"I have an aunte to nonne, And an abbesse bothe; Hir hadde levere swowe or swelte, Than suffre any peyne, 2780
"I have be cook in hir kichene, And the covent served Manye monthes with hem, And with monkes bothe. I was the prioresse potager, And othere povere ladies, And maad hem joutes of janglyng, That dame Johane was a bastard, And dame Clarice a knyghtes doughter, Ac a cokewold was hir sire; 2790 And dame Pernele a preestes fyle, Prioresse worth she nevere, For she hadde child in chirie-tyme, Al our chapitre it wiste.
"Of wikkede wordes I Wrathe hire wortes made, Til 'thow lixt' and 'thow lixt' Lopen out at ones, And either hite oother Under the cheke; 2800 Hadde thei had knyves, by Crist Hir either hadde kild oother. { 87}
"Seint Gregory was a good pope, And hadde a good forwit, That no prioresse were preest, For that he ordeyned; They hadde thanne ben _infames_ the firste day, Thei kan so yvele hele conseil.
"Among monkes I myghte be, Ac many tyme I shonye it; 2810 For there ben manye felle frekes My feeris to aspie, Bothe priour and suppriour And oure _pater abbas_; And if I telle any tales, Thei taken hem togideres, And doon me faste frydayes To breed and to watre, And am chalanged in the chapitre hous As I a child were, 2820 And baleised on the bare ers, And no brech bitwene. For-thi have I no likyng With tho leodes to wonye. I ete there unthende fisshe, And feble ale drynke; Ac outher while whan wyn cometh, Thanne I drynke wyn at eve, And have a flux of a foul mouth Wel fyve dayes after. 2830 Al the wikkednesse that I woot By any of oure bretheren, I couthe it in oure cloistre, That al oure covent woot it."
"Now repente thee," quod Repentaunce, "And reherce thow nevere { 88} Counseil that thow knowest By contenaunce ne by right; And drynk nat over delicatly, Ne to depe neither, 2840 That thi wille by cause therof To wrathe myghte turne. _Esto sobrius_," he seide, And assoiled me after, And bad me wilne to wepe My wikkednesse to amende.
And thanne cam Coveitise, Kan I hym naght discryve, So hungrily and holwe Sire Hervy hym loked. 2850 He was bitel-browed, And baber-lipped also, With two blered eighen As a blynd hagge; And as a letheren purs Lolled hise chekes, Wel sidder than his chyn Thei chyveled for elde; And as a bonde-man of his bacon His berd was bi-draveled, 2860 With an hood on his heed, A lousy hat above, And in a tawny tabard Of twelf wynter age, Al so torn and baudy, And ful of lys crepyng, But if that a lous couthe Han lopen the bettre, She sholde noght han walked on that welthe, So was it thred-bare. 2870 { 89}