"Among monkes I myghte be, Ac many tyme I shonye it; 2810 For there ben manye felle frekes My feeris to aspie, Bothe priour and suppriour And oure _pater abbas_; And if I telle any tales, Thei taken hem togideres, And doon me faste frydayes To breed and to watre, And am chalanged in the chapitre hous As I a child were, 2820 And baleised on the bare ers, And no brech bitwene. For-thi have I no likyng With tho leodes to wonye. I ete there unthende fisshe, And feble ale drynke; Ac outher while whan wyn cometh, Thanne I drynke wyn at eve, And have a flux of a foul mouth Wel fyve dayes after. 2830 Al the wikkednesse that I woot By any of oure bretheren, I couthe it in oure cloistre, That al oure covent woot it." "Now repente thee," quod Repentaunce, "And reherce thow nevere {88} Counseil that thow knowest By contenaunce ne by right; And drynk nat over delicatly, Ne to depe neither, 2840 That thi wille by cause therof To wrathe myghte turne. _Esto sobrius_," he seide, And assoiled me after, And bad me wilne to wepe My wikkednesse to amende. And thanne cam Coveitise, Kan I hym naght discryve, So hungrily and holwe Sire Hervy hym loked. 2850 He was bitel-browed, And baber-lipped also, With two blered eighen As a blynd hagge; And as a letheren purs Lolled hise chekes, Wel sidder than his chyn Thei chyveled for elde; And as a bonde-man of his bacon His berd was bi-draveled, 2860 With an hood on his heed, A lousy hat above, And in a tawny tabard Of twelf wynter age, Al so torn and baudy, And ful of lys crepyng, But if that a lous couthe Han lopen the bettre, She sholde noght han walked on that welthe, So was it thred-bare. 2870 {89} "I have ben coveitous," quod this caytif, "I bi-knowe it here, For som tyme I served Symme-atte-Style, And was his prentice y-plight His profit to wayte. "First I lerned to lye, A leef outher tweyne; Wikkedly to weye Was my firste lesson; 2880 To Wy and to Wynchestre I wente to the feyre, With many manere marchaundise, As my maister me highte. Ne hadde the grace of gyle y-go Amonges my chaffare, It hadde ben unsold this seven yer, So me God helpe! "Thanne drough I me among drapiers, My donet to lerne, 2890 To drawe the liser along, The lenger it semed; Among the riche rayes I rendred a lesson, To broche hem with a pak-nedle, And playte hem togideres, And putte hem in a presse, And pyne hem therinne, Til ten yerdes or twelve Hadde tolled out thrittene. 2900