Full well beloved and familiar was he
With rich franklins throughout his territory,
And with the worthy women of the town;
For he had power of confession,11
As he said himself, more than a local curate,
For of his order he was licentiate.
Full sweetly he heard confession,
And pleasant was his absolution;
He was an easy man to make penance
Wherever he could expect a nice remembrance.
For unto a poor order to give
Is a sign that a man is well shriven—
For if he gave something, the Friar could be content,
That a man was truly repentant.
For many a man is so hard of heart,
He may not weep though it sore smarts:
Therefore instead of weeping and prayers,
Men may give silver to the poor 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 un-to 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;
And yaf a certeyn ferme for the graunt;
Noon of his bretheren cam ther in his haunt;
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 up-on 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.
His cape was always full of knives
And pins for to give fair wives.
And certainly he had a nice voice;
Well could he sing and pluck the strings:
For ballad singing he was first choice.
His neck white was as the lily flower;
Plus he had a champion’s muscle power.
He knew the taverns well in every town,
And every innkeeper and every bargirl
Better than he knew any leper or lady beggar,
For such a worthy man as he
Should not, in his belief,
Have acquaintance with sick lepers:
It was not dignified and did him no good
To deal with such poor suffering souls,
But always with rich folk and food purveyors.
And everywhere—anywhere—profit promised to arise,
Courteous he was, and humble in service.
There was no man anywhere near so virtuous.
He was the best beggar in his order’s house,
(And gave a certain payment for the grant:12
None of his brothers trespassed on his haunts.)
For though a widow had not a shoe,
So pleasant was his In principio,13
That he would have a farthing before he went.
His income was well better than his rent.
And he could be charming as a pup.
To resolve disputes he could often help,
For he was not like a cloisterer,
With threadbare cape, as is a poor scholar.14
But he was like a master or a pope:
Of double-worsted was his half-cape,
That swelled around him like a bell.