And peiněd hire to contrefeten chere
Of court, and ben estatelich of manère,
And to ben holden digne of reverence.

But for to speken of hire conscience,
She was so charitable and so pitòus
She woldě wepe if that she saw a mous
Caughte in a trappe, if it were ded, or bledde.
Of smalě houndĕs hadde she, that she fedde
With rosted flesh, and milk, and wastel brede,
But sore wept she, if on of hem were dede,
Or if men smote it with a yerdě smert ;
And all was conscience and tendre herte.
Ful seměly hire wimple ypinched was,
Hire nose tretis, hire eyen grey as glas;
Hire mouth full smale and thereto soft and red;
But sikerly she had a fayre forehed :

It was almost a spanně brode, I trowe,
For hardily she was not undergrowe.
Ful fetise was hire cloke, as I was ware.
Of smale coràll about hire arm she bare
A pair of bedĕs gauded all with grene,

and it cost her a great deal of trouble to give herself the airs of her condition, and obtain people's reverence.

As to her conscience, she was so full of tenderness and charity, that she would weep if she saw a mouse hurt in a trap. She kept delicate little hounds, which she fed with milk, roast meat, and fancybread; and sorely did she lament when any one of them died, or if anybody struck it. She was all conscience and tender heart.

Her neckerchief was plaited in the nicest manner. She had a delicate straight nose, eyes of a clear grey, a small, soft, red mouth, and a handsome forehead. I think it must have been a span broad. In truth she was no way stinted in her growth.

The cloak she wore was extremely well cut. She had a chaplet of coral beads about her arm, ornamented with green; and to the chaplet

And thereon heng a broche of gold ful shene
On whiche was first ywritten a crouned A,
And after Amor vincit omnia.8

Another NONNE also with hire hadde she
That was hire chapelleine, and PREESTES thre.9
A MONK ther was, a fayre for the maistrie,
An out-rider that loved venerie; (hunting)
A manly man to ben an abbot able;

Ful many a deintě hors hadde he in stable,
And whan he rode, men mighte his bridel here
Gingeling in a whistling wind, as clere,
And eke as loude as doth the chapell belle

Ther as this lord was keper of the celle.

The reule of Seint Maure and of Seint Beneit,
Because that it was olde and somdele streit,
This ilke monk lette oldě thingĕs pace,

And helde after the newě world the trace.

He yave not of the text a pulled hen

That saith that hunters ben not holy men,

Ne that a monk whan he is rekkěles

Is like to a fish that is waterles;

was appended a fine gold trinket made into a crowned letter A, with the device, Amor vincit omnia.

She had a NUN with her, who was her chaplain; and three PRIESTS. A MONK may come next, a masterly specimen of his order; a lover of hunting, always foremost of the horsemen; a manly man, fit to be an abbot. Many a dainty horse had he in his stable; and when he was on the road, men might hear his bridle jingling in the wind as loud and clear as the chapel bell.

He had no great regard, this Monk, for the rules of Saint Maur and Saint Benedict. He thought them old and too particular; and he was for letting old things go their ways, and taking after the new. The notion that sportsmen are no saints, he valued no more than a plucked hen; and he set as little store by the saying, that a monk out

This is to say, a monk out of his cloistre ;

This ilkě text held he not worth an oistre ;
And I say his opinion was good.

What shulde he studie and make himselven wood,
Upon a book in cloistre alway to pore,

Or swinken with his hondes, and laboure,

As Austin bit? how shall the world be served ?
Let Austin have his swink to him reserved:
Therfore he was a prickasoure a right.
Greihoundes he hadde as swift as foul of flight.
Of pricking and of hunting for the hare
Was all his lust; for no cost wolde he spare.
I saw his sleves purfiled at the hond
With gris, and that the finest of the lond;
And for to fasten his hood under his chinne
He hadde of gold ywrought a curious pinne;
A love-knotte in the greter ende ther was:
His hed was balled, and shone as any glas;
And eke his face, as it hadde ben anoint;
He was a lord ful fat, and in good point :

of his cell is like a fish out of water. He swallowed it as easily as he would an oyster. And in my opinion he was right. Why should a man study, and turn his brains, and be always poring over a book, mewed up in a cloister, and labour and toil with his hands, because Austin bade him? How is the world to be served at that rate? Let Austin be accommodated with as much labour as he pleases. Our monk preferred good riding. He had a pack of greyhounds as swift as birds, and cared for nothing but horses and the chase. It was no matter what they cost him.

I beheld with my own eyes his sleeves bordered with fur, and that too the finest in the land. To fasten his hood under the chin he had a gold pin, curiously wrought into a love-knot. His head was bald, and shone as if it had been glazed. So did his face, as if it had been anointed. He was a glorious jolly personage. There was not a point

His eyen stepe, and rolling in his hed,
That stemed as a forneìs of a led;

His bootes souple, his hors in gret estat;
Now certainly he was a fayre prelàt :
He was not pale as a forpiněd gost;
A fat swan loved he best of any rost:

His palfrey was as broune as is a bery.

A FRERE ther was, a wanton and a mery,

A limitour, a ful solempně man :10

In all the ordres foure is non that can
So moche of dalïance and fayre langage:
He hadde ymade ful many a marïage
Of yonge wimmen at his owěn cost:
Until his ordre he was a noble post.

Ful wel beloved and familier was he
With frankeleins over all in his contrée,
And eke with worthy wimmen of the toun,
For he had power of confession,

As saide himselfě, more than a curàt;

about him but was perfect. His eyes were sunk in fat, and his head smoked like a furnace. His boots were supple, his horse in the highest condition: in short, he was the model of a dignified clergyman. He was no ghost of a man, pale and wasted away. The dish he loved best was a fat swan. His palfrey was as brown as a berry.

A FRIAR was there too, a very facetious fellow; wonderfully solemn withal. He was one of the friars that are licensed to beg. In all the Four Orders he had not his match for an affectionate approach and wheedling speeches. He had read the marriage-service to heaps of young women for nothing. He was an amazing support to his order; quite a pillar. There was not a rich farmer in his county with whom he was not a favourite. And as much might be said of the good women in the towns: for (as he used to observe) he had license to hear confession wherever he pleased, and was not confined to one spot

For of his ordre he was a licentiat.
Ful swetěly heard he confession,
And plesant was his absolution.

He was an esy man to give penànce
Ther as he wiste to han a good pitànce,
For unto a poure ordre for to give
Is signě that a man is wel yshrive ;
For if he gave he dorstě make avant
He wistě that a man was rèpentant;
For many a man so hard is of his herte,
He may not wepe although him sorě smerte;
Therfore in stede of weping and praières
Men mote give silver to the pourě freres.
His tippet was ay farsed ful of knives
And pinnes for to given fayre wives:
And certainly he hadde a mery note;
Wel coude he singe and plaien on a rote.
Of yeddinges he bare utterly the pris;
His nekke was white as the flour-de-lis ;

like a poor curate. Sweet was his mode of hearing confession, and pleasant was his absolution. He was an easy man at ordering penance, where he expected a just return; for he was of opinion, that to give handsomely to the poor friars was a sign that a man had confessed to some purpose. He would grow quite exalted on this point, and swear that such a man must be a true penitent: for (argued he) weeping proves nothing; a man may be very sorry, yet not able to weep; therefore the way to make his repentance manifest is neither to weep nor pray, but to come down with his money to the poor friars.

His tippet was always stuffed full of knives and pins, to give to pretty women. It is astonishing what a pleasant tongue he had. He could sing, and play on the rote. There was nobody to be compared with him for a good story.

His neck was as white as a lily; but that did not hinder his being a