The Prologue

of Gaunt. In all the parish wifë was there none, That to the off’ring before her should gon, And if there did, certain so wroth was she, That she was out of allë charity. Her coverchiefs werë full fine of ground; I durstë swear, they weighedë ten pound That on the Sunday were upon her head. Her hosen weren of fine scarlet red, Full strait y-tied, and shoes full moist and new. Bold was her face, and fair and red of hue. She was a worthy woman all her live, Husbands at the church door had she had five, Withouten other company in youth; But thereof needeth not to speak as nouth. And thrice had she been at Jerusalem; She haddë passed many a strangë stream; At Rome she had been, and at Bologne, In Galice at Saint James, and at Cologne; She coudë much of wand’ring by the way. Gat-toothed was she, soothly for to say. Upon an ambler easily she sat, Y-wimpled well, and on her head an hat As broad as is a buckler or a targe. A foot-mantle about her hippës large, And on her feet a pair of spurrës sharp. In fellowship well could she laugh and carp. Of remedies of love she knew perchance, For of that art she coud the oldë dance.