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O thyng, er that ye goon, if it may be, |
270 | I wolde prey yow; for to lene me |
| An hundred frankes, for a wyke or tweye, |
| For certein beestes that I moste beye, |
| To stoore with a place that is oures. |
| God helpe me so, I wolde it were youres! |
275 | I shal nat faille surely of my day, |
| Nat for a thousand frankes, a mile way. |
| But lat this thyng be secree, I yow preye, |
| For yet to-nyght thise beestes moot I beye. |
| And fare now wel, myn owene cosyn deere; |
280 | Graunt mercy of youre cost and of youre cheere." |
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One thing, before you go, if it may be, |
270 | I pray you do, and that is, to lend me |
| A hundred francs, for but a week or two, |
| For certain cattle I must buy, to do |
| The stocking of a little place of ours. |
| So help me God, I would that it were yours! |
275 | I will not fail you, come next settling day, |
| Not for a thousand francs, a mile away. |
| But let this thing be secret, pray, for I, |
| Even tonight, must go these beasts to buy; |
| And farewell now, my own good cousin dear. |
280 | And many thanks for entertainment here." |
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