Her hose were of fine scarlet red,
Full tightly tied, and shoes full soft and new.
Bold was her face, and fair and red of hue.
She was a worthy woman all her life:
Husbands at church door29 she’d had five,
Not counting other company in youth—
But we need not speak of them right now—
And thrice had she been to Jerusalem.
She had crossed many a foreign stream:
At Rome she hadde been, and at Boloigne,
In Galice at seint Jame, and at Coloigne.
She coude muche of wandring by the weye:
Gat-tothed was she, soothly for to seye.
Up-on an amblere esily she sat,
Y-wimpled wel, and on hir heed an hat
As brood as is a bokeler or a targe;
A foot-mantel aboute hir hipes large,
And on hir feet a paire of spores sharpe.
In felawschip wel coude she laughe and carpe.
Of remedyes of love she knew perchaunce,
For she coude of that art the olde daunce.

A good man was ther of religioun,
And was a povre PERSOUN of a toun;
But riche he was of holy thoght and werk.
He was also a lerned man, a clerk,
That Cristes gospel trewely wolde preche;
His parisshens devoutly wolde he teche.
Benigne he was, and wonder diligent,
And in adversitee ful pacient;
And swich he was y-preved ofte sythes.
Ful looth were him to cursen for his tythes,
But rather wolde he yeven, out of doute,
Un-to his povre parisshens aboute
Of his offring, and eek of his substaunce.
He coude in litel thing han suffisaunce.
Wyd was his parisshe, and houses fer a-sonder,
But he ne lafte nat, for reyn ne thonder,
In siknes nor in meschief, to visyte
The ferreste in his parisshe, muche and lyte,
Up-on his feet, and in his hand a staf.
This noble ensample to his sheep he yaf,
That first he wroghte, and afterward he taughte;
Out of the gospel he tho wordes caughte;
And this figure he added eek ther-to,
That if gold ruste, what shal iren do?
For if a preest be foul, on whom we truste,
No wonder is a lewed man to ruste;
And shame it is, if a preest take keep,
To Rome she had been,30 and to Boulogne,
In Galicia to Saint James, and to Cologne;
She knew much of wandering along the road.
Gap-toothed she was, the truth to say.
Upon an easyriding horse she easily sat,
Wimpled well, and on her head a hat
As broad as is a buckler or a targe;
An overskirt about her hips large,
And on her feet a pair of spurs sharp.
She was full of laughter and of gossip.
Of love remedies she knew by chance,
For she knew the steps of that old dance.

A good man was there of religion,
And he was a poor PARSON of a town,
But rich he was in holy thought and work.
He was also a learned man, a scholar
Who Christ’s gospel truly would preach,
His parishioners devotedly would he teach.
Kindly he was, and very diligent,
And in adversity full patient,
And he proved to be such oftentimes.
Full loath was he to excommunicate for his tithes,31
But rather would he give, without a doubt,
Unto his poor parishioners out of
His offerings and his income.
He knew how to have enough with not much.
Wide was his parish, and houses far apart,
But he neglected none, for rain nor thunder,
In sickness nor in misfortune, to visit
The furthest in his parish, great and humble,
Travelling by foot, and in his hand a staff.
This noble example to his sheep he gave,
That first he wrought, and afterward he taught.
From the gospel he these words took,
And this metaphor he added thereto:
That if gold rusts, what should iron do?
For if a priest be corrupt, upon whom we trust,
No wonder is an unlearned man to rust;
And shame it is if a priest be seen,
A shiten shepherde and a clene sheep.
Wel oghte a preest ensample for to yive,
By his clennesse, how that his sheep shold live.
He sette nat his benefice to hyre,
And leet his sheep encombred in the myre,
And ran to London, un-to sëynt Poules,
To seken him a chaunterie for soules,
Or with a bretherhed to been withholde;
But dwelte at hoom, and kepte wel his folde,
So that the wolf ne made it nat miscarie;
He was a shepherde and no mercenarie.
And though he holy were, and vertuous,
He was to sinful man nat despitous,
Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne,
But in his teching discreet and benigne.
To drawen folk to heven by fairnesse
By good ensample, was his bisinesse:
But it were any persone obstinat,
What-so he were, of heigh or lowe estat,
Him wolde he snibben sharply for the nones.
A bettre preest, I trowe that nowher noon is.