In page 323, we see the beginning of what was to become a well-known English oath:
‘Ye,’ he seyde, ‘graunte mercy.’
In page 95, we see a sense that has been long given in England to the French word touch, ‘to speak of:’
Y touchede of þys yche lake.
In page 109, we see how liquid consonants run into each other:
What sey ʓe, men, of ladyys pryde,
Þat gone traylyng over syde?
This in the French is trainant. Thus Bononia became Bologna, and Lucera was sometimes written Nucera.
In page 229, single is opposed to unmarried; simples hom is translated by sengle knave.
In page 4, we see how in the Danelagh French words as well as English underwent clipping. The French enticer loses its first syllable; and our lower orders still use this maimed verb:
Þe fende and oure fleshe tysyn us þerto.
We saw how seventy years earlier espier became spy in Suffolk.
In page 9, a French impersonal Verb appears, ‘to repent him.’
In page 72, we see the unhappy French word, which has driven out the true English afeard, at least from polite speech. Fu tant affraie is there turned into he was a frayde. In this poem we also see the French