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The General Prologue

Here biginneth the Book of the Tales of Caunterbury

1. Whan that Aprille with his shoures sote
2. The droghte of Marche hath perced to the rote,
3. And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
4. Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
5. Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
6. Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
7. The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
8. Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,
9. And smale fowles maken melodye,
10. That slepen al the night with open yë,
11. (So priketh hem nature in hir corages):
12. Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
13. (And palmers for to seken straunge strondes)
14. To ferne halwes, couthe in sondry londes;
15. And specially, from every shires ende
16. Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,
17. The holy blisful martir for to seke,
18. That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seke.
19. Bifel that, in that seson on a day,
20. In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay
21. Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage
22. To Caunterbury with ful devout corage,
23. At night was come in-to that hostelrye
24. Wel nyne and twenty in a companye,
25. Of sondry folk, by aventure y-falle
26. In felawshipe, and pilgrims were they alle,
27. That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde;
28. The chambres and the stables weren wyde,
29. And wel we weren esed atte beste.
30. And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste,
31. So hadde I spoken with hem everichon,
32. That I was of hir felawshipe anon,
33. And made forward erly for to ryse,
34. To take our wey, ther as I yow devyse.
35. But natheles, whyl I have tyme and space,
36. Er that I ferther in this tale pace,
37. Me thinketh it acordaunt to resoun,
38. To telle yow al the condicioun
39. Of ech of hem, so as it semed me,
40. And whiche they weren, and of what degree;
41. And eek in what array that they were inne:
42. And at a knight than wol I first biginne.
43. A Knight ther was, and that a worthy man, Knight.
44. That fro the tyme that he first bigan
45. To ryden out, he loved chivalrye,
46. Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisye.
47. Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre,
48. And therto hadde he riden (no man ferre)
49. As wel in Cristendom as hethenesse,
50. And ever honoured for his worthinesse.
51. At Alisaundre he was, whan it was wonne;
52. Ful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bigonne
53. Aboven alle naciouns in Pruce.
54. In Lettow hadde he reysed and in Ruce,
55. No Cristen man so ofte of his degree.
56. In Gernade at the sege eek hadde he be
57. Of Algezir, and riden in Belmarye.
58. At Lyeys was he, and at Satalye,
59. Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete See
60. At many a noble aryve hadde he be.
61. At mortal batailles hadde he been fiftene,
62. And foughten for our feith at Tramissene
63. In listes thryes, and ay slayn his foo.
64. This ilke worthy knight had been also
65. Somtyme with the lord of Palatye,
66. Ageyn another hethen in Turkye:
67. And evermore he hadde a sovereyn prys.
68. And though that he were worthy, he was wys,
69. And of his port as meke as is a mayde.
70. He never yet no vileinye ne sayde
71. In al his lyf, un-to no maner wight.
72. He was a verray parfit gentil knight.
73. But for to tellen yow of his array,
74. His hors were gode, but he was nat gay.
75. Of fustian he wered a gipoun
76. Al bismotered with his habergeoun;
77. For he was late y-come from his viage,
78. And wente for to doon his pilgrimage.
79. With him ther was his sone, a yong Squyer, Squyer.
80. A lovyere, and a lusty bacheler,
81. With lokkes crulle, as they were leyd in presse.
82. Of twenty yeer of age he was, I gesse.
83. Of his stature he was of evene lengthe,
84. And wonderly deliver, and greet of strengthe.
85. And he had been somtyme in chivachye,
86. In Flaundres, in Artoys, and Picardye,
87. And born him wel, as of so litel space,
88. In hope to stonden in his lady grace.
89. Embrouded was he, as it were a mede
90. Al ful of fresshe floures, whyte and rede.
91. Singinge he was, or floytinge, al the day;
92. He was as fresh as is the month of May.
93. Short was his goune, with sleves longe and wyde.
94. Wel coude he sitte on hors, and faire ryde.
95. He coude songes make and wel endyte,
96. Iuste and eek daunce, and wel purtreye and wryte,
97. So hote he lovede, that by nightertale
98. He sleep namore than dooth a nightingale.
99. Curteys he was, lowly, and servisable,
100. And carf biforn his fader at the table.
101. A Yeman hadde he, and servaunts namo Yeman.
102. At that tyme, for him liste ryde so;
103. And he was clad in cote and hood of grene;
104. A sheef of pecok-arwes brighte and kene
105. Under his belt he bar ful thriftily;
106. (Wel coude he dresse his takel yemanly:
107. His arwes drouped noght with fetheres lowe),
108. And in his hand he bar a mighty bowe.
109. A not-heed hadde he, with a broun visage.
110. Of wode-craft wel coude he al the usage.
111. Upon his arm he bar a gay bracer,
112. And by his syde a swerd and a bokeler,
113. And on that other syde a gay daggere,
114. Harneised wel, and sharp as point of spere;
115. A Cristofre on his brest of silver shene.
116. An horn he bar, the bawdrik was of grene;
117. A forster was he, soothly, as I gesse.
118. Ther was also a Nonne, a Prioresse, Prioresse.
119. That of hir smyling was ful simple and coy;
120. Hir gretteste ooth was but by sëynt Loy;
121. And she was cleped madame Eglentyne.
122. Ful wel she song the service divyne,
123. Entuned in hir nose ful semely;
124. And Frensh she spak ful faire and fetisly,
125. After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe,
126. For Frensh of Paris was to hir unknowe.
127. At mete wel y-taught was she with-alle;
128. She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,
129. Ne wette hir fingres in hir sauce depe.
130. Wel coude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe,
131. That no drope ne fille up-on hir brest.
132. In curteisye was set ful muche hir lest.
133. Hir over lippe wyped she so clene,
134. That in hir coppe was no ferthing sene
135. Of grece, whan she dronken hadde hir draughte.
136. Ful semely after hir mete she raughte,
137. And sikerly she was of greet disport,
138. And ful plesaunt, and amiable of port,
139. And peyned hir to countrefete chere
140. Of court, and been estatlich of manere,
141. And to ben holden digne of reverence.
142. But, for to speken of hir conscience,
143. She was so charitable and so pitous,
144. She wolde wepe, if that she sawe a mous
145. Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.
146. Of smale houndes had she, that she fedde
147. With rosted flesh, or milk and wastel-breed.
148. But sore weep she if oon of hem were deed,
149. Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte:
150. And al was conscience and tendre herte.
151. Ful semely hir wimpel pinched was;
152. Hir nose tretys; hir eyen greye as glas;
153. Hir mouth ful smal, and ther-to softe and reed;
154. But sikerly she hadde a fair forheed;
155. It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe;
156. For, hardily, she was nat undergrowe.
157. Ful fetis was hir cloke, as I was war.
158. Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar
159. A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene;
160. And ther-on heng a broche of gold ful shene,
161. On which ther was first write a crowned A,
162. And after, Amor vincit omnia.
163. Another Nonne with hir hadde she, Nonne.
164. That was hir chapeleyne, and Preestes three. Preestes.
165. A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrye, Monk.
166. An out-rydere, that lovede venerye;
167. A manly man, to been an abbot able.
168. Ful many a deyntee hors hadde he in stable:
169. And, whan he rood, men mighte his brydel here
170. Ginglen in a whistling wind as clere,
171. And eek as loude as dooth the chapel-belle,
172. Ther as this lord was keper of the celle.
173. The reule of seint Maure or of seint Beneit,
174. By-cause that it was old and som-del streit,
175. This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace,
176. And held after the newe world the space.
177. He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen,
178. That seith, that hunters been nat holy men;
179. Ne that a monk, whan he is cloisterlees,
180. Is lykned til a fish that is waterlees;
181. This is to seyn, a monk out of his cloistre.
182. But thilke text held he nat worth an oistre;
183. And I seyde, his opinioun was good.
184. What sholde he studie, and make him-selven wood,
185. Upon a book in cloistre alwey to poure,
186. Or swinken with his handes, and laboure,
187. As Austin bit? How shal the world be served?
188. Lat Austin have his swink to him reserved.
189. Therfore he was a pricasour aright;
190. Grehoundes he hadde, as swifte as fowel in flight;
191. Of priking and of hunting for the hare
192. Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.
