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A monk ther was, a fair for the maistrie,
An outridere, that lovede venerie,
A manly man, to been an abbot able.
Ful many a deyntee hors hadde_he in stable,
And whan he rood, men myghte his brydel heere
Gynglen in a whistlynge wynd als cleere
And eek as loude as dooth the chapel belle.
Ther as this lord was kepere_of the celle,
The reule_of seint maure_or of seint beneit,
By cause that it was old and somdel streit
This ilke monk leet olde thynges pace,
And heeld after the newe world the space.
He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen,
That seith that hunters ben nat hooly men,
Ne that a monk, whan he is recchelees,
Is likned til a fissh that is waterlees, --
This is to seyn, a monk out of his cloystre.
But thilke text heeld he nat worth an oystre;
And I seyde his opinion was good.
What sholde_he studie and make_hymselven wood,
Upon a book in cloystre_alwey to poure,
Or swynken with his handes, and laboure,
As austyn bit? how shal the world be served?
Lat austyn have his swynk to hym reserved!
Therfore he was a prikasour aright:
Grehoundes he hadde_as swift as fowel in flight;
Of prikyng and of huntyng for the hare
Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.
I seigh his sleves purfiled at the hond
With grys, and that the fyneste_of a lond;
And, for to festne_his hood under his chyn,
He hadde_of gold ywroght a ful curious pyn;
A love-knotte_in the gretter ende ther was.
His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas,
And eek his face,_as he hadde been enoynt.
He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt;
His eyen stepe,_and rollynge in his heed,
That stemed as a forneys of a leed;
His bootes souple,_his hors in greet estaat.
Now certeinly he was a fair prelaat;
He was nat pale_as a forpyned goost.
A fat swan loved he best of any roost.
His palfrey was as broun as is a berye.