|
A FRERE ther was, a wantown and a merye,
A limitour, a ful solempne man.
In alle the ordres foure is noon that can
So muche of daliaunce and fair langage.
He hadde maad ful many a mariage
Of yonge wommen, at his owne cost.
Unto his ordre he was a noble post.
Ful wel biloved and famulier was he
With frankeleyns over-al in his contree,
And eek with worthy wommen of the toun:
For he had power of confessioun,
As seyde him-self, more than a curat,
For of his ordre he was licentiat.
Ful swetely herde he confessioun,
And plesaunt was his absolucioun;
He was an esy man to yeve penaunce
Ther as he wiste to han a good pitaunce;
For unto a povre ordre for to yive
Is signe that a man is wel y-shrive.
For if he yaf, he dorste make avaunt,
He wiste that a man was repentaunt.
For many a man so hard is of his herte,
He may nat wepe al-thogh him sore smerte.
Therfore, in stede of weping and preyeres,
Men moot yeve silver to the povre freres.
His tipet was ay farsed ful of knyves
And pinnes, for to yeven faire wyves.
And certeinly he hadde a mery note;
Wel coude he singe and pleyen on a rote.
Of yeddinges he bar utterly the prys.
His nekke whyt was as the flour-de-lys;
Ther-to he strong was as a champioun.
He knew the tavernes wel in every toun,
And everich hostiler and tappestere
Bet than a lazar or a beggestere;
For unto swich a worthy man as he
Acorded nat, as by his facultee,
To have with seke lazars aqueyntaunce.
It is nat honest, it may nat avaunce
For to delen with no swich poraille,
But al with riche and sellers of vitaille.
And over-al, ther as profit sholde aryse,
Curteys he was, and lowly of servyse.
Ther nas no man no-wher so vertuous.
He was the beste beggere in his hous;
For thogh a widwe hadde noght a sho,
So plesaunt was his “In principio,”
Yet wolde he have a ferthing, er he wente.
His purchas was wel bettre than his rente.
And rage he coude, as it were right a whelpe.
In love-dayes ther coude he muchel helpe.
For there he was nat lyk a cloisterer,
With a thredbar cope, as is a povre scoler,
But he was lyk a maister or a pope.
Of double worsted was his semi-cope,
That rounded as a belle out of the presse.
Somwhat he lipsed, for his wantownesse,
To make his English swete upon his tonge;
And in his harping, whan that he had songe,
His eyen twinkled in his heed aright,
As doon the sterres in the frosty night.
This worthy limitour was cleped Huberd.
|
There was also a FRIAR named Hubert, who lived happily and excessively. He was
a beggar, but a sweet talking one. Of all the friars in the world, he was the
most playful. He was the best beggar in town and was so smooth that he could
even get the poorest little old ladies to give him money. As a result, he made
more money than he actually needed, which meant that he could play like a puppy
all day long. He was good at resolving legal disputes too, and did so wearing
thick, bell-shaped robes that were so splendid he looked like the pope instead
of a poor friar. He even pretended to have a lisp to make himself sound more
dignified. He had married off many young ladies—much to his own dismay. Oh, he
was one of the Church’s finest all right! All the guys in town—and the women
too—thought he was just great because, as he himself put it, there was no one
who could hear confessions better than he could. All you had to do was slip him
some change and he’d swear up and down that you were the most penitent person
that ever lived, no matter what you’d done or how sorry you really were. And
since bribes are easier than actual remorse, this guy had a lot of nice stuff,
including a fair amount of jewelry in his robes that he’d use to woo the ladies.
He could also play the fiddle and sing the sweetest songs with a twinkle in his
eye. He knew all the bars in town and every bartender and barmaid too. He knew
them much better, in fact, than he knew any of the lepers or beggarwomen or
other poor people whom he was supposed to be helping. It wouldn’t have been
fitting for him, the powerful man that he was, to be seen with such people.
Besides, there’s no money to be made hanging out with the likes of them.
Instead, he’d spend all his time with the wealthy, flattering them so that they
would give him money. Nope, no one was more virtuous!
|
payment page
