In order: Hrothgar, Heorot, Hygelac, Beowulf, Grendel, Geats, Spear-Danes, Sir Gawain,

Mordred, Agravaine, Palamon, Arcite, Carpenter John and his wife Alison, Nicholas,
Absalom, January, May, Clerks Alan and John, Griselda, Dorigen, Aurelius,
Chaunticleer, Pertolote, Everyman, Good Deeds, Five Wits, Strength, Beauty, the
Wanderer, Troilus and Criseyde

Find and explain: alliteration, caesura, bob-and-wheel, passus, kenning, rhyme rhoyal,
synecdoche, metonymy, itotes (ironic understatemet), rhyme royal

Thou hast ypayed wel for my vitaille,

It is ynogh, and farewel, have good day."
And took his hors, and forth he goth his way.
Lordynges, this questioun wolde I aske now,
Which was the mooste fre, as thynketh yow?
Now telleth me, er that ye ferther wende,
I kan namoore, my tale is at an ende.

wyrmas ond wildeor;         hie on weg hruron,

bitere ond gebolgne,         bearhtm ongeaton,
guðhorn galan.         Sumne Geata leod
of flanbogan         feores getwæfde,
yðgewinnes,         þæt him on aldre stod

But Holy Chirche and hii holde bettre togidres

The mooste meschief on molde is mountynge up faste.
Ther preched a pardoner as he a preest were:
Broughte forth a bulle with bisshopes seles,
And seide that hymself myghte assoillen hem alle
Of falshede of fastynge, of avowes ybroken. -
Lewed men leved hym wel and liked hise wordes,
Comen up knelynge to kissen his bulle.
He bonched hem with his brevet and blered hire eighen,
And raughte with his rageman rynges and broches.

Then the king removed into Wales, and let cry a great feast that it should be holden at
Pentecost after the incoronation of him at the city of Carlion. Unto the feast came King
Lot of Lothian and of Orkney, with five hundred knights with him. Also there came to the
feast King Uriens of Gore with four hundred knights with him. Also there came to that
feast King Nentres of Garlot, with seven hundred knights with him. Also there came to
the feast the king of Scotland with six hundred knights with him, and he was but a young
man. Also there came to the feast a king that was called the King with the Hundred
Knights, but he and his men were passing well beseen at all points. Also there came the
king of Carados with five hundred knights. And King Arthur was glad of their coming,
for he weened that all the kings and knights had come for great love, and to have done
him worship at his feast; wherefore the king made great joy, and sent the kings and
knights great presents.

In th'olde dayes of the Kyng Arthour,

Of which that Britons speken greet honour,
All was this land fulfild of fayerye.
The elf-queene, with hir joly compaignye,
Daunced ful ofte in many a grene mede.
This was the olde opinion, as I rede;
I speke of manye hundred yeres ago.
But now kan no man se none elves mo,
For now the grete charitee and prayeres
Of lymytours and othere hooly freres,
That serchen every lond and every streem,
As thikke as motes in the sonne-beem,
Blessynge halles, chambres, kichenes, boures,
Citees, burghes, castels, hye toures,
Thropes, bernes, shipnes, dayeryes,
This maketh that ther been no fayeryes.

“Therefore I cannot think why the thoughts of my heart should not grow dark when I
consider all the life of men through this world—with what terrible swiftness they forgo
the hall-floor, bold young retainers. So this middle-earth each day fails and falls. No man
may indeed become wise before he has his share of winters in this world’s kingdom.”

"Gentil sire, allas, wher wol ye gon?

