The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer :: :: University of Virginia Library

A Fryar next, to ev'ry Female dear,
All the four Orders never had his Peer.
Wanton, diverting still in Prose or Rhime,
He many Couples married in his Time;
Some young Ones at his own Expence he wed,
And to their Husbands Grief, soon brought to Bed.
A frank Companion, Secret, often try'd
To gentle Dames, a Confessor and Guide;
Licentiate of his Order once, and then,
For one the Curate had, he shrifted ten;
He with a Smile wou'd their Confession hear,
No Soul had Cause his Penances to fear.
His Absolutions pleasant, soft and mild;
He stroak'd 'em as a Parent does his Child.
To a poor Order, lib'ral Ladies fly,
With golden Presents easy Penance buy.

For Man is obstinate, and hard of Heart,
He keeps his Money, tho' he feels the Smart.
But to poor Fryars you must Silver give,
'Tis not with Pray'rs and Fasting they can live;
He stitch'd within his Tippet, pretty Knives,
With silver Pins, small Presents for kind Wives.
In chearful Company, he sung all Day,
To help his Voice, could on the Cittern play;
His Arms were brawny, few such Weights could fling,
Strong as a Champion for an English King.
All Inns and Taverns in the Town he knew,
But from the Poor, he prudently withdrew;
To rich and lib'ral Penitents inclin'd,
To those was meek, and of an humble Mind;
None in Appearance more devout could be,
The ablest Beggar of his House was he;
He farm'd that Income, and procur'd a Grant,
No holy Brother should disturb his Haunt.
Coarse was his Habit, when a begging Fryar,
In wanton Love-days, Gorgeous his Attire.

Of finest Cloth was then his Demi-Cope,
No Mendicant, but Stately as a Pope;
Something he humm'd betwixt a Lisp and Song,
To make his English Sweet upon his Tongue;
His little Pigs-Eyes gave unequal Light,
Like small Stars twinkling in a frosty Night.
The good Wives chuckled, wheresoe'er he came,
A useful Fry'r, and Hubert was his Name.