Cx1 · London, British Library 167.c.26, IB. 55009 (the Royal Copy)
Canterbury Tales Project.
talesofcanterbury.org/GP/xml/transcripts/Cx1/
[2r]
WHan that Apprill with his shouris sote
And the droughte of marche hath ꝑpercid þᵉ rote
And badid euery veyne in suche licour
Of whiche vertu engendrid is the flour
Whanne zepherus eke with his sote breth
Enspirid hath in euery holte and heth
The tendir croppis / and the yong sonne
Hath in the ram half his cours y ronne
And smale foulis make melodie
That slepyn al nyght with opyn ye
So prikith hem nature in her corage
Than longyng folk to gon on pilgremage
And palmers to seche straunge londis
To serue halowis couthe in sondry londis
And specially fro euery shiris ende
Of yngelond to Cauntirbury thy wende
The holy blisful martir forto seke
That them hath holpyn when they were seke
ANd fil in that seson on a day
In Suthwerk atte tabard as I lay
Redy to wende on my pilgremage
To Cauntirbury with deuout corage
That nyght was come in to that hosterye
Wel nyne ⁊and twenty in a companye
Of sondry folk be auenture y falle
In feleship as pilgrymys were they alle
That toward Cauntirbury wolden ryde
The chambris and the stablis were wyde
And wel were they esid atte beste
And shortly whan the sonne was at reste
So had I spokyn with hem euerichon̄
That I was of hir feleship anon̄
And made forward erly forto ryse
To take our wey there as I you deuyse
But natheles whiles that y haue tyme ⁊and space
Or that y ferthir in this tale pace
Me thynketh that it were accordaunt to reson
To telle you al the condicion
Of eche of hem so as it semed me
And whiche they were and of what degre
And in what aray eke they weren ynne
ANd at a knyght I wil begynne
A knyght ther was a worthy man
That fro the tyme he first began
To riden out he loued chyualrye
Trouthe and honour fredom and curtesye
Ful worthy he was in his lordis werre
And therto hadde he riden noman ferre
And as wel in cristendom as in hethenesse
And euer hadde honour for his worthynesse
At alisaundre he was whan it was wonne
Ful ofte tyme he had the boord begonne
Abouen alle nacions in pruce
In lettowe hadde he reysed and in Ruse
No cristen man so eften tymes as he
In granade at the sege eke hadde he be
In algrith hadde he riden and in belmarie
At cartage was he and eke at satalye
Whanne they were wonne and in the grete see
At many at nobil aryue hadde be he
At mortal bataillis had he be fiftene
And foughte for oure feith at Tramyssene
In listis thries and hath sleyn his foo
This ilke worthy knyght hadde be also
Som tyme with the lord of Palathie
Agayn another hethen man in Turkye
And euermore he hadde a souerayn price
And though he was worthy he was wise
And of his port as meke as a mayde
He neuer yet vilayns worde sayde
In al his lif to nomaner wight
He was a gentil parfight knyght
Forto telle you of his aray
His hors were gode but he was not gay
Of fustian he wered a gippioun
Al be smered with his habergeoıı̄un
For he was late come fro his viage
And sente forto do his pilgremage
WIth hym ther was a semely yong squyer
A louer and a lusti bacheler
With lockis crulle as they were leyd in presse
Of twenty yer of age he was I gesse
Of his stature he was of euene lenghte
And wonderly deliuer ⁊and greet of strenghte
And he had be som tyme in chyualrye
In Flaundris in Artoise and in Picardye
And born hym wel as of a litil space
In hope to stonden in his ladies grace
Enbrowded was he as it were a mede
Al ful of fressh flouris white and rede
Syngynge he was or floytynge al day
He was as fressh as is the moneth of may
Short was his gowne with sleuys longe ⁊and wyde
Wel couthe he sitte on hors ⁊and therto fair ryde
He couthe song make and wel endyte
Iuste and daunce portreye and eke wryte
So hote he loued that be nyghtertale
He slepte nomore than a nyghtyngale
Curteys he was lowly and seruisabyl
He carf beforn̄ his fader at the tabyl
A Yeman hadde he and seruauntis nomo
At that tyme for he list to ryde so
And he was cled in cote and hood of grene
A sheef of arowes bright and shene
Vnder his belt he baar ful thriftely
Wel coude he dresse his takyl yomanly
