By-cause that it was old and somdel streit,
This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace
And held after the newe world the space.
... therfor he was a fricasour aright
Grehoundes he hadde, as swifte as fowel in flight.
Of pricking and of hunting for the hare
Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare
His head was balled, that shoon as any glas
And eek his face, as he hadde been anoint.
He was a lord ful fat and in good point