Ii · Cambridge, Cambridge University Library MS Ii.3.26
Canterbury Tales Project.
talesofcanterbury.org/GP/xml/transcripts/Ii/
[1r]
Whan that Aprill with his shoures sote
The droughte of March the rote
And bathed euery vaine in soche licoure
Of vertu engen dred is the floure
When zepherus eke with his sote breth
Inspired hath euery holte and heth
The tendre croppes and the yong sonne
Hath in the Rame halfe his course y ronne
And smale foules maken melodye
That slepen al nyght with open eye
So priketh hem nature in hir corages
Than longen folke to go on pilgrymages
And palmers for seken straunge strondes
To ferne halowes couthe in sondry londes
And specially fro euery shires ende
Of Englonde to Canterbury theye wende
The holy blisfull martir for to seke
That hem hath holpen when thay were seke
befall that in that season on a day
In Southewarke at the Taberde as I lay
Redie to go in my pilgrymage
To Cantrbury with deuoute courage
At nyght was came in to that hostelry
Well nine and twenty in a company
Of sondrie folke by auenture yfal
In feliship and pilgrimes were theay al
That towarde Canterbury woulde ryde
The chambres and the stables weren wyde
And well weren theay eased at the best
And shortly whan the sonne was to rest
So had I spoken with hem euerichone
That I was of her felishap anone
And made forwarde early for to rise
To take our way ther as I you deuise
But netheles while I haue time and space
Or thate I ferther in this tale pace
Me thinke it accordaunt to reason
To tel you al the condicion
Of eche of hem so as it seemed me
And wᵗith theay were ⁊and of what
And eke in what aray that they were
And at a knight then wil I first bigin
¶ A knight there was ⁊and þᵗat a worthy man
That fro the time þᵗat he firste began
To ryden out / he loued chiualrie
Trouthe / honour / fredom / and curteisie
Full worthy was he in his lordes warre
And therto had he ridden no man so farre
As well in cristendome at in hethinesse
And euer had honoure for his worthinesse
At Alisaundre hee was when it was won
Ful ofte time he had the bourde bigon
Abouen al nations in Pruce
In Lettowe had he ridden and in Ruce
No christen man so ofte of his degree
In Garnade at the seige had he bee
At Algezer / and riden in Belmarie
At Leyes was he / and also at Satalye
When theay were wonne / and in the great
At manye a noble armye / hadde he
At mortall battailles had he been fiftene
And foughten for our faith ate Tramyssene
In listes thries / and aye slaine his fo
This ilke worthy knyght had ben also
Somtime with the Lorde of Palathye
Ayenst another Hethen in Turkye
And eủermore / he hadde the soủereyn pris
And though that he was war he was wise
And of his porte als meke as a maide
He neủer yite no velanye saide
In all his life to no man̉er wight
He was a gentill parfite knyght
For to telle you of his aray
His horse weren grete but he was not gay
Of Fustean he wered a Iuppoun
All be smeryd with his haberioun
For he was late comen fro his vyage
And wente forto done his pilgremage
With hym there was a semely yonge Squier
A louere and a lusti Bachelere
Wᵗith lockes Croull as thei weren leide in presse
Of twenty yere of age he was as I gesse
Of his stature he was of euene lengthe
And bonnerly delyủre and grete strengthe
And he hadde ben some tyme in cheualrye
In Flaundres in artoys and in picardye
And borne hym wele as of his litle space
In hope to stonde in his ladies grace
Enbrawded he was as it were mede
All full of Fresshe floures white and rede
Singing he was or floting all day
He was as Fresshe as the monethe of May
Shorte was his gowne wᵗith sleues longe and wide
Wele couthe he sitte on hors and faire therto ride
He couthe songꝭes make and wele endite
Iuste and daunce and eke write
So hote he loued that be nighter tale
He slept no more then a nightingale
Curteise he was louly and seruisable
He carfe be fore his lorde at the table
A yeman hadde he and seruauntꝭes no moo
At that tyme wherfore hym liste to ride so
And he was clad in a cote and hode of grene
A shefe of pecoke Arowes bright and shene
Vnder his belte he bare full thriftely
Wele couthe he dresse his tackle yemanly
His arowes droped nought with feders lowe
And in his hande he bare a myghti bowe
Anotted hede hadde he wᵗith a broun vesage
Of wodecrafte couth he all the vsage
Vppon his arme he bare a gay brasere
And be his side a swerde and a bucklere
