Fytte the First. [30]
1.
Listen, lordlings, in good intent,
And I will tell you verament
Of mirth and chivalry,
About a knight on glory bent,
In battle and in tournament;
Sir Thopas named was he.
2.
And he was born in a far countréy,
In Flanders, all beyond the sea,
At Popering in the place;
His father was a man full free,
And of that country lord was he,
Enjoyed by holy grace.
3.
Sir Thopas was a doughty swain,
Fair was his face as pain de Maine,
His lips were red as rose;
His ruddy cheeks like scarlet grain;
And I tell you in good certaine,
He had a seemly nose.
4.
His hair and beard like saffron shone,
And to his girdle fell adown;
His shoes of leather bright;
Of Bruges were his hose so brown,
His robe it was of ciclatoun—
He was a costly wight:
5.