So sweetly did he hear confession ay; In absolution pleasant was his way. In giving penance, very kind was he When people made it worth his while to be; For giving largely to some order poor Shows that a man is free from sin, be sure, And if a man begrudged him not his dole, He knew he was repentant in his soul. For many a man so hard of heart we see, He cannot weep, however sad he be; Therefore, instead of weeping and long prayers, Men can give money unto the poor friars. He carried a number of pretty pins and knives about him that he made presents of to people; and he could sing well, and play on the rotta.[62] He never mingled with poor, ragged, sick people--it is not respectable to have anything to do with such, but only with rich people who could give good dinners. Somwhat he lipsede for his wantownesse, To make his Englissch swete upon his tunge; tongue Somewhat he lispéd for his wantonness, To make his English sweet upon his tongue; and when he played and sang, his eyes twinkled like the stars on a frosty night. The Merchant. [Illustration] A MARCHAUNT was ther with a forked berd, beard In motteleye, and highe on hors he sat, motley, horse Uppon his heed a Flaundrisch bevere hat. Flemish beaver A merchant was there with a forkéd beard, In motley dress’d--high on his horse he sat, And on his head a Flemish beaver hat. The Clerk. [Illustration] A CLERK[63] ther was of Oxenford also, Oxford That unto logik hadde longe ygo. logic, gone As lene was his hors as is a rake, lean, horse And he was not right fat, I undertake; But lokede holwe, and therto soburly. looked hollow Ful thredbare was his overest courtepy. uppermost short cloak For he hadde geten him yit no benefice, got Ne was so worldly for to have office, For him was lever have at his beddes heede he would Twenty bookes, clothed in blak or reede, Of Aristotil, and his philosophie, Than robus riche, or fithul, or sawtrie. robes A clerk of Oxford was amid the throng, Who had applied his heart to learning long. His horse, it was as skinny as a rake, And _he_ was not too fat, I’ll undertake! But had a sober, rather hollow look; And very threadbare was his outer cloak. For he as yet no benefice had got: Worldly enough for office he was not! For liefer would he have at his bed’s head A score of books, all bound in black or red, Of Aristotle, and his philosophy, Than rich attire, fiddle, or psaltery.