And on the tother side a gay daggere
Harneste wele sharpe as poynte of a spere
A Cristofere on his breste wele shene
An horne he bereth a baudryk of grene
A forster was he sothely as I gesse
There was a nonne also and a pⁱrioresse
Nonne
That of hir swering was symple and coye
Hir grettest othe was be seynt loye
And she was called Dame Eglentyne
Full wele she songe seruise devyne
Entuned was hir voyse full semely
And Frensshe she spake full fetously
After the scole of Stratforde at the bowe
For Frensshe of Parys was to hir vnknowe
At mete full wele taught she was wᵗith all
She lete no morsell from hir lippes fall
Ne wete hir fingers in hir sause depe
Wele couthe she Carye a morsell of mete
That no drope fell vppon hir breste
In curtesye was sette mych hir liste
Hir ouer lippe wiped she full clene
That in hir coppe there was no fatte thing sene
And when she hadde dronken hir draught
Full semely after hir mete she raught
And sekerly she was of grete disporte
Off plesaunce and amyabull of poerte
And peyned hir to counterfete there
Of courte to be stately of manere
And to be holde deyne of reủerence
But to speken of hir conscience
She was so gentill and so piteous
She coude wepe if she sawe a mous
Kaught in a Trappe if it were dede or bledde
Full smale houndes hadde she that she fedde
Wᵗith roste flesshe mylke and wastell brede
And sorye was she if any of hem were dede
Or if men smote hem wᵗith yerde smerte
And all was conscience and tendir herte
Full semely hir wymple pinched was
Hir nose streight hir Eyen gray as glas .
Hir mouthe smale and therto softe and rede
But sekerly she hath a faire forhede
It was almoste a span brode I trowe
Full hardely she was nought vndergrowe
Full feteis was hir cloke as I was ware
Of small coralle a boute hir arme she bare
A peire of bedes gawdied all wᵗith grene
And theron hengeth a broche full shene
On which there was writen a crowned A .
And after that Amor vincit omnia
A nother nonne with hir hadde she
That was hir Chapeleyn and prestes thre
A monke there was faire for the maistry
¶Monke
An oute rider he loued venery
A manly man to bene an Abbote able
Full many good horse hadde he in his stable
And when he rode men myght his bridell here
Gyngeling in a whistelyng winde clere
And eke as lowde as dothe the chapell belle
There as the lorde was keper of the selle
The rule of seynt Maure or of seynt Benete
Be cause it was holde somedele streite
This Ilke monke lete olde thingꝭes passe
And helde after the newe the space
He yafe not of the text a polled henne
That seyth that hunters ben not hooly men
Ne nas a monke when that he is recheles
Is likned to a fisshe that is waterles
This to say a monke oute of Cloystre
But that text holde I not worthe anoystre
And I seide his oppyneon was good
What shulde he study and make hym self wode
Vppon a boke in cloystre all wey to poure
And swinke with handes and laboure
As augustyn haue his swinke all the worlde be serued
Let augustyn haue his swinke to hym reserued
Ther for he was a pⁱricker of right
Thre houndes he hadde as swifte as foule in flight
Was all his luste for no thing wolde he spare
Furred sleues and purfeled at the hande
Wᵗith gray and that the fynest of a lande
And softe fustyan his hode vnder the chynne
He hadde of golde wrought a coryous pynne
A loue knotte the gretter ende was
His hede was balled and shone as glas
And eke his face as he hadde bene anoynte
He was a lord fatte and in good poynte
His Eyen stepe and rolling in his hede
That semeth as a fourenesse of lede
His botes souple his hors in good state
Nowe certeynly he was a faire prelate
He was nought pale as a for pynned goste
A fatte swanne loued he beste of any roste
His Palfray was as broun̄ as a berye
A Frere there was a wantone and a merye
Frere
A lymitoure and a full solempne man
In all the orders foure is none that wele can
So mych of Dallyance and of faire langage
He hadde made many a faire mariage
Of yonge women at his owne coste
Vnto his ordre he was anoble poste
Full wele he loued and full famulier was he
With Frankeleyns ouere all in his contre
And with worthi yemen in the town̄
For he hadde power of confessioıı̄un
Full swetly herde he confessioıı̄un
And plesaunt was his absolucioıı̄un
And seide hym self more then a Curate
And of his ordre he was licenciate
He was a visy man to yeve penaıı̄unce
There that he wiste to haue good pitaıı̄unce