193. I seigh his sleves purfled at the hond
194. With grys, and that the fyneste of a lond;
195. And, for to festne his hood under his chin,
196. He hadde of gold y-wroght a curious pin:
197. A love-knotte in the gretter ende ther was.
198. His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas,
199. And eek his face, as he had been anoint.
200. He was a lord ful fat and in good point;
201. His eyen stepe, and rollinge in his heed,
202. That stemed as a forneys of a leed;
203. His botes souple, his hors in greet estat.
204. Now certeinly he was a fair prelat;
205. He was nat pale as a for-pyned goost.
206. A fat swan loved he best of any roost.
207. His palfrey was as broun as is a berye.
208. A Frere ther was, a wantown and a merye, Frere.
209. A limitour, a ful solempne man.
210. In alle the ordres foure is noon that can
211. So muche of daliaunce and fair langage.
212. He hadde maad ful many a mariage
213. Of yonge wommen, at his owne cost.
214. Un-to his ordre he was a noble post.
215. Ful wel biloved and famulier was he
216. With frankeleyns over-al in his contree,
217. And eek with worthy wommen of the toun:
218. For he had power of confessioun,
219. As seyde him-self, more than a curat,
220. For of his ordre he was licentiat.
221. Ful swetely herde he confessioun,
222. And plesaunt was his absolucioun;
223. He was an esy man to yeve penaunce
224. Ther as he wiste to han a good pitaunce;
225. For unto a povre ordre for to yive
226. Is signe that a man is wel y-shrive.
227. For if he yaf, he dorste make avaunt,
228. He wiste that a man was repentaunt.
229. For many a man so hard is of his herte,
230. He may nat wepe al-thogh him sore smerte.
231. Therfore, in stede of weping and preyeres,
232. Men moot yeve silver to the povre freres.
233. His tipet was ay farsed ful of knyves
234. And pinnes, for to yeven faire wyves.
235. And certeinly he hadde a mery note;
236. Wel coude he singe and pleyen on a rote.
237. Of yeddinges he bar utterly the prys.
238. His nekke whyt was as the flour-de-lys;
239. Ther-to he strong was as a champioun.
240. He knew the tavernes wel in every toun,
241. And everich hostiler and tappestere
242. Bet than a lazar or a beggestere;
243. For un-to swich a worthy man as he
244. Acorded nat, as by his facultee,
245. To have with seke lazars aqueyntaunce.
246. It is nat honest, it may nat avaunce
247. For to delen with no swich poraille,
248. But al with riche and sellers of vitaille.
249. And over-al, ther as profit sholde aryse,
250. Curteys he was, and lowly of servyse.
251. Ther nas no man no-wher so vertuous.
252. He was the beste beggere in his hous;
252. [And yaf a certeyn ferme for the graunt;
252. Noon of his bretheren cam ther in his haunt;]
253. For thogh a widwe hadde noght a sho,
254. So plesaunt was his “In principio,”
255. Yet wolde he have a ferthing, er he wente.
256. His purchas was wel bettre than his rente.
257. And rage he coude, as it were right a whelpe.
258. In love-dayes ther coude he muchel helpe.
259. For there he was nat lyk a cloisterer,
260. With a thredbar cope, as is a povre scoler,
261. But he was lyk a maister or a pope.
262. Of double worsted was his semi-cope,
263. That rounded as a belle out of the presse.
264. Somwhat he lipsed, for his wantownesse,
265. To make his English swete up-on his tonge;
266. And in his harping, whan that he had songe,
267. His eyen twinkled in his heed aright,
268. As doon the sterres in the frosty night.
269. This worthy limitour was cleped Huberd.
270. A Marchant was ther with a forked berd, Marchant.
271. In mottelee, and hye on horse he sat,
272. Up-on his heed a Flaundrish bever hat;
273. His botes clasped faire and fetisly.
274. His resons he spak ful solempnely,
275. Souninge alway thencrees of his winning.
276. He wolde the see were kept for any thing
277. Bitwixe Middelburgh and Orewelle.
278. Wel coude he in eschaunge sheeldes selle.
279. This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette;
280. Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette,
281. So estatly was he of his governaunce,
282. With his bargaynes, and with his chevisaunce.
283. For sothe he was a worthy man with-alle,
284. But sooth to seyn, I noot how men him calle.
285. A Clerk ther was of Oxenford also, Clerk.
286. That un-to logik hadde longe y-go.
287. As lene was his hors as is a rake,
288. And he nas nat right fat, I undertake;
289. But loked holwe, and ther-to soberly.
290. Ful thredbar was his overest courtepy;
291. For he had geten him yet no benefyce,
292. Ne was so worldly for to have offyce.
293. For him was lever have at his beddes heed
294. Twenty bokes, clad in blak or reed,
295. Of Aristotle and his philosophye,
296. Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrye.
297. But al be that he was a philosophre,
298. Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre;
