Geoffrey Chaucer (c. 1340–1400)

NOW wol I turn unto my tale agen.

The silly widow and her doughtren two,

Herden these hennés cry and maken wo,

And out of dorés sterten they anon,

And saw the fox toward the wode is gon,

And bare upon his back the cock away:

They criden out! “Harow and wala wa!

A ha! the fox!” and after him they ran,

And eke with stavés many another man;

Ran Colle our dog, and Talbot, and Gerlond;

And Malkin, with her distaf in her hond;

Ran cow and calf, and eke the very hogges

So feared were for barking of the dogges.

And shouting of the men and women eke,

They ronnen so, them thought hir hertes breke.

They yelleden as fendés don in Helle:

The dokès crieden as men wold hem quelle:

The gees for fere flewen over the trees,

Out of the hive came the swarme of bees,

So hideous was the noise, a benedicite!

Certes he Jakke Straw, and his meinie,

Ne maden never shoutés half so shrill,

When that they wolden any Fleming kill,

As thilké day was made upon the fox.

Of brass they broughten beemés and of box,

Of horn and bone, in which they blew and pouped,

And therwithal they shriekèd and they houped;

It seemed, as the Heven shuldé falle.