His arowis drouped not with fetheris lowe
And in his hond he baar a mighty bowe
A not hed he hadde with a broun visage
Of wodemannes craft coude he al the vsage
Op on his arme he bare agay bracer
And by his side a swerd and a bokeler
And on that other side a gay daggare
Harneysed wel and sharp as poynt of spere
A Cristofir on his brest ful shene
An horn he baar the bawdryk grene
A forster was he sothly as I gesse
THere was also a nonne a prioresse
That of hir smylynge was simpil ⁊and koy
Here grettest oth was be seynt loy
And she was clepid dame Eglentyn̄e
Ful wel she song seruise diuine
Entoyned in hir voys ful semely
And frensh she spak ful fetously
Aftir the scole of stratforde at the bowe
For frensh of Paris was to hir vnknowe
At mete wel taught was she with al
She lete no morsel fro hir lippis fal
Ne wete hire fingres in hir sauce depe
Wel coude she cary a morsel of mete
That no drope fil on hir brest
In curtesie was set ful mykil hir lest
Hir ouerlippe wiped she so clene
That in hir cup ther was no ferthyng sene
Of grece whan she hadde dronke her draught
Ful semely aftir hir mete she raught
And sikirly she was of greet disport
Of plesaunce and amyable of port
And peyned here to countrefete chiere
Of courte to be statly of manere
And to be holde digne of reuerence
But forto speke of hir conscience
She was so charitable and so pietous
She wolde wepe and she saw a mous
Kawght in a trappe if it were deed or bledde
Of smale houndis hadde she that she fedde
With rost flesh mylke and wastel bred
But sore wepte she if ony of hem were ded
Or if men smoot hem with yerd smert
And al was conscience and tendir hert
Ful semely hir wympil pynched was
Her nose tretise here yen grey as glas
Her mouth smal and therto softe and reed
But sikirly she hadde a fair forheed
It was almost a span brode I trow
For hardly she was not vnder grow
Ful fetice was her cloke as I was waar
Of smal coral aboute her harm she baar
A peyre of bedis gauded al with grene
And there on houg a broche ful shene
On whiche that first was wryte a crouned A
And aftir that amor vincit omnia
ANother Nonne with hir ther was
Ful fair of hewe and bright of faas
That was her chapeleyn and prestis thre
A monk ther was fair for the maistre
Whiche afore that tyme hadde be
An out ryder he loued venore
A manly man to be an abbot able
Ful many a deynte hors hadde he in stabil
And when he rood men mighte his bridil here
Gyngelynge ⁊and whistelinge in the wynd clere
And eke as lowde as doth the chapel belle
There as the lord was keper of the selle
The rewle of saint Maure ⁊and of saint Benet
Be cause he held it somwhat streyt
This ilke monk lete olde thinges passe
And held aftir the newe worlde the space
He yaf not of the text a pullet henne
That seith that hunters be not holy men
Ne that a monk whenne that he is rechelees
Is lik to a fish when it is waterlees
This is to say a monk oute of a cloistre
But that texte holde I not worth an oistre
And I say that his opinion̄ was good
What sholde he stodye and make hym wood
Vp on a book alwey in cloistir to powre
Or swynke with hondis and laboure
As austyn dide . but hou shal the worlde be serued
Let austyn haue his swynk to hym reserued
Therfore he was a pricasour a right
Grehoundis he hadde as mylk whit
Of prykynge and of huntynge for the hare
Was al his lust for no thing wolde he spare
I saw his sleuys purfiled at the hond
With grice and that the fynest of a lond
And forto fastyn his hood vnder the chynne
He hadde of golde wrought a corious pynne
And eke his face as he had be anoynt
He was a lord fat and in good poynt
His yen steep and rollynge in his heed
That stemyd as a furneys of leed
His bootis sowpil his hors in gret astate
Now certenly he was a feir prelate
He was not pale as a forpyned gost
A fat swan loued he best of ony rost
His palfrey was as broun as a bery
A Frere ther was awanton̄ ⁊and a mery
A lymytour and a ful solemne man
In alle the ordris four is non that so wel can
So moche of daliaunce and fair langage
He hadde made meny a fair mariage
Of yonge wommen at his owen cost
Vntil his ordre he was an nobil post
Ful welbeloued and ful famulier was he