299. But al that he mighte of his freendes hente,
300. On bokes and on lerninge he it spente,
301. And bisily gan for the soules preye
302. Of hem that yaf him wher-with to scoleye.
303. Of studie took he most cure and most hede.
304. Noght o word spak he more than was nede,
305. And that was seyd in forme and reverence,
306. And short and quik, and ful of hy sentence.
307. Souninge in moral vertu was his speche,
308. And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.
309. A Sergeant of the Lawe, war and wys, Man of Lawe.
310. That often hadde been at the parvys,
311. Ther was also, ful riche of excellence.
312. Discreet he was, and of greet reverence:
313. He semed swich, his wordes weren so wyse.
314. Iustyce he was ful often in assyse,
315. By patente, and by pleyn commissioun;
316. For his science, and for his heigh renoun
317. Of fees and robes hadde he many oon.
318. So greet a purchasour was no-wher noon.
319. Al was fee simple to him in effect,
320. His purchasing mighte nat been infect.
321. No-wher so bisy a man as he ther nas,
322. And yet he semed bisier than he was.
323. In termes hadde he caas and domes alle,
324. That from the tyme of king William were falle.
325. Therto he coude endyte, and make a thing,
326. Ther coude no wight pinche at his wryting;
327. And every statut coude he pleyn by rote.
328. He rood but hoomly in a medlee cote
329. Girt with a ceint of silk, with barres smale;
330. Of his array telle I no lenger tale.
331. A Frankeleyn was in his companye; Frankeleyn.
332. Whyt was his berd, as is the dayesye.
333. Of his complexioun he was sangwyn.
334. Wel loved he by the morwe a sop in wyn.
335. To liven in delyt was ever his wone,
336. For he was Epicurus owne sone,
337. That heeld opinioun, that pleyn delyt
338. Was verraily felicitee parfyt.
339. An housholdere, and that a greet, was he;
340. Seint Iulian he was in his contree.
341. His breed, his ale, was alwey after oon;
342. A bettre envyned man was no-wher noon.
343. With-oute bake mete was never his hous,
344. Of fish and flesh, and that so plentevous,
345. It snewed in his hous of mete and drinke,
346. Of alle deyntees that men coude thinke.
347. After the sondry sesons of the yeer,
348. So chaunged he his mete and his soper.
349. Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in mewe,
350. And many a breem and many a luce in stewe.
351. Wo was his cook, but-if his sauce were
352. Poynaunt and sharp, and redy al his gere.
353. His table dormant in his halle alway
354. Stood redy covered al the longe day.
355. At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire;
356. Ful ofte tyme he was knight of the shire.
357. An anlas and a gipser al of silk
358. Heng at his girdel, whyt as morne milk.
359. A shirreve hadde he been, and a countour;
360. Was no-wher such a worthy vavasour.
361. An Haberdassher and a Carpenter, Habaerdassher.
362. A Webbe, a Dyere, and a Tapicer, Carpenter.
363. Were with us eek, clothed in o liveree, Webbe. Dyere.
364. Of a solempne and greet fraternitee. Tapicer.
365. Ful fresh and newe hir gere apyked was;
366. Hir knyves were y-chaped noght with bras,
367. But al with silver, wroght ful clene and weel,
368. Hir girdles and hir pouches every-deel.
369. Wel semed ech of hem a fair burgeys,
370. To sitten in a yeldhalle on a deys.
371. Everich, for the wisdom that he can,
372. Was shaply for to been an alderman.
373. For catel hadde they y-nogh and rente,
374. And eek hir wyves wolde it wel assente;
375. And elles certein were they to blame.
376. It is ful fair to been y-clept “ma dame,”
377. And goon to vigilyës al bifore,
378. And have a mantel royalliche y-bore.
379. A Cook they hadde with hem for the nones, Cook.
380. To boille the chiknes with the mary-bones,
381. And poudre-marchant tart, and galingale.
382. Wel coude he knowe a draughte of London ale.
383. He coude roste, and sethe, and broille, and frye,
384. Maken mortreux, and wel bake a pye.
385. But greet harm was it, as it thoughte me,
386. That on his shine a mormal hadde he;
387. For blankmanger, that made he with the beste.
388. A Shipman was ther, woning fer by weste: Shipman.
389. For aught I woot, he was of Dertemouthe.
390. He rood up-on a rouncy, as he couthe,
391. In a gowne of falding to the knee.
392. A daggere hanging on a laas hadde he
393. Aboute his nekke under his arm adoun.
394. The hote somer had maad his hewe al broun;
395. And, certeinly, he was a good felawe.
396. Ful many a draughte of wyn had he y-drawe
397. From Burdeux-ward, whyl that the chapman sleep.
398. Of nyce conscience took he no keep.
399. If that he faught, and hadde the hyer hond,
400. By water he sente hem hoom to every lond.
401. But of his craft to rekene wel his tydes,
402. His stremes and his daungers him bisydes,
403. His herberwe and his mone, his lodemenage,
404. Ther nas noon swich from Hulle to Cartage.
405. Hardy he was, and wys to undertake;
406. With many a tempest hadde his berd been shake.
407. He knew wel alle the havenes, as they were,
408. From Gootlond to the cape of Finistere,
409. And every cryke in Britayne and in Spayne;
410. His barge y-cleped was the Maudelayne.
411. With us ther was a Doctour of Phisyk, Doctour.
412. In al this world ne was ther noon him lyk
413. To speke of phisik and of surgerye;
414. For he was grounded in astronomye.
415. He kepte his pacient a ful greet del
416. In houres, by his magik naturel.
417. Wel coude he fortunen the ascendent
418. Of his images for his pacient.
419. He knew the cause of everich maladye,
420. Were it of hoot or cold, or moiste, or drye,
421. And where engendred, and of what humour;
422. He was a verrey parfit practisour.
423. The cause y-knowe, and of his harm the rote,
424. Anon he yaf the seke man his bote.
425. Ful redy hadde he his apothecaries,
426. To sende him drogges and his letuaries,
427. For ech of hem made other for to winne;
428. Hir frendschipe nas nat newe to biginne.
429. Wel knew he the olde Esculapius,
430. And Deiscorides, and eek Rufus,
431. Old Ypocras, Haly, and Galien;
432. Serapion, Razis, and Avicen;
433. Averrois, Damascien, and Constantyn;
434. Bernard, and Gatesden, and Gilbertyn.
435. Of his diete mesurable was he,
436. For it was of no superfluitee,
437. But of greet norissing and digestible.
438. His studie was but litel on the Bible.
439. In sangwin and in pers he clad was al,
440. Lyned with taffata and with sendal;
441. And yet he was but esy of dispence;
442. He kepte that he wan in pestilence.
443. For gold in phisik is a cordial,
444. Therfore he lovede gold in special.
445. A good Wyf was ther of bisyde Bathe, Wyf of Bathe.
446. But she was som-del deef, and that was scathe.
447. Of clooth-making she hadde swiche an haunt,
448. She passed hem of Ypres and of Gaunt.
449. In al the parisshe wyf ne was ther noon
450. That to the offring bifore hir sholde goon;
451. And if ther dide, certeyn, so wrooth was she,
452. That she was out of alle charitee.
453. Hir coverchiefs ful fyne were of ground;
454. I dorste swere they weyeden ten pound
455. That on a Sonday were upon hir heed.
456. Hir hosen weren of fyn scarlet reed,
457. Ful streite y-teyd, and shoos ful moiste and newe.
458. Bold was hir face, and fair, and reed of hewe.
459. She was a worthy womman al hir lyve,
460. Housbondes at chirche-dore she hadde fyve,
461. Withouten other companye in youthe;
462. But therof nedeth nat to speke as nouthe.
463. And thryes hadde she been at Ierusalem;
464. She hadde passed many a straunge streem;
465. At Rome she hadde been, and at Boloigne,
466. In Galice at seint Iame, and at Coloigne.
467. She coude muche of wandring by the weye.
468. Gat-tothed was she, soothly for to seye.
469. Up-on an amblere esily she sat,
470. Y-wimpled wel, and on hir heed an hat
471. As brood as is a bokeler or a targe;
472. A foot-mantel aboute hir hipes large,
473. And on hir feet a paire of spores sharpe.
474. In felawschip wel coude she laughe and carpe.
475. Of remedyes of love she knew per-chaunce,
476. For she coude of that art the olde daunce.
477. A good man was ther of religioun, Persoun.
478. And was a povre Persoun of a toun;
479. But riche he was of holy thoght and werk.
480. He was also a lerned man, a clerk,
481. That Cristes gospel trewely wolde preche;
