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A FRANKELEYN was in his compaignye.
Whit was his berd as is a dayesye;
Of his complexioun he was sangwyn. ‡
Wel loved he by the morwe a sope in wyn;
To lyven in delit was evere his wone,
For he was Epicurus owene sone,
That heeld opinioun that pleyn delit
Was verray felicitee parfit.
An housholdere, and that a greet, was he; †
Seint Julian was he in his contree. †
His breed, his ale, was alweys after oon,
A bettre envyned man was nowher noon.
Withoute bake mete was nevere his hous
Of fissh and flessh, and that so plentevous,
It snewed in his hous of mete and drynke,
Of alle deyntees that men koude thynke.
After the sondry sesons of the yeer,
So chaunged he his mete and his soper. †
Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in muwe,
And many a breem and many a luce in stuwe. ‡
Wo was his cook, but if his sauce were †
Poynaunt and sharp, and redy al his geere. †
His table dormant in his halle alway
Stood redy covered al the longe day.
At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire; †
Ful ofte tyme he was knyght of the shire.
An anlaas and a gipser al of silk
Heeng at his girdel, whit as morne milk.
A shirreve hadde he been, and a countour.
Was nowher swich a worthy vavasour.
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