With frankeleyns ouer al in his contre
And with worthy yemen of the toun
For he hadde power of confession
And plesaunt was his absolucion
To them that had grete contricion
And sayde hym self more than a curat
And of his ordre he was licenciat
And an esi man to yeue penaunce
There he wiste to haue good pitaunce
Vnto a poure ordre forto yeue
Whan that a man is wel I shryue
Yf he yaf he durste make a vaunt
Yf that a man was repentaunt
Many a man so hard is of herte
He may not wepe though he sore smerte
Therfore in stede of wepynge and praiers
Men moste yeue siluer to the poure freris
His tipet was I fossid ful of knyuys
And with pynnys to yeue faire wyuys
And certeyn he hadde amery note
Merily coude he synge and pleye at the rote
Of tidyngis he baar vtterly the pryce
Milk whit he was as the flour delyce
Therto strong he was as a champioun
And knew the tauernys wel in euery toun
And euery osteler and tapstere
Better than̄ a lazer or a beggestere
Forto vnto suche a man as he
Accordith not as by his faculte
To haue of suche sike lazers acqueyntaunce
It is not honest it may not a vaunce
Forto dele with suche poraille
But with riche and sellers of vitaille
And ouer al there as richesse sholde aryse
Curteis he was and lowly of seruise
Ther was no man nowhere so vertuous
He was the beste beggere in his hous
For though a wydowe hadde not a shoo
So plesaunt was his in principio
Yet wolde he haue a ferthing or he went
His purchace was bettir than̄ his rent
And barke he couthe as it were a whelpe
In louedayes there coude he mykyl help
For there he nas lik a cloisterer
With a threedbare cope as a poure frere
But he was like a maister or a pope
Of dubbyl worstede was his semy cope
That round was as a belle out of presse
Somwhat he lispyd for his wantownesse
To make his english swete vp on his tunge
And in his harpynge whan he had I sunge
His yen̄ twynklyd in his hed a right
As doon the sterris in the frosty nyght
This worthy frere was callyd hubberd
A Marchaunt ther was with a forkid berd
In motley on high on his hors he sat
Vp on his hed a flaundres beuer hat
His bootis claspid feire and fetously
His resons he spak ful solempnely
Shewynge alwey the encrece of his wynnynge
He wolde the see were kept for ony thynge
Betwixt Middelburgh and Orewelle
Well coude he in his eschaunges selle
This worthy man his witte ful wel besette
Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette
So estatly was he of gouernaunce
With his bargayns and with his cheuesaunce
For sothe he was a worthy man with alle
But soth to say I not how men hym calle
A Clerk ther was of Oxenforde also
That vnto logik hadde longe I go
As lene was his hors as a rake
And he was not right fat I vndertake
But lokyd holow and therto sobirly
Ful threedbare was his ouerest courtby
For he hadde gote hym yet no benefice
Ne was not wordly to haue an office
For hym was leuyr to haue at his beddis hed
Twenty bokys I clad in whit and reed
Of Aristotle and of philosophie
Thanne Robis riche or fidil or sawtrie
But al be that he was a philosophre
Yet hadde he but litil gold in cofre
But al that he mighte of his frendis haue help
On bokis and on lernynge he it spent
And besely gan for the soulis praye
Of hem that yaf hym wherwith to scolaye
Of study took he most cure and hede
Not o word spak he more than nede
Short and quyk and high of sentence
Sownyng moral vertu was his prudence
And gladly wolde he lerne and gladly teche
And ther with ful softe was his speche
A Sergeante of lawe waar and wise
Was there that ofte hadde be at the ꝑperuyse
That was also riche of excellence
Discrete he was and of gret reuerence
He semyd suche his wordis were so wise
Iustice he was ful ofte in assise
Be patent and be playn commission
For his science and his high renoun
Of fees and Robis hadde he many on
So gret a purchasour was ther nowher non
Al was fee symple to hym in effect
His purchace mighte not be to hym suspect
No where so besy aman as he ther was
And yet he semyd besier than he was
In teermes hadde he caas ⁊and domes alle
That fro the tyme of kyng william were falle
Therto he coude endite and make a thing