Be ye affrayed of me that am youre freend?
Now, certes, I were worse than a feend
If I to yow wolde harm or vileynye.
I am nat come your conseil for t'espye,
But trewely, the cause of my comynge
Was oonly for to herkne how that ye synge.
For trewely, ye have as myrie a stevene
As any aungel hath that is in hevene.
Therwith ye han in musyk moore feelynge
Than hadde Boece, or any that kan synge.
My lord youre fader - God his soule blesse! -
And eek youre mooder, of hir gentillesse
Han in myn hous ybeen, to my greet ese;
And certes, sire, ful fayn wolde I yow plese.
 And so bifel upon a day,
For sothe as I yow telle may,
Sir Thopas wolde out ride;
He worth upon his steede gray,
And in his hand a launcegay,
A long swerd by his side.

until one began

to dominate the dark, a dragon on the prowl
from the steep vaults of a stone-roofed barrow
where he guarded a hoard: there was a hidden passage,
unknown to men, but someone managed
to enter by it and interfere
with the heathen trove. He had handled and removed
a gem-studded goblet;

þis kyng lay at camylot vpon kryst masse

with mony luflych lorde ledez of þe best
rekenly of þe rounde table alle þo rich breþer
with rych reuel ory3t and rechles merþes
þer tournayed tulkes by tymez ful mony
justed ful jolile þise gentyle kni3tes
syþen kayred to þe court caroles to make
for þer þe fest watz ilyche ful fiften dayes
with alle þe mete and þe mirþe þat men couþe avyse

Lo, with a greet thyng is affeccioun!

Men may dyen of ymaginacioun,
So depe may impressioun be take.
This sely carpenter bigynneth quake;
Hym thynketh verraily that he may see
Noees flood come walwynge as the see
To drenchen Alisoun, his hony deere.

for of bak and of brest al were his bodi sturne

bot his wombe and his wast were worthily smale
and alle his fetures fol3ande in forme þat he hade
ful clene
for wonder of his hwe men hade
set in his semblaunt sene
he ferde as freke were fade
and oueral enker grene

Whilom, as olde stories tellen us,

Ther was a duc that highte Theseus;
Of Atthenes he was lord and governour,
And in his tyme swich a conquerour,
That gretter was ther noon under the sonne.
Ful many a riche contree hadde he wonne,
What with his wysdom and his chivalrie;
He conquered al the regne of Femenye,
That whilom was ycleped Scithia,
And weddede the queene Ypolita,
And broghte hir hoom with hym in his contree,
With muchel glorie and greet solempnytee,
And eek hir yonge suster Emelye.

And loveth him, the which that right for love

Upon a cros, our soules for to beye,
First starf, and roos, and sit in hevene above;
For he nil falsen no wight, dar I seye,
That wol his herte al hoolly on him leye.
And syn he best to love is, and most meke,
What nedeth feyned loves for to seke?

In a somer seson, whan softe was the sonne,

I shoop me into shroudes as I a sheep were,
In habite as an heremite unholy of werkes,
Wente wide in this world wondres to here.
Ac on a May morwenynge on Malverne hilles
Me bifel a ferly, of Fairye me thoghte.
I was wery forwandred and wente me to reste
Under a brood bank by a bourne syde;
And as I lay and lenede and loked on the watres,
I slombred into a slepyng, it sweyed so murye.
Thanne gan I meten a merveillous swevene --
That I was in a wildernesse, wiste I nevere where.
A[c] as I biheeld into the eest an heigh to the sonne,
I seigh a tour on a toft trieliche ymaked,
A deep dale bynethe, a dongeon therinne,
With depe diches and derke and dredfulle of sighte.

Looke of Egipte the kyng, daun Pharao,

His baker and his butiller also,
Wher they ne felte noon effect in dremes!
Whoso wol seken actes of sondry remes
May rede of dremes many a wonder thyng.
Lo Cresus, which that was of Lyde kyng,
Mette he nat that he sat upon a tree,
Which signified, he sholde anhanged bee?

Therewith shall your body chastised be,

With abstinence and perseverance in God’s service:
Here shall you receive that scourge of me,
Which is penance strong, that ye must endure,
To remember thy Saviour was scourged for thee
With sharp scourges, and suffered it patiently;
So must thou, or thou scape that that painful pilgrimage;
Knowledge, keep him in this voyage,
And by that time Good-Deeds will be with thee.
But in any wise, be sure of mercy,
For your time draweth fast, and ye will saved be;
Ask God mercy, and He will grant truly,
When with the scourge of penance man doth him bind,
The oil of forgiveness then shall he find.

