Ld1 · Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS. Laud Misc. 600
Canterbury Tales Project.
talesofcanterbury.org/GP/xml/transcripts/Ld1/
That in hir cuppe was no ferthing seene
Of grece whan she had drunke hir drauhte
Ful semeli after hir mete she rauhte
And sikerli she was of grete disport
Of plesaunce and ameable of port
And peyned hire to countirfete chere
Of court to be stateli of manere
And to beholden digne of reuerence
But for to speke of hir conscience
She was so cheritable and so couetous
She wolde wepe if she se amous
Caught in a trappe if it were ded or bledde
Of smale houndes had she þat she fedde
With roste flesshe and wastelbrede
But sore wepte she if any of hem were dede
Or if men smot hem with a yerde smert
And al was conscience and tender herte
Ful semeli hir wimpel pynched was
Hir nose streight hir eien grey as glas
Hir mouþe smal and therto softe and rede
But sikerli she had a faire forhede
It was almost a span brood I trowe
For hardli she was nat vnder growe
Ful fetise was hir cloke as I was ware
Of smal coral aboute hir arme she bare
A peire of bedis gauded al with grene
And theron henge abroche ful shene
On whiche first was writen a crouned . A .
And after that amor vincit omnia
An other None / wᵗith hir had she
That was hire chapelyn and prestes thre
A monke that was faire for the maistrie
And an outrider he loued venerie
A manli man to be an Abbot able
Ful many deynte hors had he in his stable
And when he rood men might his bridel hiere
Gingling in whistling winde clere
And eek as loude as doþ the chapel belle
There as the lorde was keper of the selle
The reule of seint Maury or of seint Benet
Because it was olde ⁊and somdel streit
This ilke monk let olde þīnges pace
And hielde after the newe worlde þe space
He yeaff not of the text // a pulled henne
That seith that hunters be nat holi men
Ne that amonk whan that he is recheles
Is likned to a fisshe whan þat he is waterles
That is to sei amonk out of acloister
But that text held he not worth an oister
And I seide þᵗat his opinion is good
What sholde he studie / and make him wood
Vpon abook in cloistre alwai to poure
Or swinke wᵗith hondis and laboure
As austen bit but how shal the world be serued
Let austen haue his swinke to him reserued
Therfore he was a p̉rekasour aright
Grehoundes he had as swifte as foule in flight
Of priking and of hunting for the hare
Was al his lust for noþing wol he spare
I sawe his sleuis purfled at the hande
With grys and that finest of a londe
And for to fastin his hood vnder his chinne
He had of gold wrought a corious pynne
Aloue knotte in the gretter ende was
His heed was balled and shon as glas
And eek his face as he had ben anoynte
He was a lord fatte and in good poynte
His eien stepe and rolling / in his heed
That stemed as a furnes of a leed
His botis soupil his hors in gret astate
Now certeinly he was a faire prelate
He was nat pale / as a forpined goste
A fatte swanne loued he best of eny roste
His palfreie was as broun as berie
A frere therwas a wanton and a merie
A lymytour and a ful solempne man
In al the ordres foure is noon that so wel can
So moche of daliaunce and so faire language
He had made many a faire mariage
Of yonge women at his owne coste
Vntoo his ordre he was anoble poste
And welbeloued and ful famulier was he
Wᵗith frankleyns oueral in his contre
And wᵗith worthi yomen of the toun
For he had power of confessioıı̄un
And ful sweteli herde he confessioıı̄un
And plesaunt was his absolucioıı̄un
And seide himself more than a curate
And of his ordre he was licenciate
Was verrei felicite parfite
b .
Þat helde opinion that plein delite
a .
An housholder and that agret was he
vacat
There are faint bracket-like lines that may suggest that the scribe intended that multiple lines are to be deleted.
