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A SERGEANT OF THE LAWE, war and wys, That often hadde been at the parvys, Ther was also, ful riche of excellence. Discreet he was, and of greet reverence: He semed swich, his wordes weren so wyse. Iustyce he was ful often in assyse, By patente, and by pleyn commissioun; For his science, and for his heigh renoun Of fees and robes hadde he many oon. So greet a purchasour was no-wher noon. Al was fee simple to him in effect, His purchasing mighte nat been infect. No-wher so bisy a man as he ther nas, And yet he semed bisier than he was. In termes hadde he caas and domes alle, That from the tyme of king William were falle. Therto he coude endyte, and make a thing, Ther coude no wight pinche at his wryting; And every statut coude he pleyn by rote. He rood but hoomly in a medlee cote Girt with a ceint of silk, with barres smale; Of his array telle I no lenger tale. There was a

SERGEANT OF LAW

A lawyer commissioned by the king.

SERGEANT OF LAW too, who was both wise and slightly suspicious of everything. He spent a lot of his time consulting with his clients outside St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. He was very wise and well respected and chose his words carefully when he spoke. He had served as the judge in a criminal court before, and his vast knowledge and wisdom had made him famous. He’d earned a lot of money as a judge and had become a great and powerful landowner. He had memorized all of the laws, court cases, and decisions in England over the last 300 years and could therefore write the most perfect legal document. He was an incredibly busy person but always made himself look busier than he really was. He traveled in a simple multicolored coat that was tied together with a silk belt and some small pins. And that’s all I really have to say about his clothing.
A FRANKELEYN was in his companye; Whyt was his berd, as is the dayesye. Of his complexioun he was sangwyn. Wel loved he by the morwe a sop in wyn. To liven in delyt was ever his wone, For he was Epicurus owne sone, That heeld opinioun, that pleyn delyt Was verraily felicitee parfyt. An housholdere, and that a greet, was he; Seint Iulian he was in his contree. His breed, his ale, was alwey after oon; A bettre envyned man was no-wher noon. With-oute bake mete was never his hous, Of fish and flesh, and that so plentevous, It snewed in his hous of mete and drinke, Of alle deyntees that men coude thinke. After the sondry sesons of the yeer, So chaunged he his mete and his soper. Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in mewe, And many a breem and many a luce in stewe. Wo was his cook, but-if his sauce were Poynaunt and sharp, and redy al his gere. His table dormant in his halle alway Stood redy covered al the longe day. At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire; Ful ofte tyme he was knight of the shire. An anlas and a gipser al of silk Heng at his girdel, whyt as morne milk. A shirreve hadde he been, and a countour; Was no-wher such a worthy vavasour. The judge traveled with a

FRANKLIN

A free and independent man who also owned some land.

FRANKLIN. He had a fleshy red face and a snow-white beard. He loved to eat a piece of bread soaked in wine for breakfast every morning. He was an epicurean and believed that the pleasures of the world bring true happiness. He owned a large house and frequently entertained guests who came from miles around. He always had the best bread and beer, and there was so much meat and fish that it must have rained wine and hailed food at his house. He also liked to mix up his diet according to the seasons. His chicken coops were actually filled with partridges and his stewes filled with fish. I pity the chef who served him bland food! His dining room table was always loaded with food no matter what time of day it was. He wore a dagger and a white purse. He was a powerful member of Parliament and a former sheriff. Nowhere was there a more worthy landowner.

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Original Text

Modern Text

A SERGEANT OF THE LAWE, war and wys, That often hadde been at the parvys, Ther was also, ful riche of excellence. Discreet he was, and of greet reverence: He semed swich, his wordes weren so wyse. Iustyce he was ful often in assyse, By patente, and by pleyn commissioun; For his science, and for his heigh renoun Of fees and robes hadde he many oon. So greet a purchasour was no-wher noon. Al was fee simple to him in effect, His purchasing mighte nat been infect. No-wher so bisy a man as he ther nas, And yet he semed bisier than he was. In termes hadde he caas and domes alle, That from the tyme of king William were falle. Therto he coude endyte, and make a thing, Ther coude no wight pinche at his wryting; And every statut coude he pleyn by rote. He rood but hoomly in a medlee cote Girt with a ceint of silk, with barres smale; Of his array telle I no lenger tale. There was a

SERGEANT OF LAW

A lawyer commissioned by the king.

SERGEANT OF LAW too, who was both wise and slightly suspicious of everything. He spent a lot of his time consulting with his clients outside St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. He was very wise and well respected and chose his words carefully when he spoke. He had served as the judge in a criminal court before, and his vast knowledge and wisdom had made him famous. He’d earned a lot of money as a judge and had become a great and powerful landowner. He had memorized all of the laws, court cases, and decisions in England over the last 300 years and could therefore write the most perfect legal document. He was an incredibly busy person but always made himself look busier than he really was. He traveled in a simple multicolored coat that was tied together with a silk belt and some small pins. And that’s all I really have to say about his clothing.
A FRANKELEYN was in his companye; Whyt was his berd, as is the dayesye. Of his complexioun he was sangwyn. Wel loved he by the morwe a sop in wyn. To liven in delyt was ever his wone, For he was Epicurus owne sone, That heeld opinioun, that pleyn delyt Was verraily felicitee parfyt. An housholdere, and that a greet, was he; Seint Iulian he was in his contree. His breed, his ale, was alwey after oon; A bettre envyned man was no-wher noon. With-oute bake mete was never his hous, Of fish and flesh, and that so plentevous, It snewed in his hous of mete and drinke, Of alle deyntees that men coude thinke. After the sondry sesons of the yeer, So chaunged he his mete and his soper. Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in mewe, And many a breem and many a luce in stewe. Wo was his cook, but-if his sauce were Poynaunt and sharp, and redy al his gere. His table dormant in his halle alway Stood redy covered al the longe day. At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire; Ful ofte tyme he was knight of the shire. An anlas and a gipser al of silk Heng at his girdel, whyt as morne milk. A shirreve hadde he been, and a countour; Was no-wher such a worthy vavasour. The judge traveled with a

FRANKLIN

A free and independent man who also owned some land.

FRANKLIN. He had a fleshy red face and a snow-white beard. He loved to eat a piece of bread soaked in wine for breakfast every morning. He was an epicurean and believed that the pleasures of the world bring true happiness. He owned a large house and frequently entertained guests who came from miles around. He always had the best bread and beer, and there was so much meat and fish that it must have rained wine and hailed food at his house. He also liked to mix up his diet according to the seasons. His chicken coops were actually filled with partridges and his stewes filled with fish. I pity the chef who served him bland food! His dining room table was always loaded with food no matter what time of day it was. He wore a dagger and a white purse. He was a powerful member of Parliament and a former sheriff. Nowhere was there a more worthy landowner.

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