Ther coude no wight pynche at his writing
And euery statut coude he pleyn be rote
He rood but homely in a medle cote
I girt with a seynt of silk with barris smale
Of his aray telle I no lenger tale
A Frankeleyn was in his companye
White was his berd as the deysie
And of his complexion was sanguyn
Wel loued he be the morow a cup wyn
To lyue in delite was euer his wone
For he was Epicuriees owen sone
That held oppinion that pleyn delite
Was verray felicite parfite
An housholder and that a gret was he
Saynt Iulian he was in his contre
His breed his ale was alwey aftir one
A bettir vyned man was nowher none
Withoute bake mete was he neuer in his hous
His fissh his flessh and that so plentuous
It shewde in his hous of mete and drynke
Of alle deyntees that men couthe thynke
Aftir the sundry seson of the yeer
So chaunged he his mete and his soper
Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in mewe
And meny a brem and luce in stewe
Wo was his cook but his sawce were
Poynant and sharp and redy al his geer
His tabil dormaunt in his halle alway
Was redy couered al the longe day
At sessions ther was he lord and sire
Ful ofte tyme he was knyght of the shire
A lace and a gipser of silk
Hyng at his girdil as white as morow mylk
A shereue hadde he be and a coronour
Was nowhere suche a worthy vauesour
AN habirdassher ther was and acarpenter
A webbe a dyer and a tapiser
And they where clothed alle in o lyuere
Of a solempne and a greet fraternite
Ful fressh and newe her geer piked was
Here knyuys chapid were not with bras
But al with siluer wrought ful clene ⁊and wel
Here girdelis and hir powchis eueridel
Wel semed eche of hem a fair burgeis
To sitten in the yeld halle at the deys
Enerich for the wisedom that he can
Was happely forto be an aldirman
For cateill hadde they ynow and rent
And here wyuys wolde it wel assent
And ellis certayn they were to blame
Hit is ful fair to be callyd madame
And go to vigillis al before
And haue a mantel rially I bore
A Cook they hadde with hem for the nonys
To boylle the chekens ⁊and the mary bonys
And powder marchaunt tart and galingale
Wel knew he a draughte of london ale
He coude roste sethe boyle and frye
Make mortrewys and wel bake a pye
But gret harm was it as it thoughte me
For on his chynne a Marmoyl hadde he
And blank Manger made he with the best
A Shipman was ther that woned fer be west
For ought I woot he was of dertemouth
He rood vp a rowncy as he cowth
In a gowne foldynge to the kne
A daggar and a lace hangynge had he
Aboute his necke vnder his arm adoun
The hote somer hadde made his hewe al broun
And certaynly he was a good felawe
Ful many a draughte wyn he hadde drawe
Fro burdeux ward whyle the chapman sleep
Of conscience took he no keep
At ful many abataylle in that lond
He faught and hadde the higher hond
But of his craft to reken wel his tyde
His stremys and his daungeres hym be side
Ther was non suche from hul in to Cartage
For wyse he was though he were ful of corage
Hardy he was and waar to vndertake
With many a tempest his berd hath quake
He knew alle the hauenes that ther were
Fro yngelond in to the Capfenester
And euery cryke in brytayne and in spayne
His barge was called the Maudeleyne
WIth vs there was a doctour of phisik
In the worlde was ther non̄ hym lik
To speke of phisik and surgerye
For he was groundid in Astronomye
He kepte his paciente a greet deel
In hour be magik natureel
Wel couthe he of fortune the accident
Of his ymage for his pacient
He knew the cause of euery maladye
Were it of cold hete moyst or drye
And were engendred of what humour
He was a very parfight practesour
The cause he knew and of his harm the rote
Anon̄ he yaf the sikman his bote
For redy alway be his apotecaryes
To sende hym drugges ⁊and his lettewaryes
For eche of them made other forto wynne
Her frendship was not newe to begynne
Ful wel knew he the olde Estulapius
And diascorid and eke Platearius
Olde ypocras . haly and eke Galiene
Serapion̄ Rasis and eke Auicene
Anorrois damascene and Constantyn
Bernard Gatisden and Gilbertyn
Of his diete mesurable was he
For it was of no superfluyte
But of greet norisshinge and digestible