482. His parisshens devoutly wolde he teche.
483. Benigne he was, and wonder diligent,
484. And in adversitee ful pacient;
485. And swich he was y-preved ofte sythes.
486. Ful looth were him to cursen for his tythes,
487. But rather wolde he yeven, out of doute,
488. Un-to his povre parisshens aboute
489. Of his offring, and eek of his substaunce.
490. He coude in litel thing han suffisaunce.
491. Wyd was his parisshe, and houses fer a-sonder,
492. But he ne lafte nat, for reyn ne thonder,
493. In siknes nor in meschief, to visyte
494. The ferreste in his parisshe, muche and lyte,
495. Up-on his feet, and in his hand a staf.
496. This noble ensample to his sheep he yaf,
497. That first he wroghte, and afterward he taughte;
498. Out of the gospel he tho wordes caughte;
499. And this figure he added eek ther-to,
500. That if gold ruste, what shal iren do?
501. For if a preest be foul, on whom we truste,
502. No wonder is a lewed man to ruste;
503. And shame it is, if a preest take keep,
504. A shiten shepherde and a clene sheep.
505. Wel oghte a preest ensample for to yive,
506. By his clennesse, how that his sheep shold live.
507. He sette nat his benefice to hyre,
508. And leet his sheep encombred in the myre,
509. And ran to London, un-to sëynt Poules,
510. To seken him a chaunterie for soules,
511. Or with a bretherhed to been withholde;
512. But dwelte at hoom, and kepte wel his folde,
513. So that the wolf ne made it nat miscarie;
514. He was a shepherde and no mercenarie.
515. And though he holy were, and vertuous,
516. He was to sinful man nat despitous,
517. Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne,
518. But in his teching discreet and benigne.
519. To drawen folk to heven by fairnesse
520. By good ensample, was his bisinesse:
521. But it were any persone obstinat,
522. What-so he were, of heigh or lowe estat,
523. Him wolde he snibben sharply for the nones.
524. A bettre preest, I trowe that nowher noon is.
525. He wayted after no pompe and reverence,
526. Ne maked him a spyced conscience,
527. But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve,
528. He taughte, and first he folwed it him-selve.
529. With him ther was a Plowman, was his brother, Plowman.
530. That hadde y-lad of dong ful many a fother,
531. A trewe swinker and a good was he,
532. Livinge in pees and parfit charitee.
533. God loved he best with al his hole herte
534. At alle tymes, thogh him gamed or smerte,
535. And thanne his neighebour right as him-selve.
536. He wolde thresshe, and ther-to dyke and delve,
537. For Cristes sake, for every povre wight,
538. Withouten hyre, if it lay in his might.
539. His tythes payed he ful faire and wel,
540. Bothe of his propre swink and his catel.
541. In a tabard he rood upon a mere.
542. Ther was also a Reve and a Millere,
543. A Somnour and a Pardoner also,
544. A Maunciple, and my-self; ther were namo.
545. The Miller was a stout carl, for the nones, Miller.
546. Ful big he was of braun, and eek of bones;
547. That proved wel, for over-al ther he cam,
548. At wrastling he wolde have alwey the ram.
549. He was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre,
550. Ther nas no dore that he nolde heve of harre,
551. Or breke it, at a renning, with his heed.
552. His berd as any sowe or fox was reed,
553. And ther-to brood, as though it were a spade.
554. Up-on the cop right of his nose he hade
555. A werte, and ther-on stood a tuft of heres,
556. Reed as the bristles of a sowes eres;
557. His nose-thirles blake were and wyde.
558. A swerd and bokeler bar he by his syde;
559. His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys.
560. He was a Ianglere and a goliardeys,
561. And that was most of sinne and harlotryes.
562. Wel coude he stelen corn, and tollen thryes;
563. And yet he hadde a thombe of gold, pardee.
564. A whyt cote and a blew hood wered he.
565. A baggepype wel coude he blowe and sowne,
566. And ther-with-al he broghte us out of towne.
567. A gentil Maunciple was ther of a temple, Maunciple.
568. Of which achatours mighte take exemple
569. For to be wyse in bying of vitaille.
570. For whether that he payde, or took by taille,
571. Algate he wayted so in his achat,
572. That he was ay biforn and in good stat.
573. Now is nat that of God a ful fair grace,
574. That swich a lewed mannes wit shal pace
575. The wisdom of an heep of lerned men?
576. Of maistres hadde he mo than thryes ten,
577. That were of lawe expert and curious;
578. Of which ther were a doseyn in that hous,
579. Worthy to been stiwardes of rente and lond
580. Of any lord that is in Engelond,
581. To make him live by his propre good,
582. In honour dettelees, but he were wood,
583. Or live as scarsly as him list desire;
584. And able for to helpen al a shire
585. In any cas that mighte falle or happe;
586. And yit this maunciple sette hir aller cappe.
587. The Reve was a sclendre colerik man, Reve.
588. His berd was shave as ny as ever he can.
589. His heer was by his eres round y-shorn.
590. His top was dokked lyk a preest biforn.
591. Ful longe were his legges, and ful lene,
592. Y-lyk a staf, ther was no calf y-sene.
593. Wel coude he kepe a gerner and a binne;
594. Ther was noon auditour coude on him winne.
595. Wel wiste he, by the droghte, and by the reyn,
596. The yelding of his seed, and of his greyn.
597. His lordes sheep, his neet, his dayerye,
598. His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrye,
599. Was hoolly in this reves governing,
600. And by his covenaunt yaf the rekening,
601. Sin that his lord was twenty yeer of age;
602. Ther coude no man bringe him in arrerage.
603. Ther nas baillif, ne herde, ne other hyne,
604. That he ne knew his sleighte and his covyne;
605. They were adrad of him, as of the deeth.
606. His woning was ful fair up-on an heeth,
607. With grene treës shadwed was his place.
608. He coude bettre than his lord purchace.
609. Ful riche he was astored prively,
610. His lord wel coude he plesen subtilly,
611. To yeve and lene him of his owne good,
612. And have a thank, and yet a cote and hood.
613. In youthe he lerned hadde a good mister;
614. He was a wel good wrighte, a carpenter.
615. This reve sat up-on a ful good stot,
616. That was al pomely grey, and highte Scot.
617. A long surcote of pers up-on he hade,
618. And by his syde he bar a rusty blade.
619. Of Northfolk was this reve, of which I telle,
620. Bisyde a toun men clepen Baldeswelle.
621. Tukked he was, as is a frere, aboute,
622. And ever he rood the hindreste of our route.
623. A Somnour was ther with us in that place, Somnour.
624. That hadde a fyr-reed cherubinnes face,
625. For sawcefleem he was, with eyen narwe.
626. As hoot he was, and lecherous, as a sparwe;
627. With scalled browes blake, and piled berd;
628. Of his visage children were aferd.
629. Ther nas quik-silver, litarge, ne brimstoon,
630. Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon,
631. Ne oynement that wolde dense and byte,
632. That him mighte helpen of his whelkes whyte,
633. Nor of the knobbes sittinge on his chekes.
634. Wel loved he garleek, oynons, and eek lekes,
635. And for to drinken strong wyn, reed as blood.
636. Thanne wolde he speke, and crye as he were wood.
637. And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn,
638. Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn.
639. A fewe termes hadde he, two or three,
640. That he had lerned out of som decree;
641. No wonder is, he herde it al the day;
642. And eek ye knowen wel, how that a Iay
643. Can clepen ‘Watte,’ as well as can the pope.
644. But who-so coude in other thing him grope,
645. Thanne hadde he spent al his philosophye;
646. Ay Questio quid iuris wolde he crye.
647. He was a gentil harlot and a kinde;
648. A bettre felawe sholde men noght finde.
649. He wolde suffre, for a quart of wyn,
650. A good felawe to have his concubyn
651. A twelf-month, and excuse him atte fulle:
652. Ful prively a finch eek coude he pulle.
653. And if he fond o-wher a good felawe,
654. He wolde techen him to have non awe,
655. In swich cas, of the erchedeknes curs,
656. But-if a mannes soule were in his purs;
657. For in his purs he sholde y-punisshed be.
658. ‘Purs is the erchedeknes helle,’ seyde he.