For vnto a pore harder forto yeve
Is signe that a man is wele y shreve
For if he yaf he durste make a vaunte
He wiste that a man was repentaıı̄unte
For many a man so harde is of herte
He may not wepe all tho he sore smerte
Wherfore in stede of weping and praiers
Men moste yeve silủer to the pore Freres
His tippete was farsete full of knyves
And wᵗith pynnes to yeve faire wyves
And certeyn he hadde a merye note
Wele couthe he syng and play at the rote
At weddinges he bare a wey the price
His necke white was as the floure delice
Therto stronge was he as a Champioıı̄un
He knewe tauerns wele at eủery town̄
And eủery hostelere and tapestere
Better than a lazer or a beggere
To haue swich a lazer in aqueintaıı̄unce
It is nought honeste it may nought a vaunce
For to dele with swiche poraile
But all with riche and sellers of vetayle
And oủer all there as profite shulde arise
Curteise he was and louly of seruise
There nas no man no where so vertuous
He was the beste begger in all the house
For thegh a wedowe hadde nought a shoo
So plesaunt he was wᵗith in pⁱrincipio
Yete wolde he haue offering or he went
His purchace was wele better then his rent
And rage he couthe as a whelpe
In loue dayes couthe he mych helpe
For there he nas nought like a cloystrere
With a threde bare cope as is a pore cloystrere
But he was like a maister or a pope
Of double worstete was his semely cope
That rounde was as a belle oute of presse
Somwhat he lisped for his wantounesse
To make his Englysshe swete vppon his tonge
And his harping when he hadde songe
His Eyen twincled in his hede aright
As Dothe the sterres in the frosty night
This worthy lymetoure was called hoberde
A marchaunt there was wᵗith a forked berde
¶Merchuᵃaunt
Vppon his hede a Flaundrisshe beủer hatte
In motley on hight on hors he sate
His botes clasped faire and fetiously
His resons he spake full solemply
Shewing all weyes the encrese of his wynnyng
He wolde the see were kept for any thyng
Be twix . myddelburghe and orwelle
Wele couth he in his eschaunge byt selle
This worthi man full wele his witte he be sette
There wiste no wight that he was in dette
So estately was he of gouủernaıı̄unce
With his bargayns and his cheuyssaıı̄unce
For sothe he was a worthy man wᵗith all
Bot sothe for to seyne I not howe men hym calle
A Clerke there was of Oxinforde also
Clerke
That vnto logyk hadde longe y go
And lene was his horse as it were a rake
And he was right fatte I vndertake
But loked hoole and therto soberly
Full threde bare was his oủer courtby
For he hadde getyn hym yete no benefice
Ne he was not worthy to haue noone office
For hym was leủer to haue at his beddes hede
Twenty bokes clothed in blak and rede
Of Alestotile and of Philosophie
Than robes riche or fydell or sautrie
But all that he myght of his Frendes hente
On bokes and on lirnyngꝭes he spente
And besely he gan for the soules pray
For hem that yaf hym wherwᵗith to scolay
Of stody toke he moste cure and hede
Nought oone worde spake he more then was nede
Shorte and quick and of highe sentence
Some thing in morall vertue was his prudence
And gladliche wolde he lirne and gladliche teche
And therwᵗith full softe was he in his speche
A sergaunte of lawe warr and wise
Sergaıı̄unte of lawe
That often hadde bene at parvise
That was also riche of excellence
Discrete he was and of grete reủerence
Hym semeth that his wordes weren full wise
Iustice he was full often in a syse
By patent and by pleyn cōmmissioıı̄un
For his science and his highe renoun̄
Of Fees and robes hadde he many oon̄
So grete a purchasoure was there neủer none
All was fee symple to hym in affecte
His purchasing myght not be to hym in suspecte
No where was so besy a man as he there nas
And yite he semed besier then he was
In termes hadde he case and domes all
That fro the tyme of king William were falle
Therto he couthe Endite and make a thing
There couthe no wight pinche at his writing
And eủery statute couthe he pleyne by rote
He rode but homely in a myddell cote
Y gyrte wᵗith a seynt of silke and barres smale
Of his aray telle I no leng tale
A Frankeleyn was there in his companye
Frankleyn
White was his berde as was the dayes Eye
And of his complexcioıı̄un he was sangueyn
To lif in delite was eủer his wone
For he was Epicuris owne sone
That helde oppenyon that pleyn delite
Epicurys
Was veray felicite parfite
An house holder was and that a grete he
