Were of the same suyte of hir coler;
Hir filet brood of silk, and set ful hye.
And
she hadde a likerous ye; Ful smale ypulled were hire browes two,
And tho were bent and blake as any sloo.
She was ful moore blisful on to see
Than is the newe pere-jonette tree,
And softer than the wolle is of a
.
And by hir girdel heeng a purs of lether,
Tasseled with silk and perled with
.In al this world, to seken up and doun,
There nys no man so wys that koude thenche
So gay a
or swich a wenche.Ful brighter was the shynyng of hir hewe
Than in the Tour the noble yforged newe.
But of hir song, it was as loude and yerne
As any swalwe sittynge on a berne.
Therto she koude skippe and make game,
As any kyde or calk folwynge his dame.
Hir mouth was sweete as bragot or the meeth,
Or hoord of apples leyd in hey or heeth.
Wynsynge she was, as is a joly colt,
Long as a mast, and upright as a bolt.
A brooch she baar upon hir lowe coler,
As brood as is
.Hir shoes were laced on hir legges hye.
She was a prymerole, a piggesnye,
For any lord to leggen in his bedde,
Or yet for any good
to
wedde.Now, sire, and eft, sire, so bifel the cas
That on a day this hende Nicholas
Fil with this yonge wyf to
and
pleye,Whil that hir housbonde was at Oseneye,
As clerkes ben ful subtile and ful
;And prively he caughte hir by the
,And seyde, “Ywis, but if ich have my wille,
For
love of thee, 
,
I 
,”And heeld hire harde by the haunchebones,
And seyde, “Lemman, love me al atones,
Or I wol dyen, also God my save!”
And she sproong as a colt dooth in the trave,
And with her heed she wryed faste awey,
And seyde, “I wol nat kisse thee, by my fey!
Why, lat be!” quod she. “Lat be, Nicholas,
Or I wol crie ‘out, harrow, and ‘allas’!
Do wey youre handes, for your curteisye!”
This Nicholas gan mercy for to crye,
And spak so faire, and profred him so faste,
That she hire love hym graunted atte laste,
And swoor hir ooth, by
,That she wol been at his comandement,
Whan that she may hir leyser wel espie.
“Myn housbonde is so ful of jalousie
That but ye wayte wel and been privee,
I woot right wel I nam but deed,” quod she.
“Ye moste been ful deerne, as in this cas.”
“Nay, therof care thee noght,” quod Nicholas.
A clerk hadde litherly biset his whyle,
But if he koude a carpenter bigyle.”
And thus they been accorded and ysworn
To wayte a tyme, as I have told biforn.
Whan Nicholas had doon thus everideel
And thakked hire aboute the lendes weel,
He kiste hire sweete and taketh his sawtrie,
And
faste,
and maketh melodie.Thanne fil it thus, that to the
,Cristes owene werkes for to wirche,
This goode wyf went on an
.Hir forheed shoon as bright as any day,
So was it wasshen whan she leet hir werk.
Now was ther of that chirche a parissh clerk,
The which that was ycleped Absolon.