Of small coral about her arm she bare A pair of beades, gauded all with green; And thereon hung a brooch of gold full sheen, On which was first y-written a crown’d A, And after, *Amor vincit omnia.* *love conquers all* Another Nun also with her had she, [That was her chapelleine, and PRIESTES three.] A MONK there was, a fair *for the mast’ry*, *above all others*<14> An out-rider, that loved venery*; *hunting A manly man, to be an abbot able. Full many a dainty horse had he in stable: And when he rode, men might his bridle hear Jingeling <15> in a whistling wind as clear, And eke as loud, as doth the chapel bell, There as this lord was keeper of the cell. The rule of Saint Maur and of Saint Benet, <16> Because that it was old and somedeal strait This ilke* monk let olde thinges pace, *same And held after the newe world the trace. He *gave not of the text a pulled hen,* *he cared nothing That saith, that hunters be not holy men: for the text* Ne that a monk, when he is cloisterless; Is like to a fish that is waterless; This is to say, a monk out of his cloister. This ilke text held he not worth an oyster; And I say his opinion was good. Why should he study, and make himselfe wood* *mad <17> Upon a book in cloister always pore, Or swinken* with his handes, and labour, *toil As Austin bid? how shall the world be served? Let Austin have his swink to him reserved. Therefore he was a prickasour* aright: *hard rider Greyhounds he had as swift as fowl of flight; Of pricking* and of hunting for the hare *riding Was all his lust,* for no cost would he spare. *pleasure I saw his sleeves *purfil’d at the hand *worked at the end with a With gris,* and that the finest of the land. fur called “gris”* And for to fasten his hood under his chin, He had of gold y-wrought a curious pin; A love-knot in the greater end there was. His head was bald, and shone as any glass, And eke his face, as it had been anoint; He was a lord full fat and in good point; His eyen steep,* and rolling in his head, *deep-set That steamed as a furnace of a lead. His bootes supple, his horse in great estate, Now certainly he was a fair prelate; He was not pale as a forpined* ghost; *wasted A fat swan lov’d he best of any roast. His palfrey was as brown as is a berry.