Seynt Iulian he was in his contre
His brede his ale was all wey after oone
A better vetayled man was there neủer noone
With oute bake mete was he neủer in his house
His Fisshe his flesshe and that so plenteouse
It shewed in his house of mete and drinke
Of all deyntes that men couth thinke
After the sondry sesone of the yere
So chaunged he his mete and his soupere
Full many a fatte partriche hadde he in mewe
And many a breme and luce in stewe
Wo was his coke but his sauce were
Poynaıı̄unt and sharpe and redy all his gere
His table dormaunt in his halle all weye
Stode redy coủered all the longe day
At Cessions there was lorde and syre
Full often tyme he was knyght of the shyre
A lase and a gypser of silke
Henge at his gyrdill white as morowe mylke
A sheref hadde he bene and a countour
Was neủer no where swich a worthi lauasour
A haberdassher . and a Carpentere
Haberdassher
A Webbe a Dyer . and a tapestere
And thei were clothed all in oone leveray
Of a solempne and a grete fraternyte
Full Fresshe and newe they piked was
Her knyves were not chaped wᵗith Bras
But all wᵗith silủer wrought full clene and wele
Her girdels and her pouches eủerydele
Wele semeth Ilke of hem a fatte burgeys
To sitte atte yelde halle at the deys
Eủerych for the wisdame that he can
Was happy forto bene thi aldre man
For catell hadde thei ynough and rente
And her wyves wolde therto assent
And elles certeyn thei were to blame
It is full faire to be called medame
And go to the vegyll all be fore
And haue a mantyll royally y bore
A Coke they hadde with hem for the nones
Coke
To boyle chekyns with the mary bones
And pouder marchaunt tarte and galyngale
Wele couthe he knowe a Draught of good ale
He couthe roste sethe boyle and Frye
Make mortreux and wele bake a pye
But grete harme was it as it semed me
That on his chyn a mormall hadde he
For blank manger made he with the beste
A shipman was there that wonneth ferr by weste
Shipman
For ought I wote he was of Dertmouthe
He rode vppon a rounsy as he couthe
In a gowne of Faldyng to the kne
A dagger hanging on a lase hadde he
A boute his necke vnder his arme a doun̄
The hote somer hadde made his hewe all broun̄
And serteynly he was a good felawe
Full many a draught of wyne hadde he drawe
Fro burdeux warde whiles that the shipmen slepte
Of conscience rought he ne kepte
And at full many a batayle in that londe
Hadde he foughten and hadde the bett̉er honde
But of his crafte to reken wele his tides
His stremes and his daungers hym besides
There nas noone swich fro hulle vnto Cartage
For wise he was thogh he were full of corage
Hardy he was and ware to vndertaken
With many a tempeste his berde hath bene shaken̄
He knewe all the hauens as thei boıı̄unde were
Fro Englonde to the Capfenestre
And eủery Creke in bretayne and in spayne
With vs there was a doctoᵘur of Fesyke
Doctoᵘur
In all the worlde was there none hym like
To speke of Fesyke and of surgery
For he was grounded in astronomy
He kept his pacience a full grete dele
In vs he markete naturell
Wele couthe he of fortune the accident
Of his ymage for he was pacient
He knewe the cause of eủery maledy
Were it of hete colde moyste or dry
Howe it was engendred and of what humore
He was a verey parfite practisoure
The cause he knewe of his harme by rote
Anoone he yafe the seke man his bote
For redy he was at the potecaries
To sende hym drugges and his letwaries
For Ilke of hem made other forto wynne
Her frendship was nought newe to begynne
For wele knewe he the olde osculapius
And discorde eke and Ruphus
Olde ypocras halye and eke galyane
Serapion Crasy and eke Nysene
Auorros Damastion and Costantyn
Bernard gatesdane and gilbertyn̄
Of his dyete mesurable was he
For it was noone of suꝑperfluyte
But of grete norysshing and degestyble
His studie was nought but litle on the bible
In sangueyn and in a party cladde wᵗith all
Elyned with Taffata and with sendall
And yite he was but Esy of dispence
He kept that he wan in tyme of pestilence
For golde in Fesyke is a cordyall
Therfore he loued golde in speciall
A good wiffe there was of be side Bathe
Wiff of Bathe
She was somdele defe and that was skathe
Of clothe making hadde she swich an haunte
She passed hem of Ipres and of Gaunte
In all the paresshe wife was there none
That to the offeryng be fore hir shulde gone
And if they Did certeyn wrothe was she
That she was oute of all charite