His stody was but litil on the bybyll
In sangwen and in perce I clad with all
Lyned with taffata and whit sandall
And litil he was of his dispence
He kepte that he whan in the pestelence
For gold in phisik is a cordial
Therfore he loued gold in special
A Good wif ther was of beside bathe
And she was somdeel deef ⁊and þᵗat was scathe
Of cloth makynge had she suche an haunt
She passid hem of ypre or of gaunt
In al the parisshe wif was ther non
That to the offrynge before hir sholde goon
And if ther did certayn wroth was she
Than was she oute of al charite
Her kercheuys ful fyn were of ground
I durste swere they weyed thre pound
That on a sunday were on hir hed
Hir hosyn were of fyne scarlet reed
Ful streyte I teyd and shoos ful newe
Bold was her face fair ⁊and reed of hewe
She was a worthy womman al hir lyue
Husbondis at the chirche dore hadde she fyue
Withoute other companye in youthe
But her of nedith not to speke as nowthe
At acres had she been and at Iherusaleme
She had passid thouron many a stronge reme
At Rome she had be and at Babiloyne
At saint Iames in Galis and at Coloyne
She coude moche of wandrynge in the wey
Gap tothid was she sothly to sey
Vp on an Ambeler ful esely she sat
I wymplid wel ⁊and on hir hed an hat
As brood as it were a bokeler or a targe
A foot mantil aboute hir hippis large
And on hir helis a peire of sporis sharpe
In feleship coude she lawhe and carpe
Of remedyes of loue she counde ꝑper chaunce
For of that art she coude the daunce
A Good man ther was of Religion
And was a poure parson of a toun
But riche he was and holy of werk
He was also a lerned man ⁊and a clerk
That cristis gospellis trewly wolde preche
His parishons deuoutly wolde he teche
Benigne he was and wonder diligent
And in aduersite ful pacient
And suche he was proued ofte sithes
Ful loth were he to curse for his tithis
But rathir wolde he yeue out of doute
Vnto his poure parishons aboute
Of his offringe and of his sustenaunce
He coude in lityl thing haue suffisaunce
Wide was his parish and housis fer a sondir
But he let not for rayn ne for thundir
In siknesse ner in myschief to visite
The ferrest in his parish more and lite
Vp on his feet and in his hond a staf
This nobil ensample vnto his sheep he yaf
That first he wroughte ⁊and aftirward taughte
Out of the gospell the wordis he caughte
And this figure he ekyd therto
That if gold ruste what sholde Iren do
For a preest to be foul in whom we truste
No wonder is a lowd man to ruste
And shame it is yf a preest take kepe
A slotty shepherde and a clene shepe
Wel oughte a preest ensample to yeue
Be his clennesse how his sheep sholde lyue
Be sette not his benefice to hire
And lete his sheep acombre in the myre
And renne to london to saint Poulis
And seke hym a chauntrie for soulis
Othir with a bretherhede to be witholde
But duelle at hoom and kepe his folde
So that the wolf ne hadde the maistrye
He was a sheepherde and not a mercenarye
And though he holy were and vertuous
He was nat to a sinfulman to despitous
But in his speche discreet and benigne
Ne of his techyng daungerous ne digne
To drawe folk to heuen with fairnesse
Be good ensampyl this was his besinesse
But it were ony persone obstinat
Whether he were of high or lowe astat
Hym wolde he snybbe sharply for the nonys
A better preest I trow nowhere non̄ is
He waited aftir no pompe ne reuerence
Ne hadde no spiced conscience
But cristis lore and his apostelis twelue
He taughte but first he folowed hym selue
With him ther was a polowmā was his broder
That hadde led of dung many a fother
A trewe swynker and a good was he
Leuynge in pees and parfit charite
God loued he best with al his herte
At alle tymes they he gamed or smerte
And than his neyghebour right as hym self
He wolde thresshe and therto digge and delf
For cristis sake for euery poure wight
Withoute hire if it lay in his myght
His tithes payde he bothe faire and wel
Of his propir swynk and his catel
In a tabard he rood vp on a mere
There was also a reue and eek a Millere
A somp nour and a pardoner also
A Mancipill and my self ther was no mo
THe millere was a stout carle for the nonys
