Who, in her smiling, modest was and coy;
             Her greatest oath was but "By Saint Eloy!"
             And she was known as Madam Eglantine.
             Full well she sang the services divine,
             Intoning through her nose, becomingly;
             And fair she spoke her French, and fluently,
             After the school of Stratford-at-the-Bow,
             For French of Paris was not hers to know.
             At table she had been well taught withal,
             And never from her lips let morsels fall,
             Nor dipped her fingers deep in sauce, but ate
             With so much care the food upon her plate
             That never driblet fell upon her breast.
             In courtesy she had delight and zest.
             Her upper lip was always wiped so clean
             Of grease, when she had drunk her draught of wine.
             Becomingly she reached for meat to dine.
             And certainly delighting in good sport,
             She was right pleasant, amiable- in short.
             She was at pains to counterfeit the look
             Of courtliness, and stately manners took,
             And would be held worthy of reverence.
             But, to say something of her moral sense,
             That she would weep if she but saw a mouse
             Caught in a trap, though it were dead or bled.
             She had some little dogs, too, that she fed
             On roasted flesh, or milk and fine white bread.
             But sore she'd weep if one of them were dead,
             Or if men smote it with a rod to smart:
             For pity ruled her, and her tender heart.
             Right decorous her pleated wimple was;
             Her nose was fine; her eyes were blue as glass;
             Her mouth was small and therewith soft and red;
             But certainly she had a fair forehead;
             It was almost a full span broad, I own,
             For, truth to tell, she was not undergrown.
             Neat was her cloak, as I was well aware.
             Of coral small about her arm she'd bear
             A string of beads and gauded all with green;
             And therefrom hung a brooch of golden sheen
             Whereon there was first written a crowned "A,"
             This passage is an excerpt from the prologue
             ...