Hir kerchefes full fyne were of grounde
I durste swere they weyed doun̄ a pounde
That eủery sonday were on hir hede
Hir hosen were of fyne scarlete rede
Full streite . y teyed and shone full newe
Bolde was hir face faire and rede of hewe
She was a worthy woman all hir lyve
Housbandes at the chirche dorre she hadde fyve
With oute other companye in her youthe
But it nedeth not to speke as in youthe
At ypres hadde she be and at Ierusalem̄
She hadde passed many a stronge streme
At Rome hadde she bene and at babiloyne
In galece at seynt Iames and at Coleyne
She couthe myche of wandryng in the weye
Gaptothe she was the sothe forto seye
Vppon an awmblere full Esely she sate
Y wympled wele and on hir hede an hatte
As brode as it were a boklere or a targe
A good mantyll a boute hir hippes large
And on hir heelys a paire of sporres sharpe
In felawship couthe wele carpe
Of remedies of louers couthe she ꝑparchaunce
For of that arte she couthe wele daunce
A good man there was of religeoun̄
And he was a pore persone of a town̄
But riche he was and hooly of werke
That truly cristes gospell wolde preche
His paresshons devoutely wolde he teche
Benigne he was and wonder deligent
And in adủersite he was full pacient
And suche as he was proffred often sithes
Full lothe hym were to courte for his tithes
But rather wolde he yeve oute of doute
Vnto his pore paresshons a boute
Of his offeryng and of his sustenaıı̄unce
¶Persoun̄
He couthe in litle thing haue suffisaunce
Wyde was his paresshe and houses ferr a sonder
But he lete nought for reyne ne thonder
In sekenesse and in mysschief to vesyte
The ferrest in his paresshe more and lesse
Vppon his fete and in his hande a staff
This noble Ensaumple to his shepe he yaf
That firste wrought and after he taught
Oute of the Gospell the wordes he caught
And this Figure he yafe ther to
That if golde ruste what shulde Irne do
For if a preste be foule in whome we trust
No wonder is a lewde man to mystrust
And shame it is if a preste take kepe
A shiten shepharde and a clene shepe
Wele ought a preste ensaumple forto yeve
By his clennesse howe his shepe shulde lyve
Ne sette not his benefice to hyre
And lette his shepe acombred in the myre
And renne to london to seynt poules
To seken hym a chauntry for soules
Or with a bretherhed to bene holde
But Dwellyng at home and kepe his folde
So that the wolf ne hadde nought meskarye
He was a sheparde and nought a mercenarye
And though he hooly were and vertuouse
He was not to symple men dispiteouse
But in his speche discrete and benigne
Ne in no wise daıı̄ungerous ne digne
To drawe folke to honoᵘur with fairenesse
By good ensaumple this was his besynesse
But it were any persone abstynate
Who so were of lowe degre or hye of astate
Hym wolde he snebbe shortly for the nones
A bett̉er preest I trowe goth nought on bones
He waited after no pompe nor reủerence
Ne made hym none spised conscience
But Cristes lore and his apostels twelve
He taught but firste he folowed hem hym selve
With hym there was a plough man that was his brother
Plough man
That hadde y ledde of donge many a Fother
A true swinker and a good herde was he
Levyng in pees and in parfite charite
God loved he best with all his herte
And at all tyme though he be gan to smerte
And than his neghburgh right as hym selue
He wolde trust and therto Dyke and Delue
For cristes sake for eủery pore wight
With outen hyre if it lay in his myght
His tithes paide he bothe faire and wele
Bothe of his ꝓpropre swynke and his catele
In a tabarde he rode vppon a mere
There was also a Reve and eke a mylnere
A somnere and a pardon̉er also
A maunsyple and my self there was no moo
This Milnere was a stoute karle for the nones
Full bigge he was of brawne and bones
Mylnere
That proved welle for eủer where that he came
At wrestling all wey he wolde haue the game
He was shorte shuldred and a thuk gnarre
Ther nas no dorre that nolde lifte of a barre
Or breke it at rennyng with his hede
His berde as any wexe was rede
And therto brode as it were a spade
Vppon the coppe of his nose he hadde
A werte and there on stode a tofte of heeres
Rede as the brystill of a swyne heeres
His nose thrilles black were and wyde
A swerde a bokelere bare he be his syde
His mouthe as grete as a foureneys
He was a Ianglere and a Ioly arteys
And that was moste of synne he vsed harletrye
Wele couthe he stele corne and tolle thrye
