He thought his guts and garbage doated on,
By a fair Dame, whose Husband was to him
Hyperion to a mummy.
Burning with flames the Lady never knew,
Hotter and heavier than toasted cheese,
He sent her a much warmer billet-doux
Than Abelard e’er writ to Eloïse.
But whether Friar John’s fat shape and face,
Tho’ pleading both together,