659. But wel I woot he lyed right in dede;
660. Of cursing oghte ech gilty man him drede—
661. For curs wol slee, right as assoilling saveth—
662. And also war him of a significavit.
663. In daunger hadde he at his owne gyse
664. The yonge girles of the diocyse,
665. And knew hir counseil, and was al hir reed.
666. A gerland hadde he set up-on his heed,
667. As greet as it were for an ale-stake;
668. A bokeler hadde he maad him of a cake.
669. With him ther rood a gentil Pardoner Pardoner.
670. Of Rouncival, his freend and his compeer,
671. That streight was comen fro the court of Rome.
672. Ful loude he song, ‘Com hider, love, to me.’
673. This somnour bar to him a stif burdoun,
674. Was never trompe of half so greet a soun.
675. This pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex,
676. But smothe it heng, as dooth a strike of flex;
677. By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde,
678. And ther-with he his shuldres overspradde;
679. But thinne it lay, by colpons oon and oon;
680. But hood, for Iolitee, ne wered he noon,
681. For it was trussed up in his walet.
682. Him thoughte, he rood al of the newe Iet;
683. Dischevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare.
684. Swiche glaringe eyen hadde he as an hare.
685. A vernicle hadde he sowed on his cappe.
686. His walet lay biforn him in his lappe,
687. Bret-ful of pardoun come from Rome al hoot.
688. A voys he hadde as smal as hath a goot.
689. No berd hadde he, ne never sholde have,
690. As smothe it was as it were late y-shave;
691. I trowe he were a gelding or a mare.
692. But of his craft, fro Berwik into Ware,
693. Ne was ther swich another pardoner.
694. For in his male he hadde a pilwe-beer,
695. Which that, he seyde, was our lady veyl:
696. He seyde, he hadde a gobet of the seyl
697. That sëynt Peter hadde, whan that he wente
698. Up-on the see, til Iesu Crist him hente.
699. He hadde a croys of latoun, ful of stones,
700. And in a glas he hadde pigges bones.
701. But with thise relikes, whan that he fond
702. A povre person dwelling up-on lond,
703. Up-on a day he gat him more moneye
704. Than that the person gat in monthes tweye.
705. And thus, with feyned flaterye and Iapes,
706. He made the person and the peple his apes.
707. But trewely to tellen, atte laste,
708. He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste.
709. Wel coude he rede a lessoun or a storie,
710. But alderbest he song an offertorie;
711. For wel he wiste, whan that song was songe,
712. He moste preche, and wel affyle his tonge,
713. To winne silver, as he ful wel coude;
714. Therefore he song so meriely and loude.
715. Now have I told you shortly, in a clause,
716. Thestat, tharray, the nombre, and eek the cause
717. Why that assembled was this companye
718. In Southwerk, at this gentil hostelrye,
719. That highte the Tabard, faste by the Belle.
720. But now is tyme to yow for to telle
721. How that we baren us that ilke night,
722. Whan we were in that hostelrye alight.
723. And after wol I telle of our viage,
724. And al the remenaunt of our pilgrimage.
725. But first I pray yow, of your curteisye,
726. That ye narette it nat my vileinye,
727. Thogh that I pleynly speke in this matere,
728. To telle yow hir wordes and hir chere;
729. Ne thogh I speke hir wordes properly.
730. For this ye knowen al-so wel as I,
731. Who-so shal telle a tale after a man,
732. He moot reherce, as ny as ever he can,
733. Everich a word, if it be in his charge,
734. Al speke he never so rudeliche and large;
735. Or elles he moot telle his tale untrewe,
736. Or feyne thing, or finde wordes newe.
737. He may nat spare, al-thogh he were his brother;
738. He moot as wel seye o word as another.
739. Crist spak him-self ful brode in holy writ,
740. And wel ye woot, no vileinye is it.
741. Eek Plato seith, who-so that can him rede,
742. The wordes mote be cosin to the dede.
743. Also I prey yow to foryeve it me,
744. Al have I nat set folk in hir degree
745. Here in this tale, as that they sholde stonde;
746. My wit is short, ye may wel understonde.
747. Greet chere made our hoste us everichon,
748. And to the soper sette he us anon;
749. And served us with vitaille at the beste.
750. Strong was the wyn, and wel to drinke us leste.
751. A semely man our hoste was with-alle
752. For to han been a marshal in an halle;
753. A large man he was with eyen stepe,
754. A fairer burgeys is ther noon in Chepe:
755. Bold of his speche, and wys, and wel y-taught,
756. And of manhod him lakkede right naught.
757. Eek therto he was right a mery man,
758. And after soper pleyen he bigan,
759. And spak of mirthe amonges othere thinges,
760. Whan that we hadde maad our rekeninges;
761. And seyde thus: ‘Now, lordinges, trewely,
762. Ye been to me right welcome hertely:
763. For by my trouthe, if that I shal nat lye,
764. I ne saugh this yeer so mery a companye
765. At ones in this herberwe as is now.
766. Fayn wolde I doon yow mirthe, wiste I how.
767. And of a mirthe I am right now bithoght,
768. To doon yow ese, and it shal coste noght.
769. Ye goon to Caunterbury; God yow spede,
770. The blisful martir quyte yow your mede.
771. And wel I woot, as ye goon by the weye,
772. Ye shapen yow to talen and to pleye;
773. For trewely, confort ne mirthe is noon
774. To ryde by the weye doumb as a stoon;
775. And therfore wol I maken yow disport,
776. As I seyde erst, and doon yow som confort.
777. And if yow lyketh alle, by oon assent,
778. Now for to stonden at my Iugement,
779. And for to werken as I shal yow seye,
780. To-morwe, whan ye ryden by the weye,
781. Now, by my fader soule, that is deed,
782. But ye be merye, I wol yeve yow myn heed.
783. Hold up your hond, withouten more speche.’
784. Our counseil was nat longe for to seche;
785. Us thoughte it was noght worth to make it wys,
786. And graunted him withouten more avys,
787. And bad him seye his verdit, as him leste.
788. ‘Lordinges,’ quod he, ‘now herkneth for the beste;
789. But tak it not, I prey yow, in desdeyn;
790. This is the poynt, to speken short and pleyn,
791. That ech of yow, to shorte with your weye,
792. In this viage, shal telle tales tweye,
793. To Caunterbury-ward, I mene it so,
794. And hom-ward he shal tellen othere two,
795. Of aventures that whylom han bifalle.
796. And which of yow that bereth him best of alle,
797. That is to seyn, that telleth in this cas
798. Tales of best sentence and most solas,
799. Shal have a soper at our aller cost
800. Here in this place, sitting by this post,
801. Whan that we come agayn fro Caunterbury.
802. And for to make yow the more mery,
803. I wol my-selven gladly with yow ryde,
804. Right at myn owne cost, and be your gyde.
805. And who-so wol my Iugement withseye
806. Shal paye al that we spenden by the weye.
807. And if ye vouche-sauf that it be so,
808. Tel me anon, with-outen wordes mo,
809. And I wol erly shape me therfore.’
810. This thing was graunted, and our othes swore
811. With ful glad herte, and preyden him also
812. That he wold vouche-sauf for to do so,
813. And that he wolde been our governour,
814. And of our tales Iuge and reportour,
815. And sette a soper at a certeyn prys;
816. And we wold reuled been at his devys,
817. In heigh and lowe; and thus, by oon assent,
818. We been acorded to his Iugement.
819. And ther-up-on the wyn was fet anon;
820. We dronken, and to reste wente echon,
821. With-outen any lenger taryinge.
822. A-morwe, whan that day bigan to springe,
823. Up roos our host, and was our aller cok,
824. And gadrede us togidre, alle in a flok,
825. And forth we riden, a litel more than pas,
826. Un-to the watering of seint Thomas.
827. And there our host bigan his hors areste,
828. And seyde; ‘Lordinges, herkneth, if yow leste.
829. Ye woot your forward, and I it yow recorde.
830. If even-song and morwe-song acorde,
831. Lat se now who shal telle the firste tale.
832. As ever mote I drinke wyn or ale,
833. Who-so be rebel to my Iugement
834. Shal paye for al that by the weye is spent.
835. Now draweth cut, er that we ferrer twinne;
836. He which that hath the shortest shal biginne.
837. Sire knight,’ quod he, ‘my maister and my lord,
838. Now draweth cut, for that is myn acord.
839. Cometh neer,’ quod he, ‘my lady prioresse;
840. And ye, sir clerk, lat be your shamfastnesse,
841. Ne studieth noght; ley hond to, every man.’
842. Anon to drawen every wight bigan,
843. And shortly for to tellen, as it was,
844. Were it by aventure, or sort, or cas,
845. The sothe is this, the cut fil to the knight,
846. Of which ful blythe and glad was every wight;
847. And telle he moste his tale, as was resoun,
848. By forward and by composicioun,
849. As ye han herd; what nedeth wordes mo?
850. And whan this gode man saugh it was so,
851. As he that wys was and obedient
852. To kepe his forward by his free assent,
853. He seyde: ‘Sin I shal biginne the game,
854. What, welcome be the cut, a Goddes name!
855. Now lat us ryde, and herkneth what I seye.’
856. And with that word we riden forth our weye;
857. And he bigan with right a mery chere
858. His tale anon, and seyde in this manere.

Here endeth the prolog of this book; and here biginneth the first tale, which is the Knightes Tale.

Here beginneth the Book of the Tales of Canterbury

 When that April with his showers soot
The drought of March hath pierced to the root,
And bathed every vein in such liquor,
Of which virtue engendered is the flower;
When Zephyrus eke with his sweet breath
Inspired hath in every holt and heath
The tender crops, and the young sun
Hath in the Ram his half course y-run,
And small fowls maken melody,
That sleepen all the night with open eye,
(So pricketh ’em nature in their courages):
Then longen folk to go on pilgrimages
(And palmers for to seeken strange strands)
To ferren hallows, couth in sundry lands;
And specially, from every shire’s end
Of England, to Canterbury they wend,
The holy blissful martyr for to seek,
That ’em hath holpen, when that they were sick.
  Befell that, in that season on a day,
In Southwark at the Tabard as I lay
Ready to wenden on my pilgrimage
To Canterbury with full devout courage,
At night was come into that hostelry
Well nine and twenty in a company,
Of sundry folk, by adventure y-fall
In fellowship, and pilgrims were they all,
That toward Canterbury woulden ride;
The chambers and the stables weren wide,
And well we weren eased at best.
And shortly, when the sun was to rest,
So had I spoken with ’em everich one,
That I was of their fellowship anon,
And made foreward early for to rise,
To take our way, there as I you devise.
  But natheless, while I have time and space,
Ere that I further in this tale pace,
Methinketh it accordant to reason,
To tell you all the condition
Of each of ’em, so as it seemed me,
And which they weren, and of what degree;
And eke in what array that they were in:
And at a knight then will I first begin.
  A KNIGHT there was, and that a worthy man,
That from the time that he first began
To riden out, he loved chivalry,
Truth and honour, freedom and courtesy.
Full worthy was he in his lord’s war,
And thereto had he ridden (no man far)
As well in Christendom as heatheness,
And ever honoured for his worthiness.
  At Alexandria he was, when it was won;
Full oft time he had the board begun
Aboven all nations in Prussia.
In Lettow had he reised and in Russia,
No Christian man so oft of his degree.
In Granada at the siege eke had he be 
Of Algezir, and ridden in Belmarie
At Ayaş was he, and at Satalie
When they were won, and in the Great Sea
At many a noble arrive had he be.
At mortal battles had he been fifteen,
And foughten for our faith at Tramissene
In lists thrice, and aye slain his foe.
This ilk worthy knight had been also
Sometime with the lord of Palatie,
Against another heathen in Turkey:
And evermore he had a sovereign prize.
And though that he were worthy, he was wise,
And of his port as meek as is a maid. 
He never yet no villainy ne said
In all his life, unto no manner wight.  
He was a very perfect gentil knight. 
But for to tellen you of his array,
His horse were good, but he was not gay.
Of fustian he weared a gipon
All besmottered with his habergeon;
For he was late y-come from his voyage,
And went for to do his pilgrimage.
  With him there was his son, a young SQUIRE,
A lover, and a lusty bachelor,
With locks crull, as they were laid in press.
Of twenty year of age he was, I guess.
Of his stature he was of even length,
And wonderfully deliver, and great of strength.
And he had been sometime in chivachy,
In Flanders, in Artois, and Picardy,
And born him well, as of so little space,
In hope to standen in his lady grace.
Embroidered was he, as it were a mead
All full of fresh flowers, white and red.
Singing he was, or fluting, all the day;
He was as fresh as is the month of May.
Short was his gown, with sleeves long and wide.
Well could he sit on horse, and fair ride.
He could songs make and well indite,
Joust and eke dance, and well portray and write,
So hot he loved, that by nightertale
He sleep no more than doth a nightingale.
Courteous he was, lowly, and serviceable,
And carved before his father at the table.
  A YEOMAN had he, and servants no mo’
At that time, for him list ride so;
And he was clad in coat and hood of green;
A sheaf of peacock arrows bright and keen
Under his belt he bear full thriftily;
(Well could he ’dress his tackle yeomanly:
His arrows drooped not with feathers low),
And in his hand he bear a mighty bow.
A knot head had he, with a brown visage.
Of woodcraft well could he all the usage.
Upon his arm he bear a gay bracer,
And by his side a sword and a buckler,
And on that other side a gay dagger,
Harnessed well, and sharp as point of spear; 
A Christopher on his breast of silver sheen.
An horn he bear, the baldric was of green;
A forester was he, soothly, as I guess.
  There was also a Nun, a PRIORESS,
That of her smiling was full simple and coy;
Her greatest oath was but by saint Loy
And she was cleped madam Eglentine.
Full well she sung the service divine,
Entuned in her nose full seemly;
And French she spake full fair and featously,
After the school of Stratford-at-Bow,
For French of Paris was to her unknown.
At meat well y-taught was she withal;
She let no morsel from her lips fall,
Ne wet her fingers in her sauce deep.
Well could she carry a morsel, and well keep,
That no drop ne fell upon her breast.
In courtesy was set full much her lest
Her over lip wiped she so clean,
That in her cup there was no farthing seen
Of grease, when she drunken had her draught.
Full seemly after her meat she raught,
And sickerly she was of great disport,
And full pleasant, and amiable of port,
And pained her to counterfeit cheer 
Of court, and be stately of manner,
And to be holden digne of reverence. 
