|
A FRIAR there was, a wanton and a merry, |
| A limiter, a very festive man. |
210 | In all the Four Orders is no one that can |
| Equal his gossip and well-spoken speech. |
| He had arranged many a marriage, giving each |
| Of young women, and this at his own cost. |
| For his order he was a noble post. |
215 | Highly liked by all and intimate was he |
| With franklins everywhere in his country, |
| And with the worthy women living in the city: |
| For his power of confession met no equality |
| That's what he said, in the confession to a curate, |
220 | For his order he was a licentiate. |
| He heard confession gently, it was said, |
| Gently absolved too, leaving no dread. |
| He was an easy man in penance-giving |
| He knew how to gain a fair living; |
225 | For to a begging friar, money given |
| Is sign that any man has been well shriven. |
| For if one gave, he dared to boast bluntly, |
| He took the man's repentance not lightly. |
| For many a man there is so hard of heart |
230 | He cannot weep however pains may smart. |
| Therefore, instead of weeping and of prayers, |
| Men should give silver to the poor friars. |
| His tippet was always stuffed with pocket-knives |
| And pins, to give to young and pleasing wives. |
235 | And certainly he possesed a merry note: |
| Well could he sing and play upon the rote. |
| At ballad contests, he bore the prize away. |
| His throat was white as the lily flower I say; |
| Yet strong he was as every champion. |
240 | In towns he knew the taverns, every one, |
| And every good host and each barmaid too - |
| Better than needy lepers and beggars, these he knew. |
| For unto no such a worthy man as he |
| It's unsuitable, as far as he could see, |
245 | To have sick lepers for acquaintances. |
| There is no honest advantageousness |
| In dealing with such poor beggars; |
| It's with the rich victual-buyers and sellers. |
| And generally, wherever profit might arise, |
250 | Courteous he was and servicable in men's eyes. |
| There was no other man so virtuous. |
| He was the finest beggar of his house; |
| (And gave a certain fee for his begging rights, |
| None of his brethren dared approach his hights;) |
255 | For though a widow had no shoes to show, |
| So pleasant was his "In principio", |
| He always got a farthing before he went. |
| His revenue exceeded his costs, it is evident. |
| And he could flirt as well as any pup. |
260 | He could help resolve disputes that were brought up. |
| In this he was not like a cloisterer, |
| With threadbare cope like the poor scholar, |
| But he was like a lord or like a pope. |
| Of double cloth was his semi-cope, |
265 | That rounded like a bell, as if straight from the press. |
| He lisped a little, out of wantonness, |
| To make his English soft upon his tongue; |
| And in his harping, when he had sung, |
| His two eyes twinkled in his head as bright |
270 | As do the stars within the frosty night. |
| This worthy friar was named Hubert. |