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A yeerd she hadde, enclosed al aboute |
| With stikkes, and a drye dych withoute, |
| In which she hadde a Cok, hight Chauntecleer, |
| In al the land of crowyng nas his peer. |
| 85 | His voys was murier than the murie orgon |
| On messe-dayes, that in the chirche gon. |
| Wel sikerer was his crowyng in his logge, |
| Than is a clokke, or an abbey orlogge. |
| By nature he crew eche ascencioun |
| 90 | Of the equynoxial in thilke toun; |
| For whan degrees fiftene weren ascended, |
| Thanne crew he, that it myghte nat been amended. |
| His coomb was redder than the fyn coral, |
| And batailled, as it were a castel wal. |
| 95 | His byle was blak, and as the jeet it shoon, |
| Lyk asure were hise legges and his toon, |
| His nayles whiter than the lylye flour, |
| And lyk the burned gold was his colour. |
| This gentil cok hadde in his governaunce |
| 100 | Sevene hennes, for to doon al his plesaunce, |
| Whiche were hise sustres and his paramours, |
| And wonder lyk to hym as of colours; |
| Of whiche the faireste hewed on hir throte |
| Was cleped faire damoysele Pertelote. |
| 105 | Curteys she was, discreet, and debonaire |
| And compaignable, and bar hyrself so faire |
| Syn thilke day that she was seven nyght oold, |
| That trewely she hath the herte in hoold |
| Of Chauntecleer loken in every lith. |
| 110 | He loved hire so, that wel was hym therwith. |
| But swich a joye was it to here hem synge |
| Whan that the brighte sonne gan to sprynge, |
| In sweete accord, "My lief is faren in londe!" |
| For thilke tyme, as I have understonde, |
| 115 | Beestes and briddes koude speke and synge. |
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A yard she had, enclosed all roundabout |
| With pales, and there was a dry ditch without, |
| And in the yard a cock called Chauntecleer. |
| In all the land, for crowing, he'd no peer. |
| 85 | His voice was merrier than the organ gay |
| On Mass days, which in church begins to play; |
| More regular was his crowing in his lodge |
| Than is a clock or abbey horologe. |
| By instinct he'd marked each ascension down |
| 90 | Of equinoctial value in that town; |
| For when fifteen degrees had been ascended, |
| Then crew he so it might not be amended. |
| His comb was redder than a fine coral, |
| And battlemented like a castle wall. |
| 95 | His bill was black and just like jet it shone; |
| Like azure were his legs and toes, each one; |
| His spurs were whiter than the lily flower; |
| And plumage of the burnished gold his dower. |
| This noble cock had in his governance |
| 100 | Seven hens to give him pride and all pleasance, |
| Which were his sisters and his paramours |
| And wondrously like him as to colours, |
| Whereof the fairest hued upon her throat |
| Was called the winsome Mistress Pertelote. |
| 105 | Courteous she was, discreet and debonnaire, |
| Companionable, and she had been so fair |
| Since that same day when she was seven nights old, |
| That truly she had taken the heart to hold |
| Of Chauntecleer, locked in her every limb; |
| 110 | He loved her so that all was well with him. |
| But such a joy it was to hear them sing, |
| Whenever the bright sun began to spring, |
| In sweet accord, "My love walks through the land." |
| For at that time, and as I understand, |
| 115 | The beasts and all the birds could speak and sing. |
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