Another Nonne with hire had she,
That was their Chapeleyne, and preestes thre.
	A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrie,
An outridere that louede venerie,
A manly man to been an Abbot able.
fful many a deyntee hors had he in stable,
and what he rrod, men myghte his brydel heere
Gynglen in a whistlynge wynd als cleere
And also as loude as dooth the Chapel belle,
Ther as this lord was kepere of the Celle.
The reule of seint Maure of of seint Beneit,
By cause that it was old and som del streit,
This ilke Monk leet olde thynges pace
And heeld after the newe world the space.
He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen
That seith that hunters beth nat hooly men,
Ne that a Monk whan he recchelees
Is likned til a fissh that is waterlees,
This is to seyn a Monk out of his Cloystere.
Buth thilke text heeld he nat worth an Oystre,
And I seyde his opinion was good,
What sholde he studie and make hym seluen wood
Vp on a book in Cloystre alwey to poure,
Or swynken with his hande, and laboure,
As Austyn bit? how shal the world be serued)
Lat Austyn have his owene swynk to hym reserued!
Therfore he was a prikasour aright.
Grehoundes he had as swift as fowel in flight;
Of prikyng and of huntyng for the hare
Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.
I seigh his sleues ypurfiled at the hond
With grys, and that the fyneste of a lond;
And for to festne his hood vnder his chyn
He had, of gold ywroght, a ful curious pyn.
A loue knotte in the gretter ende ther was.
His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas,
And also his face, as it had been enoynt,
He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt;
Hise eyen stepe and rollynge in his heed,
That stemed as a forneys of a leed;
His bootes souple, his hors in greet estaat.
Now certainly he was a fair prelaat.
He nas nat pale as a forpyned goost.
A fat swan loued he best of any roost.
His palfrey was as broun as is a berye.