Curteis also and eek fre
An esi man to yeue penan̄ce
There he wist to haue good petance
Vnto a poore ordre for to yeue
Is signe that aman is wel I shreue
If he yaff he durst / make auaunt
He wist that aman was repentaunt
wiste
Many man so harde is of herte
Mai nat wepe if he soore smerte
Therfore in stede of weping and pᵃraiers
Mēn muste yeue siluer to þe poore freres
His tippet was stuffed ful of knyues
And with pinnes to yeue faire wiues
And certeinli he had a meri note
Merili coude he singe and pleie at the rote
Of tidinges he bar vtterli the pris
Milke white he was as þe floure delis
Therto stronge he was as a champion
He knewe the tauernes wel in eủery toun
And eủery hosteler and tapster
Better than a laser or a begster
For as to suche a man as he .
Accordeþ nat as bi his faculte
To haue wᵗith such sik lasers aqueyntan̄ce
It is nat honest it mai nat auan̄ce
For to dele with such poraile
Al wᵗith riche and sellers of vitaile
And oueral ther as richesse shuld arise
Curteis he was and louli of seruise
Ther was noman nowher so vertuous
He was þe best begger in his hous
For ther a widow had not a sho
So plesaunt was in principio
Yitt wolde he haue a ferthing or he wente
His purchas was better than his rente
And barke he couþe as it were a whelpe
In loue daies ther couþe he moche helpe
For there he was nat lik a cloisterer͗e
Wᵗith a thredebare cope as a poor frere
But he was lik amaist̉er or a pope
Of double worsted was his semeli cope
That rounde was as abelle out of presse
Somwhat he lisped for his wantonesse
To make his englissh swete on his tonge
And his harping when that he had songe
His eien twincled on his heed aright
As doon the sterres / in þe frosti night
This worthi limitour was called huberd
A marchan̄t þ̉erwas wᵗith a forked berd
In motteley on hihe on hors he satte
Vpon his heed a flaundres bever // hatte
His botis clapsid / faire and fetousli
His resons he spak ful solempneli
Shewyng alwai þencres of his wynnyng
He wolde the see were kepte for eny thinge
Betwixt Middelburgh and orwel
Wel coude he in his eschan̄ge sheldes selle
This worthi man his witt ful wel besette
Ther wist nowight what he was in dette
So stateli was he of gouernaunce
Wᵗith his bargayns and wᵗith his cheuisaıı̄unce
Forsothe he was aworþi man wᵗithall
But soth to sei I not how men him calle
A clerk ther was of Oxinforde also
That onto logiqꝫue long had I go
And lene was his hors as is a rake
And he was nat right fatte I vndertake
But loked holow and therto sobirli
Full thredbare was his oủereste courtepi
For he had gete him right no benefice
Ne was nat worþi to haue an office
For him was leuer to haue at his beddes heed
Twenti bokis cled in blak and reed
Of aristotle and of philosophie
Than robis riche or fidel or sautrie
But albe that he was a philosophre
Yitt had he but litel gold in cofre
But al that he might of his frendis hente
On bokis and on lernyng he it spent
And besili gan for the soules praie
Of hem þat gaff hem wherwith to scolaie
Of studie took he most cure and hede
Nat oo worde spak he moor þan nede
Short and quik was he of sentence
Sownyng / in moral vertu was his pʳrudence
And gladli wolde he lerne ⁊and gladli teche
And therto fulsofte was he in his speche
A sargeaıı̄unt of lawe war and wise
That often had ben at the parvise
That also was riche of excellence
Discrete he was and of gret reuerence
He semed suche his wordes were so wise
Iustise he was fulofte att assise
Bi patent and bi plein cōmmissioıı̄un
For his science and his high renoıı̄un
Of fees and robes had he many oon̄
So gret a purchasour was þ̉er never noon̄
Al was fee simpel to him in effect
His purchas might not be to him suspect
Nowher so leef aman as he ther nas
And yitt he semed besier than he was
In termys had he cas and domys alle
That fro the time of king william wer falle
Therto he coude endite and make athing
Ther couthe nowight pinche at his writing
And eủery statute coude he plein bi rote
He rood but homeli in a myddel cote
I gird wᵗith a seynt of silke wᵗith barres smale
Of his arrai telle I no lenger tale
