepen hym and his capul out of slough, |
65 | And if he falle from his capul eftsoone, |
| Thanne shal we alle have ynogh to doone |
| In liftyng up his hevy dronken cors. |
| Telle on thy tale, of hym make I no fors; |
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"Since drink has got such utter domination |
| Over this fellow here, by my salvation, |
| I think that badly he would tell his tale. |
60 | For whether wine or old or musty ale |
| Is what he's drunk, he speaks all through his nose; |
| He snorts hard and with cold he's lachrymose. |
| Also he has more than enough to do |
| To keep him and his nag out of the slough; |
65 | And if he fall down off his horse again, |
| We'll all have quite enough of labour then |
| In lifting up his heavy drunken corse. |
| Tell on your tale, he matters not, of course. |
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