A smiling friar in a red robe holds keys and a chained dagger in a bustling medieval marketplace, detailed illustration.

A FRIAR there was, a wanton and a merry, A limitour, a full and solemne man. In all the Four Orders is none that can So much with dalliance and fair talk Fast many a marriage y-aisle to walk Of young women, at his owen yield. Unto his order he was a noble appeal; Full well beloved, and familiar was he With franklins over all in his country be, And was with worthy women of the town: He had power of confession brought down, Full sweetly heard he many confession, And pleasant was he in his moral lesson. For many a man so hard is of his heart, He may not weep although him sore smart. No more weeping and prayers requires Men must give silver to the poor friars. His tippet was aye stuffed full of knives And pins, for to give to faire wives; And certainly he had a merry song: Well could he sing from memory strong; Of songs he bare the best would agree His neck was white as is the fleur-de-lis. Thereto was strong as any champion around, And knew well the taverns in every town. And every hostel and fine bedding, Better than a leper or one a begging, As for to deal with no such refuse, But all with rich, and sellers of food. There was no man so virtuous about. He was the best beggar in all his house: And gave a certain farm paying the fee No bretheren came poaching the property. For though a widow had but one shoe, So pleasant was his In Principio coo. Yet would he have a farthing ere he went; His purchase was well better than his rent. And rage he could and play as any whelp, In See more