A frankelein was in his companye
Whit was his berd as is the daisie
And of his complexioıı̄un . he was sanguyn̄
Wel loued he bi þe morwe a cuppe of wyn̄
To liue in delite was euer his wone
For he was epiourues owne sone
That hield opinioıı̄un / that plein delite
Was verrai felicite parfite
An housholder / and þat a gret was he
Seint Iulian he was in his cuntre
His bred his ale was euer after oon
A better ēnvined man was ther noon
Without bake metis was he neủer in his hous
His fisshe his flessh and þat so plenteuous
It shewed in his hous of mete and drinke
Of al deintees þat men couthe thinke
After the sondri ceson of the yere
So chaungeþ he his mete and his souper͗e
Full many a fatte partrik had he in mewe
And many a breme and luce in stewe
Wo was his cook but his sauce were
Poynaıı̄unt and sharp̄ and redi al his gere
His table dormant in his halle alwai
Stood redi couered al the long dai
At cessions ther was he lord and sire
Fulofte time was he knight of þe shire
A lace and a gisper of silke
Heng at his girdel whit asmorow milke
A shereff had he be and a coronour
Was nowher suche aworthi vauasour
An / haberdassher and a carpenter
A Webbe a diere and a tapiser
And thei were clothed al in oo liuere
A solempne and agret fraternite
Ful fressh and newe here gere apiked was
Hir knyues wer chaped not with bras
But al with siluer wrought ful clene and wele
Her knyues and her poaches eueridele
Wel semed hem eche a faire burgeis
To sitte at the yelde halle at the deis
Euerich for the wisdam that he can
Was happeli for to be an Alderman
For catel had thei Inough and rente
And her wyues wolde it wel assente
And ellis certein thei were to blame
It is ful feire to be called madame
And go to vigilies al before
And haue amantel rialli bore
A cook thei had with hem for the nonys
To boile the checons wᵗith the mari bonys
And pouder marchaıı̄unt tart and galingale
Wel coude he knowe a draught of london ale
He coude roste . sethe . boile and frie
Make mortrewes and wel make a pie
But gret harme was it as it thought me
For on his shene amormal had he
For blānk manger made he with the beste
A shipman ther was þat woned fer be weste
For ought I woot he was of dertmouthe
He rood vppon a rouncy as he couthe
In agowne of folding to the kne
Adagger on a lace / hanging had he
Aboute his necke vnder his arme adoune
The hoot somer had made his hewe al broune
And certeinli he was agood felawe
Full many a draught wine had he drawe
Fro burdeuxward whiles the chapman sleep̄
Of nice conscience took he no keep̄
At ful many batel in þat londe
He faught and had the higher honde
But of his crafte to reken wel his tides
His stremys and his daıı̄ungers him besides
Ther was non suche from Hulle vnto Cartage
For wise he was þough he wer ful of corage
Hardi he was and war to vndertake
With many a tempest his berde hath I quake
He kneuh al the hauenes as þei were
Fro Inglond into Capfenester͗e
And eueri creek in bretein and in spaine
His barge was called the Magdaleine
WIth vs ther was a doctour of phisiqȝue
In al the worlde ther was noon him liek
To speke of phisiqȝue and of surgerie
For he was grounded in Astronomie
He kept his pacience a ful gret dele
In houres bi magiqȝue naturele
Wel couthe he of fortune the accident
Of his Image for he is pacient
He kneuh the cause of eueri maladie
Whether it were of colde moist hete or drie
And where engendred and of what humour
He was a verrai parfit practisour̉
The cause he kneuh and of his harm the rote
Anoon he yaff the seke man his bote
For redi he is a poticaries
To sende him dreggꝭes and his lectuaries
For eche of hem made other for to wynne
Her frendship was nat newe to begynne
Ful wel kneuh he the olde escalapius
And discorides and eke Rufus
Of olde Ipocras hali and eek Galiene
Serapion Razie // and eek avisene
Auerois damastien̄ and custantyn̄
Bernard gatisden and gilbertyn̄
Of his diete mesurable was he
For it was of noon suꝑperfluite
But of gret norishing and degestible
His studie was but litel on the bible
In sanguyn and in perce // clad withal
I lyned with taffata and with sendal .