"Aurelie," quod she, "by heighe God above,

Yet wolde I graunte yow to been youre love,
Syn I yow se so pitously complayne.
Looke, what day that endelong Britayne
Ye remoeve alle the rokkes, stoon by stoon,
That they ne lette shipe ne boot to goon, -
I seye, whan ye han maad the coost so clene
Of rokkes that ther nys no stoon ysene,
Thanne wol I love yow best of any man,
Have heer my trouthe in al that evere I kan."

“Thus I, wretched with care, removed from my homeland, far from dear kinsmen, have
had to fasten with fetters the thoughts of my heart—ever since the time, many years ago,
that I covered my gold-friend in the darkness of the earth; and from there I crossed the
woven waves, winter-sad, downcast for want of a hall, sought a giver of treasure—a
place, far or near, where I might find one in a mead-hall who should know of my people,
or would comfort me friendless, receive me with gladness.”

The man lay unmoving for more than a while,

for his mind was bemused what to make of this
strange situation. It seemed most amazing.
But he said to himself, "It would suit far better
if I let the lady enlighten me herself."
Then he straightened and stretched and stirring toward her
he opened his eyes and acted astounded.
Then he crossed himself as if he claimed protection
from that sight --
                her chin and cheeks were sweet,
                blending red and white;
                her voice a pleasant treat
                where small lips smiled delight.

`For Heaven might not hold it · so heavy of itself,

Till it had of the earth · eaten its fill.
`And when it had of this fold · flesh and blood taken,
Never was leaf upon linden · lighter thereafter,
And pricking and piercing · as the point of a needle,
That no armour might stay it · nor any high walls.
`Therefore is Love leader · of the Lord's folk of Heaven,
And a mean, as the mayor is · between king and commons;

Hath Palamon ywedded Emelye;

And God, that al this wyde world hath wroght,
Sende hym his love that hath it deere aboght,
For now is Palamon in alle wele,
Lyvynge in blisse, in richesse, and in heele,
And Emelye hym loveth so tendrely,
And he hir serveth al so gentilly,
That nevere was ther no word hem bitwene,
Of jalousie, or any oother teene.

Hildeburh
had little cause
to credit the Jutes:
son and brother,
she lost them both
on the battlefield.
She, bereft
and blameless, they
foredoomed, cut down
and spear-gored. She,
the woman in shock,
waylaid by grief,
Hoc’s daughter—

Upon a nyght Jankyn, that was oure sire,

Redde on his book as he sat by the fire
Of Eva first, that for hir wikkednesse
Was al mankynde broght to wrecchednesse,
For which that Jhesu Crist hymself was slayn,
That boghte us with his herte blood agayn.
Lo, heere expres of womman may ye fynde,
That womman was the los of al mankynde.
Tho redde he me how Sampson loste hise heres,
Slepynge, his lemman kitte it with hir sheres,
Thurgh whiche tresoun loste he bothe hise yen.

Sometimes He allows the mind of a man

of distinguished birth to follow its bent,
grants him fulfillment and felicity on earth
and forts to command in his own country.
He permits him to lord it in many lands
until the man in his unthinkingness
forgets that it will ever end for him.
He indulges his desires; illness and old age
mean nothing to him; his mind is untroubled
by envy or malice or the thought of enemies
with their hate-honed swords.

"Thanne have I gete of yow maistrie," quod she,

"Syn I may chese and governe as me lest?"
"Ye, certes, wyf," quod he, "I holde it best."
"Kys me," quod she, "we be no lenger wrothe,
For, by my trouthe, I wol be to yow bothe!
This is to seyn, ye, bothe fair and good.
I prey to God that I moote sterven wood
But I to yow be al so good and trewe
As evere was wyf, syn that the world was newe.