Ful big he was of braun and bonys
That proued wel for euer there he cam
At wrastlynge alwey he wolde haue the ram
He was short shuldred a thicke quarre
Ther was no dore that he nolde heue of the barre
Or breke it at rennynge with his hed
His berde as ony sowe or wex was reed
And therto brood as it were a spade
Vp on the cop of his nose he hade
A werte and ther ou stood a tufte of heris
Rede as the brustelis of a sowes eris
His nostrellis blak were and wyde
A swerd and a bokeler baar he be his syde
His mouth as greet as is a furneys
He was a Iangeler and a ioly hardeys
And that was most of synne ⁊and harlotryes
Wel coude he stele corn and tolle thryes
And that he hadde a thombe of gold parde
A whit cote and a blew hood weryd he
A bagge pype coude he blowe and sowne
And there with he broughte out of towne
A Gentyl Mancipyl was ther of the tempyl
Of whiche a catour mighte take ensampyl
Forto be wyse in byinge of vitayl
For whethir he payde or took be tayl
Algate he waytyd so on his acate
That he was ay before and in good state
Now is nat that of god a fair grace
That suche a lewd mannys witte shal pace
The wisedom of an heep of lerned men
Of maistris hadde he moo than thries ten
That were of lawe expert and corious
Of whiche ther were a dosen in that hous
Worthy to be stuardis of rente and londe
Of ony lord that is in Engelond
To make hym lyue be his owen good
In honour detles but he were wood
Othir lyue scarsely as hym list desire
And forto helpe al the shire
In ony cause that myghte falle or happe
And this mancipill set al her cappe
A Reue ther was a slendir colerik man
His berd is shaue as nygh as he can
His heris were be his eris rounde I shore
His top was dockid lik a prest before
Ful longe were his leggis and ful lene
Lik a staf ther nys no calf I sene
Wel coude he kepe a garner and a bynne
Ther was non auditour coude of hym wynne
Wel wiste he be the droughte and be the rayn̄
The yeldynge of his seed and of his greyn̄
His lordis sheep his neet and his deirie
His swyne his hors his stoor and his pultrie
Was hoolly in this reuys gouernynge
And by his couenaunt yaf the rekenynge
Seth his lord was twenty yeer of age
Ther coude noman brynge hym in rerage
Ther nas bailly ne noon other hyne
That coude his sleyghte or his couyne
They were of hym a drad as of the deth
His wonynge was fair vp on an heth
With grene treys shadowed was his place
He coude better than his lord purchace
Ful riche he was astored pryuely
His lord he coude please discretly
To yeue ayen to hym of his owen good
And haue thank ⁊and yet acote and an hood
In yongthe he hadde lerned a good mystere
He was a wel good wright a Carpentere
This reue sat vpon a wel good stot
That was al pomel gray and highte scot
A long surcote of Perce vp on hym he hadde
And by his syde he baar a rusty bladde
Of Norfolk was this reue of whiche I telle
Be syde a toun men calle Baldiswelle
Tuckyd he was as is a frere aboute
And euer he rood the hynderest of the rowte
A Sompnour with vs was in that place
That hadde a reed cherubyn face
For sawsfleme he was with yen narow
Hoot he was and likerous as a sparow
With blake browes skallid and pilled berd
Of his visage children were a ferd
Ther nas quyksiluer litarge ne bremstone
Borace ceruse ne oyle of tartre none
Ne oynement that ichith or byte
That mighte helpe of his welkis white
Ne of his knobbis sittynge in his chekys
Well loued he oynous garleek and lekys
And forto drynke reed wyne as red as blood
Than wolde he speke ⁊and crye as he wer wood
And whan he hadde wel dronke the wyn
Than wolde he speke no word but latyn
A fewe termes hadde he two or thre
That he hadde lerned of sum man of degre
No wondir is he herde it al the day
And eke ye knowe wel that a Iay
Can clepe watte as wel as the pope
But who coude hym in other thingis grope
Than had he spent al his philosofie
A questio quid queris wolde he crye
He was a gentil harlot and a kynde
A better felow sholde noman fynde
He wolde suffre for a quart of wyn̄
A good felow to haue his concubyn̄
A twelf monthe ⁊and excuse hym at the fulle
Ful pryuely a finche eke coude he pulle
And yf he fond owher a good felawe
