For aught I woot he was of Dertemouthe He rood vpon a rouncy as he kouthe In a gowne of faldyng to the knee A daggere hangynge on a laas hadde he Aboute his nekke vnder his arm adown The hoote somer hadde maad his hewe al brown And certeynly he was a good felawe Ful many a draghte of wyn hadde he drawe Fro Burdeuxward whil that the Chapman sleep Of nyce conscience took he no keep From Nl Of no presciens toke ther of noon heed If that he faught and hadde the hyer hond By watre he sente hem hoom to euery lond From Cx1 At fulle many a bataile in that londe But of his craft to rekene wel his tydes His stremys and his daungers hym bisydes His herberwe and his moone his lodmenage Ther was noon swich from Hull to Cartage From Cx1 For wyse he was though he were fulle of corage Hardy he was and wys to vndertake With many a tempest hadde his beerd been shake He knew alle the hauenes as they weere Fro Gootlond to the cape of Fynysteere And euery cryke in Britaigne and in Spaigne His barge yclepyd was the Mawdelayne With vs ther was a Doctour of Phisyk In al this world ne was ther noon hym lyk To speken of Phisyk and of Surgerye For he was grounded in Astronomye He kepte his pacient a ful greet deel