And that he hadde a thoumbe of golde parde
A white cote and a blak hode wered he
A bagge pipe couthe he blowe and sown̄
And ther with he brought vs all oute of town̄
A gentyll maunciple was there of a temple
Maunciple
Of which a catoᵘur myght take ensaumple
For to bene wise in bigging of vetayle
For whether he peide or toke be a tayle
Algate he waited so on his akate
That he was ay before and in good state
Nowe it not that of god a faire grace
That swich a lewde man his wit shall passe
The wisdome of an hepe of lirned men
Of maisters he hadde moo then thries ten
That were experte of lawes and Curyous
Of which there was a doseyn in that house
Worthi to ben stewardes of house and londe
Of any lorde that is in Englonde
To make hym lyve bi his owne good
In honoᵘur doutles but if he were wode
Or lyve as chepely as hym liste to desyre
And forto helpen all the shyre
In any case that myght falle or happe
And yite this maunsiple sette vp all her cappe
The reve was a sklender coloured man
Reve
His berde was shave as nygh as he can
His heere was bi his Eres rounde y shore
His Toppe was doket like a preest be fore
Full longe was his legges and full lene
Lyke a staf there nas no calf sene
Wele couthe he kepe a garnere and a bynne
There was none auditoᵘur couthe of hym wynne
Wele wiste he bi the drought and be the reyne
The yelding of his sede and of his greyne
His lordes shepe his nette and his daire
His swyne his horse store and his pultrie
Was holy in this Reves goủernaunce
And bi his Couenᵃnte yafe he attendaıı̄unce
Sithens his lorde was twenty yere of age
There couthe no man bring hym in rerage
There nas bayle ne herde ne no nother hyne
That he ne couthe his sleight and his covyne
Thei were of hym a drad as of the dethe
His wonnyng was faire vppon a hethe
With grene trees shadowed was his place
He couthe better then his lorde purchace
Full riche he was and stored pⁱrively
His lorde he couthe plese discretly
To ben ayeins hym of his owne good
And haue a thanke and yete a cote and a hode
In youthe he hadde lirned a good mystere
He was a wele good wright and a carpentere
This Reve . sate vppon a wele good stotte
That was all pomell grey and highe shotte
A longe surcote of pers vppon he hadde
And be his side he bare a rusty blade
Of norffolk was this reve which I telle
Besides a towne men calle it Baldeswelle
Tuked he was as is a Frere a boute
And eủer he rode the hindrest of oure route
A Somonoure was there wᵗith vs in that place
¶Somonere
That hadde a faire rede cherubyn face
For sauuceflemyd he was with Eyen narowe
But he was as a likerous as a sparowe
With blak browes scalled and pilled berde
Of his vesage children weren full sore a ferde
There nas quick silủer licoure ne brymstone
Borage ceruse ne oyle of tartre none
Ne Oynement that iched and bite
That myght helpe hym of his welkes white
Ne of his knobbys sittyng on his chekes
Wele he loued garleke onyoıı̄uns and lekes
And forto drynke rede wyne as rede as the blode
Than wolde he speke and crie as he were wode
And when he hadde wele dronken the wyne
Then wolde he speke no word but latyne
A fewe termes hadde he ij . or thre
That he hadde lirned oute of some degre
No wonder is he herde it all the Day
And eke he knewe wele that aray
He can clepe watte as wele as the pope
But he couthe hym in other thinges grope
Then he spende all his philosophie
A question quod queris wolde he crie
He was a gentill harlote and a kinde
A better felawe shulde no man finde
He wolde suffre for a quarte of wyne
A good felawe to haue his concubyne
A twelmoneth and excuse hym at the fulle
Full pⁱrively a fynche couthe he pulle
And if he founde owhere a good felawe
He wolde teche hym anoone to haue awe
In swich case of the Erchdekens curse
But if mannes soule were in his purse
For in his purs he shulde pinched be
Purs is the Erchdekens hele seide he
But wele I wote he lied in dede
Of curse ought eủery man to drede
But cursing wil slee right as a soyling saveth
And also war hym of significauit
In daung̉er hadde he at his owne gise
The yonge girles of all the dieses
And knewe of her counseyle and of her rede
A garlande he hadde sette vppon his hede
As grete as it were an ale stake
A bokelere hadde he made of a cake
With hym there rode a gentyll pardon̉er
Pardon̉er
Of rouncyvale his Frende and his compere
That streight was come from the pope of rome