How they brayed -- how they bled -- and on the banks died
as the pack came pelting pell-mell behind them
while hunters with upraised horns came hurrying after,
blowing blasts so loud they could have burst the cliffs.
If any escaped unscathed from the archers
they were stopped and slaughtered at the stations below.
As they came harried from the heights and were hunted to the streams,
the men who manned those stations were such master hunters
and their greyhounds so gigantic, they grabbed them at once
and dispatched them as promptly as people could look
their way.

For after death amends may no man make,

For then mercy and pity do him forsake.
If his reckoning be not clear when he do come,
God will say- ite maledicti in ignem aeternum.
And he that hath his account whole and sound,
High in heaven he shall be crowned;
Unto which place God bring us all thither
That we may live body and soul together.
Thereto help the Trinity,
Amen, say ye, for saint Charity.

“Anyone ready to admit the truth

will surely realize that the lord of men
who showered you with gifts and gave you the armor
you are standing in—when he would distribute
helmets and mail-shirts to men on the mead-benches,
a prince treating his thanes in hall
to the best he could find, far or near—
was throwing weapons uselessly away.”

Hwæt! We Gardena         in geardagum,

þeodcyninga,         þrym gefrunon,
hu ða æþelingas         ellen fremedon.
Oft Scyld Scefing         sceaþena þreatum,

`That is the castle of Care · whoso cometh therein

May curse he was born · in body or in soul.
Therein abideth a wight · that is called Wrong,
Father of Falsehood · who built it himself.
Adam and Eve · he egged on to ill;
Counselled Cain · to kill his brother;
Judas he jockeyed · with Jewish silver,
And then on elder · hanged him after.

And with the staf she drow ay neer and neer,

And wende han hit this Aleyn at the fulle,
And smoot the millere on the pyled skulle,
That doun he gooth, and cride, "Harrow! I dye!"
Thise clerkes beete hym weel and lete hym lye;
And greythen hem, and tooke hir hors anon,
And eek hire mele, and on hir wey they gon.
And at the mille yet they tooke hir cake
Of half a busshel flour, ful wel ybake.

Wind and water

rages with storms,
wave and shingle
were shackled in ice
until another year
appeared in the yard
as it does to this day,
the seasons constant,
the wonder of light
coming over us.

Swiche olde lewed wordes used he.

On Damyan a signe made she,
That he sholde go biforn with his cliket.
This Damyan thanne hath opened the wyket,
And in he stirte, and that in swich manere
That no wight myghte it se neither yheere,
And stille he sit under a bussh anon.
This Januarie, as blynd as is a stoon,
With Mayus in his hand, and no wight mo,
Into his fresshe gardyn is ago,
And clapte to the wyket sodeynly.

We must hurry now

tot take a last look at the king
and launch him, lord and ravisher of rings,
on the funeral road. His royal pyre
will melt no small amount of gold:
heaped there in a hoard, it was bought at a heavy cost.

"Right as ther dyed nevere man," quod he,

"That he ne lyvede in erthe in som degree,
Right so ther lyvede never man," he seyde,
"In al this world that somtyme he ne deyde.
This world nys but a thurghfare ful of wo,
And we been pilgrymes passynge to and fro.
Deeth is an ende of every worldes soore."
And over al this yet seyde he muchel moore,
To this effect ful wisely to enhorte
The peple, that they sholde hem reconforte.

`Some shall sew sacks,' quoth Piers · 'for sheltering the wheat;
And ye, lovely ladies · with your long fingers,
Have silk and sendal · to sew, while there's time,
Chasubles for chaplains · churches to honour.
Wives and widows · wool and flax spin;
Make cloth, I counsel you · and so teach your daughters.
The needy and naked · take heed how they lie
And contrive for them clothes · for so commands Truth.
I shall get them livelihood · unless the land fails,
Flesh and bread both · to rich and to poor,
As long as I live · for the Lord's love of Heaven.
And all manner of men · that by meat and drink live,
Help ye them to work well · that win you your food.'

A Geat woman too sang out in grief;

with hair bound up, she unburdened herself
of her worst fears, a wild litany
of nightmare and lament: her nation invaded,
enemies on the rampage, bodies in piles,
slavery and abasement. Heaven swallowed the smoke.