He wolde teche hym anon to haue awe
In suche caas of the archedekenes curs
But yf mannys soule were in his purs
For in his purs he sholde punysshyd be
Purs is the archedekenes helle sayde he
But wel I woot he lied in dede
Of cursynge owght eche man to drede
For cursynge wil sle right as soyling saueth
And also ware hym of significaint
In daunger hadde he at his owen gise
Alle the yonge girlis of the diocyse
And knew of hir counseil ⁊and was of her rede
A garlond he hadde set vp on his hede
As greet as it were an alestake
A bokeler hadde he maad hym of a Cake
WIth hym ther rood a gentil pardoner
Of rouncyuale his frend ⁊and his comper
That streight was come fro the pope of Rome
Ful lowde he song com hidir leue grom
This sompnour baar to hym a styf burdon
Was neuer trompe of half so greet a soun
This pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex
And smothe it hyng as doth a strike of flex
By hounses hyng his lockis that he hadde
And there with his sholdris ouer spradde
But than it lay be Culpous one and one
An hood for cold wered he none
For it was trussed vp on his walet
Hym thoughte he rood vp on the newe get
Dissheuyld saue his cappe he rood albare
Suche glarynge yen hadde he as hath an hare
His walet beforn hym had he in his lappe
A vernacle hadde he sowid vp on his cappe
Brette ful of pardon com fro Rome al hoot
A vois he hadde as smal as hath a goot
No berd hadde he ne neuer sholde haue
As moche was it as it were newe shaue
I trowe he were a geldyng or a mare
But of his craft from Berwik vnto ware
Ne was ther nowher suche a pardoner
For in his male he hadde a pilow beer
Whiche that he sayde was our ladies veyll
He sayde he hadde a gobet of the seyll
That saint Petir hadde whan that he went
Vp on the se til Iesus crist hym hent
He hadde a cros of laton ful of stones
And in a glas he hadde piggis bones
But with thise reliques whan that he fond
A poure person dwellynge vp on lond
Vp on a day he gat hym more mone
Than the person gat in monethis thre
And thus hath he feyned flateriez ⁊and Iapis
He made the parson and the pepill his apis
But trewli to telle at the last
He was in chirche an noble ecclesiast
Well coude he rede a lesson or a story
But alderbest he song an offretory
For wel he wiste whan that song was sunge
He moste preche and file a while his tunge
To wynne siluer as he wel can
Therfore he song the merier than
NOw haue I tolde you shortly in a clause
The state the aray the nombre ⁊and the cause
Why that assembled was this companye
In Sowthwerk at this gentil hostelrye
That highte the Taberd faste by the belle
But now is tyme to you forto telle
How that we bare vs that ilke nyght
Whan that we were in the hostry a light
And aftir wil I telle of our viage
And al the remenaunt of our pilgremage
But first I you pray of your curtasye
That ye ne rekene nat my vilonye
Though that I playnly speke in this matere
To telle you here wordis and hir chere
And though I speke here wordis propirly
For this ye knowe as wel as I
Who shal a tale telle aftir a man
He moste reherce as nere as he can
Euery word yf it be in his charge
Al speke he so rudely and so large
Or ellis he moste telle his tale vntrewe
Or seyn thyngis or feyne wordis newe
He m not spare al though he were his brothir
He moot as wel say o word as anothir
Crist spak hym self ful brode in holy writ
And well ye woot no vilany is it
Eke plato saith who so can it rede
The word muste be cosyn to the dede
Also I pray you for yeue it me
Al though I sette not folk in her degre
Here in thyse tales as they sholde stonde
My wit is short ye may wel vnderstonde
GRet chere made our ost to vs euerichon̄
And to sopere sette vs anon̄
He serued is with vitayll at the beste
Strong was the wyne ⁊and drynke vs liste
A semely man our host was with alle
Forto be a marchal in a lordes halle
A large man he was with yen stepe
A feyrer burgeys is ther non in chepe
Bold of his speche and wel was I taught
And of manhood lacked he right nought
Eke therto was he right a mery man
And aftir sopper to pleyn he began
And spak of myrthe among other thinges
Whan that we hadde made our rekenynges