Full lowde he songe come hidder loue come
This Pardon̉er bare to hym a chief burdoıı̄un
Was neủer trompe of half so grete soun̄
This pardon̉er hadde heere as yelowe as wexe
But it henge as it were a stryke of flexe
By vnces henge his lokkes that he hadde
And therwith were his shuldres spradde
But then it lay bi culpons oone and oone
And hode for Iolite ware he noone
For it was trussed vp in his walet
Hym thought he rode all on the newe gette
Vnshebelled sauf his cappe all bare
Suche glarynge yen had he as hath an hare
His walete be fore hym he bare in his lappe
A vernecle hadde he sowed vppon his cappe
Frette full of pardone come from rome all hote
A voyse he hadde as smalle as a gote
No berde hadde he ne none shulde he haue
As myche were it as it were newe shaue
I trowe he were a gelding or . a mare
But of his crafte from warrwik vnto ware
Ne was there neủer suche a pardonere
For in his male he hadde a pelowe bere
Which he seide was oure ladies vayle
He hadde he seide a gobette of the sayle
That seynte Petir hadde when he wente
Vppon the see till IħcIhesu crist hym hente
He hadde a crosse of latone full of stones
And glas he hadde full of pigges bones
But with thes reliques that he founde
A poủere persone dwelling vp londe
Vppon a day he gate hym more money
Than that persone gate in monethes twey
Thus hath he serued wᵗith flateryng Iapes
He made the persone and the peple his apes
But truly to telle at the laste
He was in chirche a noble celestiate
Wele couthe he rede a lessone or a storye
But alther beste sange he in a fraterye
For wele he wiste when that songe was songe
He moste preche and wele rule his tonge
To wynne silủer as he wele couthe
Therfore he songe the meryer and louthe
NOwe haue I tolde you in a clause
The state the array and eke the cause
Why that insemble was this cōmpanye
In southwerke at the gentill hostlerye
That hight the tabarde faste by the belle
But nowe is tyme you forto telle
How that we bare vs that ilke night
When that we weren in that hostelery a light
And after wil I telle of oure vyage
And all the Couenaunt of oure pilgremage
But first I pray you of youre curtesye
That ye ne take it nought for no velenye
Though that I speke pleynly in this matere
To telle you here wordes here and there
Ne though I speke her . wordes ꝓproprely
For this ye knowe as wele as I .
Who shall telle a tale after a mayn
He moste reherce as nye as he can
Eủery worde if it be in his charge
All though he speke sothly and to large
Or elles he moste telle his tale vntrue
Or fayne thinges or finde wordes newe
He may not spare all though he were his brother
He moste as wele sey oone worde as a nothere
Crist spake hym selue full brode in hooly writte
And wele I wote no veleny is it
Eke plato seide who so can it rede
The wordes most ben chosen to the dede
Also I pray you for yeue it me
All if I haue nought sette folkꝭes in her degre
Here in this tales as they sholde stonde
My wit is shorte ye may wele vnderstonde
Grete chere made oure hoste to vs eủerychone
And to the souper sette he vs anoone
He serued vs with vetayle at the beste
Stronge was the wyne and wele drynke vs liste
A semely man oure hoste was with all
Forto bene a marshall in a lordes halle
A large man he was with Eyen stepe
A faire burgeys there nys none suche in chepe
Bolde of his speche he was and wele taught
And of manhede lacketh he right nought
Eke therto he was right a mery man
And after souper to pley he began
And spake of myrthe amonge other thinges
When he hadde made oure rekenynges
And seide thus nowe lordinges truly
Ye bene to me right welcome hertely
For beFor be my trouthe if I shall not lie
I sawe not this yere so mery a companye
At oones in this hostery as is nowe
Fayne wolde I do you myrthe and I wiste howe
And of my myrthe I am right nowe be thought
To do you cause and it shall coste you nought
Ye wil to cauntirbury god you spede
The blisfull martir quyte you youre mede
And wil ye wete as ye go bi the way
Ye shapen you to talken and to play
For truly comforte ne myrthe it is noone
To ride bi the way as doume as a stone
And therfore wil I make you disporte
As I seide erste and done you comforte
And if it like you all by oone assent
Forto stonde to my Iuggement
And to werke as I shall you sey
To morowe when ye ride bi the wey
Nowe be my Faders soule that is dede
But if ye be merye I shall lese myn hede
