Min Be The Travaille, And

Lat Take A Cat, And Fostre Him Wel With Milk, And Tendre Flesh, And Make His Couche Of Silk, And Let Him Seen A Mous Go By The Wal; Anon He Weyveth Milk, And Flesh, And Al, And Every Deyntee That Is In That Hous, Swich Appetyt Hath He To Ete A Mous.

Patience Is A Conquering Virtue.

One Flesh They Are; And One Flesh, So I'd Guess, Has But One Heart, Come Grief Or Happiness.

And When A Beest Is Deed, He Hath No Peyne; But Man After His Deeth Moot Wepe And Pleyne.

To Maken Vertue Of Necessite.