But, for to speaken of her conscience,
She was so charitable and so piteous,
She would weep, if that she saw a mouse
Caught in a trap, if it were dead or bled.
Of small hounds had she, that she fed
With roasted flesh, or milk and wastel-bread
But sore wept she if one of ’em were dead,
Or if men smote it with a yard smart:
And all was conscience and tender heart.
Full seemly her wimple pinched was;
Her nose tretis; her eyen grey as glass;
Her mouth full small, and thereto soft and red;
But sickerly she had a fair forehead;
It was almost a span broad, I trow
For, hardily, she was not undergrow.
Full featous was her cloak, as I was ware.  
Of small coral about her arm she bear
A pair of beads, gauded all with green;  
And thereon hung a brooch of gold full sheen,
On which there was first writ a crowned A,
And after, Amor vincit omnia.  
  Another NUN with her had she,
That was her chaplain, and PRIESTS three.
  A MONK there was, a fair for the mastery,
An outrider, that loved venery;
A manly man, to been an abbot able.
Full many a dainty horse had he in stable:
And, when he rode, men might his bridle hear
Jinglen in a whistling wind as clear,
And eke as loud as doth the chapel bell,
There as this lord was keeper of the cell.
The rule of saint Maure or of saint Beneit,
By cause that it was old and somedeal strait,
This ilk monk let old things pass,
And held after the new world the space.
He gave not of that text a pulled hen,
That saith, that hunters be not holy men;
Ne that a monk, when he is cloisterless,
Is likened to a fish that is waterless;
This is to sayn, a monk out of his cloister
But thilk text held he not worth an oyster;
And I said his opinion was good.
What should he study, and make himselfen wood,
Upon a book in cloister alway to pour,
Or swinken with his hands, and labour, 
As Austin bid? How shall the world be served? 
Let Austin have his swink to him reserved.
Therefore he was a pricasour a-right; 
Greyhounds he had, as swift as fowl in flight;
Of pricking and of hunting for the hare
Was all his lust, for no cost would he spare.
saw his sleeves purfled at the hand  
With gris, and that the finest of a land; 
And, for to fasten his hood under his chin,
He had of gold y-wrought a curious pin:
love-knot in the greater end there was.  
His head was bald, that shone as any glass,
And eke his face, as he had been anoint.
He was a lord full fat and in good point;
His eyen stepe, and rolling in his head, 
That steamed as a furnace of a lead;
His boots supple, his horse in great state.
Now certainly he was a fair prelate
He was not pale as a forpined ghost.  
A fat swan loved he best of any roast.
His palfrey was as brown as is a berry.  
  A FRIAR there was, a wanton and a merry,
limiter, a full solemn man.
In all the orders four is none that can
So much of dalliance and fair language.
He had made full many a marriage
Of young women, at his own cost.
Unto his order he was a noble post.
Full well beloved and familiar was he
With franklins over-all in his country,
And eke with worthy women of the town: 
For he had power of confession,
As said himself, more than a curate,
For of his order he was a licentiate.
Full sweetly heard he confession,
And pleasant was his absolution;
He was an easy man to give penance
There as he wist to have a good pittance;  
For unto a povre order for to give  
Is sign that a man is well y-shrive.
For if he gave, he durst make a-vaunt,
He wist that a man was repentant.
For many a man so hard is of his heart,
He may not weep although him sore smart.
Therefore, instead of weeping and prayers,
Men mote give silver to the povre friars.
His tippet was aye farced full of knives
And pins, for to given fair wives.
And certainly he had a merry note;
Well could he sing and playen on a rote.
Of yeddings he bear utterly the prize. 
His neck white was as the fleur-de-lys;
Thereto he strong was as a champion.
He knew the taverns well in every town,
And everich hosteler and tapster
Bet than a lazar or a begster;
For unto such a worthy man as he
Accorded not, as by his faculty,
To have with sick lazars’ acquaintance.
It is not honest, it may not advance
For to dealen with no such porail,  
But all with rich and sellers of victual.
And over all, there as profit should arise,
Courteous he was, and lowly of service.
There nas no man nowhere so virtuous. 
He was the best beggar in his house;
[And gave a certain firm for the grant; 
None of his brethren came there in his haunt;]
For though a widow had not a shoe,
So pleasant was his ‘In principio’,
Yet would he have a farthing, ere he went.
His purchase was well better than his rent.
And rage he could, as it were right a whelp.
In love-days there could he much help.
For there he was not like a cloisterer,
With a threadbare cope, as is a povre scholar,  
But he was like a master or a pope.
Of double worsted was his semi-cope,  
That rounded as a bell out of the press.
Somewhat he lisped, for his wantonness,
To make his English sweet upon his tongue;
And in his harping, when that he had song,
His eyen twinkled in his head a-right,
As do the stars in the frosty night.
This worthy limiter was cleped Huberd.
  A MERCHANT was there with a forked beard,
In motley, and high on horse he sat,
Upon his head a Flandrish beaver hat; 
His boots clasped fair and featously
His reasons he spake full solemnly,
Sounding alway th’increase of his winning.
He would the sea were kept for any thing
Betwixt Middelburg and Orwell.
Well could he in exchange shields sell.
This worthy man full well his wit beset;
There wist no wight that he was in debt, 
So stately was he of his governance,
With his bargains, and with his chevisance.
For sooth he was a worthy man withal,
But sooth to sayn, I not how men him call.
  A CLERK there was of Oxford also,
That unto logic had long y-go.
As lean was his horse as is a rake,
And he nas not right fat, I undertake,
But looked hollow, and thereto soberly.  
Full threadbare was his overest courtepy
For he had gotten him yet no benefice,
Nor was so worldly as to have office.
For him would liefer have at his bed’s head
Twenty books, clad in black or red,
Of Aristotle and his philosophy,
Than robes rich, or fiddle, or gay psaltery. 
But all be that he was a philosopher,
Yet had he but little gold in coffer;
But all that he might of his friends hent
On books and on learning he it spent,
And busily ’gan for the souls pray
Of ’em that gave him wherewith to scholay.
Of study took he most cure and most heed.
Not one word spake he more than was need,
And that was said in form and reverence,
And short and quick, and full of high sentence.
Sounding in moral virtue was his speech,
And gladly would he learn, and gladly teach.
  A SERGEANT OF THE LAW, ware and wise, 
That often had been at the parvis,
There was also, full rich of excellence.
Discreet he was, and of great reverence:
He seemed such, his words weren so wise.  
Justice he was full often in assize,
By patent, and by plain commission;
For his science, and for his high renown
Of fees and robes had he many one.
So great a purchaser was nowhere none.
All was fee simple to him in effect,
His purchasing might not been infect.  
Nowhere so busy a man as he there nas,
And yet he seemed busier than he was.
In terms had he case and dooms all,
That from the time of king William were fall.
Thereto he could indite, and make a thing,
There could no wight pinch at his writing;
And every statute could he plain by rote.
He rode but homely in a medley coat  
Girt with a seynt of silk, with bars small; 
Of his array tell I no longer tale.
  A FRANKLIN was in his company; 
White was his beard, as is the daisy.
Of his complexion he was sanguine.
Well loved he by the morrow a sop in wine.  
To liven in delight was ever his wont,
For he was Epicurus own son,
That held opinion, that plain delight
Was verily felicity perfect.
An householder, and that a great, was he;
Saint Julian he was in his country.
His bread, his ale, was alway after one;
A better envined man was nowhere none. 
Without bake meat was never his house,
Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous,
It snowed in his house of meat and drink;
Of all dainties that men could think.
After the sundry seasons of the year,  
So changed he his meat and his supper.
Full many a fat partridge had he in mew,
And many a bream and many a luce in stew
Woe was his cook, but if his sauce were
Poignant and sharp, and ready all his gear.
His table dormant in his hall alway
Stood ready covered all the long day.
At sessions there was he lord and sire;
Full oft time he was knight of the shire.
An anlace and a gipser all of silk 
Hung at his girdle, white as morn milk.
A sheriff had he been, and a countor;
Was nowhere such a worthy vavasour.
  An HABERDASHER and a CARPENTER,
WEB, a DYER, and a TAPICER,  
Were with us eke, clothed in one livery, 
Of a solemn and great fraternity.
Full fresh and new their gear a-picked was;
Their knives were y-capped not with brass,
But all with silver, wrought full clean and well,
Their girdles and their pouches every deal.
Well seemed each of ’em a fair burgess,
To sitten in a guildhall on a dais.  
Everich, for the wisdom that he can, 
Was shapely for to be an alderman.
For chattel had they enough and rent,
And eke their wives would it well assent;
And else certain were they to blame.
It is full fair to be y-clept ‘ma dame,’
And go to vigils all before,
And have a mantle royally y-bore.
  A COOK they had with ’em for the nones,
To boil the chickens with the marrow bones,
And powder-merchant tart, and galingale. 