Holde vp youre handes with outen more speche
Oure counseyle shall nought be longe forto seche
We thought it was nought worth to make vs wise
And graunted hym with oute more devise
And bade hym sey his wordes as hym liste
Lordinges quod he herkenyth for the beste
But take it nought I pray you in disdeyn
This is the poynte to speke it shorte and pleyn̄
That Ilke of you to shorte with youre wey
In this viage shall telle talys twey
To Cauntirbury warde I mene it so
And homwarde he shall telle other tales twoo
Of aventurs that whilome hath bifalle
And which of you that bereth hym beste of all
That is to sey that telleth in his case
Tales of beste sentence and moste of solace
Shall haue a souper of youre alther coste
Here in this place sitting bi this poste
When that we come ageyn from Cauntirbury
And forto make you the more merye
I wil my self goodly with you ryde
Right at myn owne coste and bene yoᵘur gyde
And who that wil my Iuggement with sey
Shall pey all that is spended bi the way
And if ye wil that it be so
Telle me anoone with oute wordes moo
And I wil hardely shape me therfore
This thing was graunted and othes swore
With full gladde herte and praying hem also
That he wil vouchesauf so forto doo
And that he wil bene oure gouernoure
And of oure tales Iuge and reportoure
And sette a souper at a serteyn pris
And we wil be ruled at his Devise
Highe and lowe and all by oone assent
We bene acorded to the Iuggement
And ther vppon the wyne was fette anoone
Wyne dronken and to oure reste wente Ilke oone
With outen any leng tarying
A morowe when the day gan to spryng
Vp rose oure hoste and was all oure koke
And gadred vs all on a faire flok
And forthe we riden a litle morowe pace
Vnto the wateryng of seynt Thomas
And there oure hoste bigan his hors areste
And seide herkenyth lordinges if ye liste
Ye wote oure forwarde and I you recorde
Yf Eueson̄ or morwe songe acorde
Lette se nowe who shall telle the firste tale
As eủer mote he drynke wyne or ale
Who so wil be rebell to my Iuggement
Shall pay for all that ye bi the way spent
Nowe draweth lotte er that ye firther twynne
The which shall the firste tale be gynne
Sir knyght quod he my maister and my lorde
Draweth Cutte for that is myn acorde
Come nere qdquod . he my lady prioresse
And ye Sir clerke lette be youre stedfastnesse
Now stonde not still ley on hande eủery man
Anoone to drawe eủery wight began
And shortly to telle as it was
Were it bi auenture shorte or caas
The sothe is thus the cutte fell on the knyght
Of which full blithe and gladde was eủery wight
And telle he moste his tale as it was resone
By forwarde and by composicioıı̄un
As ye haue herde what nedeth wordes moo
And when this good man sawe that it was so
As he that wise was and obedient
To kepe his forward bi his Fre assent
He seide sithen I shaƚƚ be gynne the game
What welcome be the Cutte a goddis name
Nowe lete vs ryde and herkenyth what I sey
And with that worde we riden forthe on oure wey
And he be gan with right a merye chere
His seide anoone this tale as ye shall here
Whilome there was as an olde storye telleth vs
A duke that hight Thesius
¶ Thesius
Of Thebes he was lorde and goủernoure
¶ Thebes
And in his tyme swiche a conqueroure
That gretter was there noone vnder sonne
Full many a riche contre hadde he wonne
What with his wisdome and his cheualrye
He conquered all the reaume of femenye
That whilome was cleped Sithia
¶ Sithia
And wedded queen ypolita
¶ ypolita
And brought hir home into his contre
With myche glorie and solempnite
And eke hir yonge suster Emelye
And this with victorye and with melodie
Lete I this noble duke to Thebes ryde
And all his hoste in armes hem be side
And serteis if it nere to longe to here
I wolde haue tolde fully the matere
Howe y wonne was the reaume of Femenye
By Thesius and bi his cheualrye
And of the grete batayle for the nones
Be twix Athenes and amyzones
¶ athenes
And howe beseged was ypolita
¶ amyzones
The faire hardy queen of Sithya
And of the feste that was at her weddyng
And of the tempeste at her home cōmmyng
But all thingꝭes I mote as nowe for bere
I haue god wote a large felde to Ere
And weyke ben the oxen in my plough
The remnāunt of my tale is longe ynough
I wil not letten none of this route
Lete eu͗ery felawe telle his tale a boute
And lete se nowe who shall the souper wynne
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