And yitt he ne was but esi of dispense
He kept that he wan in pestilence
For gold in phisik is a cordial
Therfor he loued gold in special
A good wiff ther was beside bathe
And she was somdel deff and þᵗat was skathe
Of cloth making / had she suche an haunte
She passed hem of Ipris and of gaunte
In all the parissh wiff was þ̉er noon̄
That to the offring afore hire shulde goon̄
And if þanne certein wroth was she
Thanne was she out of al cherite
Hir kerchers ful fine were of grounde
I durst seie thei weied doun̄ apounde
That on a sondai were on hire heed
Hire hosen were of fine scarlet reed
Ful streight I teide and shois ful newe
Bold was hir face feir͗ and reed of hewe
She was a worþi woman al hir lyue
Husbondis at chirchedore had she fiue
Without oþer company in youþe
But therof nedeþ not to speke as nouthe
And þries had she ben and at Ierusaleme
She had passed many straunge streme
At Rome had she ben and at Babilonye
In Galis att seint Iames and at colie
She couthe moche of wandring on the waie
Gappetothed was she sothli for to seie
Vpon an ambeler ful eseli she satte
I wimpled wel / and on hir heed an hatte
As brode as it were abokelere or a targe
A foot mantel aboute hir hippis large
Vpon hir helis a peire of sporis sharpe
In felauship̄ couthe she laughe and carpe
Of remedies of loue she couthe ꝑperchaunce
For of that arte she couthe the daunce
A good man ther was of Religioıı̄un
And was a pouer ꝑperson of a toun̄
But riche he was and holi of werk /
He was also a lerned man a clerk /
That cristis gospell treuli wolde preche
His parisshens deuoutli wolde he teche
Benigne he was and wonder diligent
And in aduersite ful pacient
And suche he was proued ofte sithes
Ful lothe wer he to curse for his tithes
But rather wolde he yeue out of doute
Vnto his poủere ꝑparisshens rounde aboute
Of his offring and of his sustenaıı̄unce
He couþe in litel thinge haue suffisaunce
Wide was his ꝑparisshe / and houses fer asonder
But he let not for rayn ne thonder
In sikenesse nor in myschef to visite
The ferthest in the ꝑparisshe more and lite
Vpon his feet and in his honde a staffe
This noble ensample to his sheep he yaffe
That first he wrought and aftirward he taught
Out of the gospel the wordis he caught
And this figure he added eek thertoo
That yf gold rust what shold Iren doo
For if a prest befoule in whom we truste
No wonder if that a lewed man ruste
And shame is it if a prest take kepe /
A shiten shepherd and a clene shepe
Wel ought a prest ensampil for to yeue
Bi his clennesse how his sheep̄ shulde liue
Beset not his benefice to hire
And lete his sheep acombren in the mire
And renne // to london to seint paulis
To seken him a chauntrie for saulis
Other wᵗith abrotherhed to be holde
But duelling at home to kepe his folde
So that þe wolf ne had nat miscarie
He was a shepherde and nat a mercenarie
And though he holi were and vertuous
He was to sinful men nat to dispetous
But in his speche discrete and benigne
Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne
To drawe folk to heuene wᵗith fairenesse
Bi good ensampil this was his besinesse
But it were any ꝑperson obstinat
How so were he highe or lowe of state
Him wolde he / snebbe for the nonys
A bettre prest I trowe þᵗat nowher non is
He waited after no pompe ne reuerence
Ne made him no spiced conscience
But cristis lore and his apostolis twelue
He taught but first / he folowed hem selue
WIth him ther was a ploman was his brother
Þat had Ilad of dong many a fother
A trewe swinker and a good was he
Lyuyng in pees and in parfit charite
God loued he wel with al his hert
At al times though he gamed or smert
And than his neighbourgh right as him selue
He wolde thresshe and therto digge and delue
For cristis sake for eueri poer wight .