Well could he know a draught of London ale.
He could roast, and seethe, and broil, and fry,
Maketh mortress, and well bake a pie. 
But great harm was it, as it thought me,
That on his shin a mormal had he; 
For blancmange, that made he with the best.
  A SHIPMAN was there, woning far by west: 
For aught I wot, he was of Dartmouth. 
He rode upon a rouncy, as he couth,
In a gown of falding to the knee. 
A dagger hanging on a lace had he
About his neck under his arm a-down.
The hot summer had made his hue all brown;
And, certainly, he was a good fellow
Full many a draught of wine had he y-drew
From Bordeaux-ward, while that the chapman sleep.
Of nice conscience took he no keep.
If that he fought, and had the higher hand,
By water he sent ’em home to every land.
But of his craft to reckon well his tides,
His streams and his dangers him besides,
His harbour and his moon, his lode-manage,
There nas none such from Hull to Carthage.
Hardy he was, and wise to undertake;
With many a tempest had his beard been shake.
He knew well all the havens, as they were,
From Gotland to the cape of Finisterre,
And every creek in Britain and in Spain;
His barge y-clept was the Maudelaine.
  With us there was a DOCTOR OF PHYSIC;
In all this world ne was there none him like
To speak of physic and of surgery;
For he was grounded in astronomy.
He kept his patient a full great deal
In hours, by his magic natural.
Well could he fortunen the ascendant
Of his images for his patient.
He knew the cause of everich malady,
Were it of hot or cold, or moist, or dry,
And where engendered, and of what humour;
He was a very perfect practiser. 
The cause y-know, and of his harm the root,
Anon he gave the sick man his boot
Full ready had he his apothecaries,
To send him drugs and his ’lectuaries,
For each of ’em made other for to win;
Their friendship nas not new to begin. 
Well knew he the old Asclepius,
And Dioscorides, and eke Rufus, 
Old Hippocrates, Haly, and Galen,
Serapion, Razi, and Avicen
Averroes, Damascene, and Constantine; 
Bernard, and Gaddesden, and Gilbertin.
Of his diet measurable was he,
For it was of no superfluity,
But of great nourishing and digestible.
His study was but little on the Bible.
In sanguine and in perse he clad was all, 
Lined with taffeta and with sendal;  
And yet he was but easy of dispense;
He kept that he won in pestilence.
For gold in physic is a cordial,
Therefore he loved gold in special.
  A good WIFE was there of beside BATH,
But she was somedeal deaf, and that was scathe
Of cloth-making she had such an haunt,
She passed ’em of Ypres and of Gaunt.
In all the parish wife ne was there none
That to the offering before her should gon
And if there did, certain, so wroth was she,
That she was out of all charity.
Her coverchiefs full fine were of ground;
durst swear they weigheden ten pound
That on a 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 life,
Husbands at church door she had five,
Withouten other company in youth;
But thereof needeth not to speak as nowthe.  
And thrice had she been at Jerusalem;
She had passed many a strange stream;
At Rome she had been, and at Boulogne,
In Galicia at Saint-Jame, and at Cologne.  
She could much of wandering 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;  
foot-mantle about her hips large,
And on her feet a pair of spurs sharp.
In fellowship well could she laugh and carp.  
Of remedies of love she knew perchance,
For she could of that art the old dance.
  A good man was there of religion,
And was a povre PARSON of a town, 
But rich he was of holy thought and work.
He was also a learned man, a clerk,
That Christ’s gospel truly would preach;
His parishioners devoutly would he teach.
Benign he was, and wonder diligent,
And in adversity full patient;
And such he was y-proved oft sithes
Full loath were him to cursen for his tithes,
But rather would he given, out of doubt,
Unto his povre parishioners about
Of his offering, and eke of his substance. 
He could in little thing have sufficience.
Wide was his parish, and houses far asunder,
But he ne left not, for rain ne thunder,
In sickness nor in mischief, to visit 
The farthest in his parish, much and lite,
Upon his feet, and in his hand a staff.
This noble example to his sheep he gave,
That first he wrought, and afterwards he taught;
Out of the gospel he tho’ words caught; 
And this figure he added eke thereto,
That if gold rust, what shall iron do?
For if a priest be foul, on whom we trust,
No wonder is a lewd man to rust;
And shame it is, if a priest take keep,
A shitten shepherd and a clean sheep.
Well ought a priest example for to give,
By his cleanness, how that his sheep should live.
He set not his benefice to hire,
And let his sheep encumbered in the mire,
And ran to London, unto Saint Paul’s,
To seeken him a chantry for souls,
Or with a brotherhood to be withheld;
But dwelt at home, and kept well his fold,
So that the wolf ne made it not miscarry;
He was a shepherd and no mercenary.
And though he holy were, and virtuous,
He was to sinful men not despitous,
Ne of his speech dangerous ne digne,
But in his teaching discreet and benign.
To drawen folk to heaven by fairness
By good example, was his business:
But it were any person obstinate,
What so he were, of high or low estate,
Him would he snibben sharply for the nones.
A better priest, I trow that nowhere none is. 
He waited after no pomp and reverence,
Ne maked him a spiced conscience,
But Christ’s lore, and his apostles twelve,
He taught, and first he followed it himself.
  With him there was a PLOUGHMAN, was his brother,
That had y-led of dung full many a fother,
A true swinker and a good was he, 
Living in peace and perfect charity.
God loved he best with all his whole heart
At all times, though him gamed or smart,
And then his neighbour right as himself.
He would thresh, and thereto dike and delve,
For Christ’s sake, for every povre wight
Withouten hire, if it lay in his might.
His tithes paid he full fair and well,
Both of his proper swink and his chattel
In a tabard he rode upon a mare. 
  There was also a Reeve and a Miller,
Summoner and a Pardoner also,
Manciple, and myself, there were no mo’.
  The MILLER was a stout carl, for the nones,
Full big he was of brawn, and eke of bones;
That proved well, for over all there he came,
At wrestling he would have alway the ram.
He was short shouldered, broad, a thick knar;
There nas no door that he nould heave of harre
Or break it, at a-running, with his head.
His beard as any sow or fox was red,
And thereto broad, as though it were a spade.
Upon the cop right of his nose he had
A wart, and thereon stood a tuft of hairs,
Red as the bristles of a sow’s ears;
His nostrils black were and wide.
A sword and buckler bear he by his side;
His mouth as great was as a great furnace.
He was a jangler and a goliardeys
And that was most of sin and harlotries.
Well could he stealen corn, and tollen thrice;
And yet he had a thumb of gold, pardee.
A white coat and a blue hood weared he.
A bagpipe well could he blow and soun’,
And therewithal he brought us out of town.
  A gentil MANCIPLE was there of a temple, 
Of which acaters might take example 
For to be wise in buying of victual.
For whether he paid, or took by tail,
Algate he waited so in his acate
He was aye beforn and in good state.
Now is not that of God a full fair grace,
That such a lewd man’s wit shall pace
The wisdom of an heap of learned men?
Of masters had he mo’ than thrice ten,
That were of law expert and curious;
Of which there were a dozen in that house,
Worthy to be stewards of rent and land
Of any lord that is in England,
To make him live by his proper good,
In honour debtless, but he were wood,
Or live as scarcely as him list desire;
And able for to helpen all a shire
In any case that might fall or hap;
And yet this manciple set their aller cap
  The REEVE was a slender choleric man,
His beard was shave as nigh as ever he can.
His hair was by his ears round y-shorn.
His top was docked like a priest beforn.
Full long were his legs, and full lean,
Y-like a staff, there was no calf y-seen.
Well could he keep a garner and a bin;
There was no auditor could on him win.
Well wist he, by the drought, and by the rain,
The yielding of his seed, and of his grain.
His lord’s sheep, his neat, his dairy, 
His swine, his horse, his store, and his poultry,
Was holy in this reeve’s governing,
And by his covenant gave the reckoning,
Since that his lord was twenty year of age;
There could no man bring him in arrearage.
There nas bailiff, ne herd, ne other hind,
That he ne knew his sleight and his covin
They were a-dread of him, as of the death.
His woning was full fair upon an heath, 
With green trees shadowed was his place.
He could better than his lord purchase.
Full rich he was a-stored privily,
His lord well could he pleasen subtly,
To give and lend him of his own good,
And have a thank, and yet a coat and hood.
In youth he learned had a good mister;
He was a well good wright, a carpenter.
This reeve sat upon a full good stot,
That was all pommely grey, and hight Scot. 
A long surcoat of perse upon he had,  
And by his side he bear a rusty blade.
Of Norfolk was this reeve, of which I tell,
Beside a town men clepen Bawdeswell. 
Tucked he was as is a friar, about,
And ever he rode the hinderest of our rout.
