Time and Tide wait for no man - Geoffrey Chaucer

What more should I say, but that the Miller would not his words forebear for any man, and told his vulgar tale in his own way. I regret that I must repeat it here and, therefore, of every refined person I pray, for the love of God, think not that I speak with evil intent, but I must relate all the stories as they are told, be they better or worse, or else be untrue to myself and my design. And, therefore, he who wishes not to read it, turn over the leaf and choose another tale. For he shall find enough, great and small, of historical matters that touch upon gentility, and also morality and holiness. Blame me not if you should choose amiss.

"Chese now," quod she, "oon of thise thynges tweye:
To han me foul and old til that I deye,
And be to yow a trewe, humble wyf,
And nevere yow displese in al my lyf,
Or elles ye wol han me yong and fair,
And take youre aventure of the repair
That shal be to youre hous by cause of me,
Or in som oother place, may wel be.
Now chese yourselven, wheither that yow liketh."

One night the citizens of Rome revolted Against his tyrannies and mad ambition And, when he heard them mutiny, he bolted Alone and sought his friends for coalition. The more he knocked and begged them for admission The more they shut their doors and said him nay. And then he saw that of his own perdition He was sole author and he fled away. The people yelled for him and rumbled round So that their shouts were dinning in his ear: ‘Where’s Nero? Where’s the tyrant? Treacherous hound!