He sayde thus now lordynges treuly
Ye be to me right welcome hertly
For be my trowthe yf I shal not ly
I saw not this yeer so mery a companye
At onys in this harborow as now
Feyne wolde I do you myrthe yf I wiste how
And of my myrthe I am right now be thought
To do you ese and it shal coste you nought
Ye go to Caunterbury god you spede
The blisful martir quyte your mede
And wel ye woot as ye go be the weye
Ye shappyn you to talke and to pleye
For trewly comfort ne myrthe is non̄
To ride be the wey dom as a stoon̄
And therfore wil I make you disport
As I sayde erst and do you comfort
And if it liketh you alle be on assent
Forto stonde at my iugement
And forto worke as I shal you say
To morow whan ye riden on the way
Now be my fader soule that is ded
But ye be mery I shal yeue you my hed
Hold vp your hond withoute more speche
Our counsel shal not longe be to seche
Vs thoughte it was not worth to make vs wyse
And graunted hym withoute more a vyse
And bad hym saye his verdit as hym list
Lordynges qdquod he now herkeneth for the best
But take it not I pray you in disdeyne
This is the poynt to speke it short ⁊and pleyne
That eche of you to shorte with your weye
In this viage shal telle talis tweye
To Cauntirburyward I mene it so
And homward he shal telle other talis to
Of auenturis that whilom haue befalle
And whiche of you berith hym best of alle
That is to sey that tellith in this case
Tales of best sentence and most solace
Shal haue a soper of oure alther cost
Here in this place sittynge by this post
Whan that ye come ayen from Caunterbury
And forto make you the more mery
I wil my self go with you and ryde
Right at myn owen cost and be your gyde
And who that wol my iugement with say
Shortly shal paye all that is spent be the way
And if ye vouchesauf that it be soo
Tel me anone withoute wordis moo
And I wil hertly shape me therfore
This thing was graunted ⁊and othis swore
With ful glad herte ⁊and preyen hym also
That he wolde vouchesauf to do so
And that he wolde be our gouernour
And of oure talis Iuge and reportour
And sette a soper at a certayn pryce
And wol be rewlid at his deuyce
High and lowe and alle be on assent
We be accorded to the Iugement
And there vp on the wyne was fet anone
We dronk and to reste went we echone
With oute euy lenger taryynge
Amorow whan the day gan sprynge
Vp roos our host and was al our cok
And gadred vs alle in a flok
And forth we riden lityl more than a paas
Vnto the waterynge of saint Thomas
And there oure hoste gan his hors areste
And sayde harkeneth lordingez yf ye liste
Ye woot our forward and I you recorde
Yf euensong and morow song acorde
Let se now who shal telle the firste tale
As euyr moot I drynke wyne or ale
Who so wil be rebel to my iugement
Shal paye for al that is be the way spent
NOw draw cut or that ye further twynne
Whiche shal the firste tale begynne
Sire knyght quod he my maister ⁊and my lord
Drawith cut for that is myn accord
Cometh hithir quod he my lady Prioresse
And ye sire clerk let be your shamefastnesse
Ne stody not ley on hond euery man
Anon to withdrawe euery wight began
And shortly to telle as it was
Were it be auenture fortune or caas
The soth is this the cut fil on the knyght
Of whiche ful blithe ⁊and glad is euery wight
And telle he moste as it was reson
Be forward and be composicion
As ye haue herd what nedith wordis moo
And whan this good man saw that it was soo
As he that was wyse and obedient
To kepe his forward be his fre assent
He sayde sithnes I shal begynne the game
What welcom be cut a goddis name
Now lat vs ryde ⁊and herkyn what I say
And with that word we riden forth on the way
And he began with right a mery chere
And sayde anone his tale as ye shul here
¶ Here begynneth the knyghtis tale +
WHilom as olde story telleth vs
Ther was a duke that highte Theseus
Of thebes he was lord and gouernour
And in his tyme suche a conquerour
That gretter was ther none vnder sonne
Ful many a riche contre had he wonne
That with his wisedom and chiualrye
He conquered al the regne of femenye
That whilom was cleped Cithea
And wedded the quene Ipolita
And broughte hir home in to his contre