  A SUMMONER was there with us in that place,
That had a fire-red cherubin’s face,
For saucefleme he was, with eyen narrow
As hot he was, and lecherous, as a sparrow;
With scalled brows black, and peeled beard;
Of his visage children were a-feared.
There nas quicksilver, litharge, ne brimstone,
Borax, ceruse, ne oil of tartar none,
Ne ointment that would cleanse and bite,
That him might helpen of his whelks white,
Nor of the knobs sitting on his cheeks.
Well loved he garlic, onions, and eke leeks,
And for to drinken strong wine, red as blood.
Then would he speak, and cry as he were wood
And when that he well drunken had the wine,
Then would he speak no word but Latin.
A few terms had he, two or three,
That he had learned out of some decree;
No wonder is, he heard it all the day;
And eke you knowen well, how that a jay
Can clepen “Watte,” as well as can the pope. 
But whoso could in other thing him grope,
Then had he spent all his philosophy;
Aye “Questio quid iuris” would he cry. 
He was a gentil harlot and a kind; 
A better fellow should men not find. 
He would suffer, for a quart of wine,
A good fellow to have his concubine
A twelve month, and excuse him at full:
Full privily a finch eke could he pull.
And if he found a’where a good fellow,
He would teachen him to have no awe,
In such case, of the archdeacon’s curse,
But if a man’s soul were in his purse;
For in his purse he should y-punished be.
“Purse is the archdeacon’s hell,” said he.
But well I wot he lied right in deed; 
Of cursing ought each guilty man him dread
For curse will slay, right as absoiling saveth – 
And also ware him of a significavit
In danger had he at his own guise  
The young girls of the diocese,
And knew their counsel, and was all their rede.
A garland had he set upon his head,
As great as it were for an ale-stake;
buckler had he made him of a cake
  With him there rode a gentil PARDONER 
Of Rouncival, his friend and his compeer, 
That straight was comen from the court of Rome.
Full loud he sung “Come hither, love, to me.”
This Summoner bear to him a stiff bourdon,
Was never trump of half so great a sound.
This Pardoner had hair as yellow as wax,
But smooth it hung, as doth a strike of flax;
By ounces hung his locks that he had, 
And therewith he his shoulders overspread;
But thin it lay, by culpons one and one;  
But hood, for jollity, ne weared he none, 
For it was trussed up in his wallet.
Him thought, he rode all of the new jet
Dishevelledly, save his cap, he rode all bare.
Such glaring eyen had he as an hare.
vernicle had he sewed on his cap.  
His wallet lay before him in his lap,
Brimful of pardon come from Rome all hot.
A voice he had as small as hath a goat.
No beard had he, ne never should have,
As smooth it was as it were late y-shave;
trow he were a gelding or a mare.
But of his craft, from Berwick into Ware
Ne was there such another pardoner.
For in his mail he had a pillow-bear,
Which that he said was our lady’s veil:
He said, he had a gobet of the sail
That saint Peter had, when that he went
Upon the sea, till Jesus Christ him hent
He had a cross of latten, full of stones,
And in a glass he had pigs’ bones.
But with these relics, when that he found
povre parson dwelling upon land,
Upon a day he gat him more money
Than that the parson gat in months tway
And thus, with feigned flattery and japes,
He made the parson and the people his apes.
But truly to tellen, at last,
He was in church a noble ecclesiast.
Well could he read a lesson or a story,
But all the best he sung an offertory;
For well he wist, when that song was sung, 
He must preach, and well affile his tongue, 
To win silver, as he full well could;
Therefore he sung so merrily and loud.
  Now have I told you shortly, in a clause,
Th’estate, th’array, the number, and eke the cause 
Why that assembled was this company
At Southwark, at this gentil hostelry, 
That hight the Tabardfast by the Bell. 
But now is time to you for to tell
How that we bearen us that ilk night,
When we were in that hostelry alight.
And after will I tell you of our voyage,
And all the remnant of our pilgrimage.
But first I pray you, of your courtesy,
That you ne rate it not my villainy,
Though that I plainly speak in this matter,
To tell you their words and their cheer;
Ne though I speak their words properly.
For this ye knowen all so well as I,
Whoso shall tell a tale after a man,
He mote rehearse, as nigh as ever he can, 
Everich a word, if it be in his charge, 
All spake he never so rudely and large;
Or else he mote tell his tale untrue,
Or feign thing, or find words new.
He may not spare, although he were his brother;
He mote as well say one word as another.
Christ spake himself full broad in holy writ,
And well ye wot, no villainy is it.
Eke Plato saith, whoso that can him read,
The words mote be cousin to the deed.
Also I pray you to forgive it me,
All have I not set folk in their degree
Here in this tale, as that they should stand;
My wit is short, you may well understand. 
  Great cheer made our host us everich one, 
And to the supper set he us anon;
And served us with victual at the best.
Strong was the wine, and well to drink us lest.
A seemly man our host was with all
For to have been a marshal in an hall;
A large man he was with eyen stepe,
A fairer burgess was there none in Cheap:  
Bold of his speech, and wise, and well y-taught,
And of manhood him lacked right naught.
Eke thereto he was right a merry man, 
And after supper playen he began,
And spake of mirth among other things,
When that he had made our reckonings;
And said thus: “Now, lordings, truly,
You be to me right welcome heartily:
For by my truth, if that I shall not lie,
I ne saw this year so merry a company
At once in this harbour as is now. 
Fain would I do you mirth, wist I how.
And of a mirth I am right now bethought,
To do you ease, and it shall cost naught.
  Ye go to Canterbury; God you speed,
The blissful martyr quite you your meed.
And well I wot, as you go by the way,
Ye shapen you to talen and to play;
For truly, comfort ne mirth is none
To ride by the way dumb as a stone;
And therefore will I maken you disport,
As I said erst, and do you some comfort.
And if you liketh all, by one assent,
Now for to standen at my judgement,
And for to worken as I shall you say,
Tomorrow, when ye riden by the way,
Now, by my father’s soul, that is dead,
But ye be merry, I will give you mine heed.
Hold up your hand, withouten more speech.”
  Our counsel was not long for to search;
Us thought it was not worth to make it wise,
And granted him withouten more advise,
And bade him say his verdict, as him lest.
  “Lordings,” quoth he, “now harkneth for the best;
But take it not, I pray you, in disdain;
This is the point, to speaken short and plain,
That each of you, to short with your way,
In this voyage, shall tell tales tway,
To Canterbury-ward, I mean it so,
And homeward he shall tellen other two,
Of adventures that whilom have befall.
And which of you that beareth him best of all,
That is to sayn, that telleth in this case
Tales of best sentence and most solace,
Shall have a supper at our aller cost
Here in this place, sitting by this post,
When that we come again from Canterbury.
And for to make you the more merry,
I will myselfen gladly with you ride,
Right at mine own cost, and be your guide.
And whoso will my judgement withsay
Shall pay all that we spenden by the way.
And if you vouchsafe that it be so,
Tell me anon, withouten words mo’,
And I will early shape me therefore.”
  This thing was granted, and our oaths swore
With full glad heart, and prayeden him also
That he would vouchsafe for to do so,
And that he would be our governor,
And of our tales judge and reporter,
And set a supper at a certain price;
And we would ruled be at his devise,
In high and low; and thus, by one assent,
We been accorded to his judgement.
And thereupon the wine was fetched anon;
We drunken, and to rest went each one,
Withouten any longer tarrying.
  A-morrow, when that day began to spring, 
Up rose our host, and was our aller cock,
And gathered us together, all in a flock,
And forth we riden, a little more than pace,
Unto the watering of saint Thomas;  
And there our host began his horse arrest,
And said, “Lordings, harkneth, if you lest.
Ye wot your foreward, and I it you record. 
If even song and morrow song accord,
Let see now who shall tell the first tale.
As ever mote I drink wine or ale,
Whoso be rebel to my judgement,
Shall pay for all that by the way is spent.
Now draweth cut, ere that we farther twin
He which hath the shortest shall begin.
Sire knight” quoth he, “my master and my lord,
Now draweth cut, for that is mine accord.
Cometh near,” quoth he, “my lady prioress;
And ye, sir clerk, let be your shamefastness,
Ne studieth not, lay hand to, every man.”
  Anon to drawen every wight began,
And shortly for to tellen, as it was,
Were it adventure, or sort, or case, 
The sooth is this, the cut fell to the knight,
Of which full blithe and glad was every wight
And tell he must his tale, as was reason,
By foreward and by composition, 
As ye have heard; what needeth words mo’?
And when this good man saw that it was so,
As he that wise was and obedient
To keep his foreward by his free assent,
He said, “Since I shall begin the game,
What, welcome be the cut, in God’s name!
Now let us ride, and harkneth what I say.”
  And with that word we riden forth our way;
And he began with right a merry cheer
His tale anon, and said in this manner.

Here endeth the prologue of this book; and here beginneth the first tale, which is the Knight’s Tale.