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A vox gon out of že wode go,
Afingret so žat him wes wo -
He nes neuere in none wise
Afingret erour half so swiže.
He ne hoeld noužer wey ne strete,
For him wes lož men to mete;
Him were leuere meten one hen
žen half an oundred wimmen!
He strok swiže oueral
So žat he ofsei ane wal.
Wižinne že walle wes an hous:
The wox wes žider swiže wous,
[...]
At že furmeste bruche žat he fond
He lep in, and ouer he wond.
žo he wes inne, smere he lou
And žerof he hadde gome inou
(For he com in wižouten leue
Božen of haiward and of reue!)
On hous žer wes: že dore wes ope,
Hennen weren žerinne icrope
Fiue (žat makež anne flok),
And miš hem sat on kok.
že kok him wes flowen on hey,
And two hennen him seten ney.
'Wox!' quad že kok, 'wat dest žou žare?
Go hom! Crist že eue kare:
Houre hennen žou dest ofte shome.'
'Be stille, Ich hote, a Godes nome!'
Quaž že wox, 'Sire Chauntecleer,
žou fle adoun and com me ner.
I nabbe don her nout bote goed -
I have leten žinne hennen blod.
He weren seke ounder že ribe,
žat hy my3tte non lengour libe
Bote here heddre were itake.
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