Now, sir, and then, sir, so befell the case’

That on a day this clever Nicholas

Fell in with this young wife to toy and play,

The while her husband was down Osney way,

Clerks being as crafty as the best of us;

And unperceived he caught her by the puss,

Saying: "Indeed, unless I have my will,

For secret love of you, sweetheart, I’ll spill."

And held her hard about the hips, and how! —

And said: "O darling, love me, love me now,

Or I shall die, and pray you God may save!

And she leaped as a colt does in the trave

Now was ther of that chirche a parissh clerk,

The which that was y-cleped Absolon.

Crul was his heer, and as the gold is shoon,

And strouted as a fanne large and brode;

Ful streight and even lay his joly shode,

happened to flirt and play with this young wife

while her husband was at Osney

(these clerks are very subtle and sly),

and privily he grabbed her where he shouldn’t

and said, "Unless I have my will of you,

sweetheart, I’m sure to die from suppressed love".

And he held her hard by the hips

and said, "Sweetheart, love me right away

or I’ll die, so God help me!"

She jumped like a colt imprisoned in a shoeing frame

Now sir, and again sir, this is how it was:

A day came round when handy Nicholas,

Her husband gone to Osenay, well away,

Began to fool with this young wife, and play.

These students always have a willy head.

He caught her in between the legs, and said.

"Sweetheart, unless I have my will with you

I’ll die for stifled love, by all that’s true,"

And held her by the haunches, hard. "I vow

I’ll die unless you love me here and now,

Sure as my soul, "he said, "is God to save."

She shied just as a colt does in the trave,

Now, gentleman, this gallant Nicholas

One day began to romp and make a pass

At this young woman, in a mood of play,

Her husband being out down Osney way.

Students are sly, and giving way to whim,

He made a grab and caught her by the quim

And said, ‘Unless I have my will of you

Ill die of secret love — O, darling, do!’

Then held her haunches hard and gave a cry

‘O love-me-all-at-once or I shall die!’

She gave a spring, just like a skittish colt,

Boxed in a frame for shoeing, and with a jolt,