Without hier if it lai in his might
His tithes paied he ful faire and wel
Bothe of his ꝓpropre swynke and his catel
In a tabard he rood vpon a mere
Ther was also a Reue and a mellere
A sompnour and a pardoner also
A maunciple and my selue ther were namo
The mellere was a stout carle for the nones
Ful big he was of brawne and of bones
That preued wel / for oueral where he cam
At wrastling he wolde haue awaie the ram
He was short shuldred a thikke knarre
Ther was no dore þat he ne wolde heue of harre
Or breke it at a rennyng wᵗith his heed
His berd as any sow or fox was reed
And therto brood as þough it were a spade
Vpon the cop right of his nose he hade
A wert and theron stood a tuft of heris
Reede as the brestles of a sowes eris
His noise thrilles blak were and wide
A swerde and bokeler bar he bi his side
His mouthe as grete was as agret fourneis
He was a Iangeler and a galiardeis
And þat was most of sinne and harlotries
Wel couthe he stele corn and tolle thries
And yitt he hadde athombe of gold parde
A whight cote and blewe hood wered he
A baggepipe wel couþe he blowe and sowne
A therwithal he brought vs out of toun
A gentil / maunciple was þ̉er of a temple
Of which actatours might take example
For to ben wise in bieng of vitaile
For whether he paied or took / bi taile
Algate he waited so in his achate
That he was aie beforn and in good state
Now is nat that of god a ful faire grace
That suche alewed mannes witt shal pace
The wisdam of an heep of lerned men
Of maistres had he moo þan thries ten
That were of lawe expert and corious
Of which ther was a doseyn in that hous
Worthi to ben stiwardes of rent and londe
Of any lorde that is in Ingelonde
To make him lyue bi his ꝓpropre good
In honour detles but if that he were wood
Or liue as scarsli as hym list desire
And able for to helpen al a shire
In any cas that might falle or happe
And yett this manciple sette here al þ̉ere cappe
The Reue was a sklender colerik man
Hes berde was shaue as nigh as eủer he can
His heer was bi his eris ful rounde I shorne
His toppe was dokked lik a prest bi forne
Ful longe were his leggis and ful lene
I lik a staff ther was no calf I sene
Wel couþe he kepe agarner͗ or a bynne
Ther was noon auditour couþe on him wynne
Wel wiste he bi the drouhte and bi the reyn̄
The yelding of his seed and of his greyn̄
His lordis shepe his nete his daierie
His swyn his hors his stoor and his pulletrie
Was hooli in this reues gouernynge
And bi his couenaıı̄unt gaf the rekenynge
Sin that his lord was twenti yer of age
Ther couþe noman bring him in arrerage
Ther was bailif ne herde ne other hyne
That he ne knewe his sleiht and his covyne
Thei were a drad of him as of the deth
His wonyng was ful fair vpon an heth
With grene trees shadwed was his place
He couþe better thanne his lorde purchace
Ful riche he was astored pⁱriueli
His lord he couthe wel plesen subtili
To yeue and lene him of his owne good
And haue a thanke and yett a cote and a hode
In youthe he hed lerned awel good mistere
He was awel good wright a carpentere
This Reue sat vp on a ful good stot
That was al pomeli grey and hight scot
A longe surcote of peers vpon he hadde
And bi his side he barre a rusti bladde
Of northfolk was this Reve of which I telle
Besiden atoun̄ men clepe it Baldeswelle
Tukked he was as is a frere aboute
And euer he rood the hindrest of oure route
A sompnour was þ̉er wᵗith vs in that place
That had a firy cherubynnes face
For sauceflem he was with eien narwe
As hoot he was and lecherous as a sparwe
With scalled browes blak and piled berde
Of his visage children were afferde
Ther nas quyk silủer litarge or bremston̄
Boras orsure ne oile of tartre noon̄
Ne oynement that wolde clense and bite
That him might helpe of his whelkes white
Nor of the knobbes sitting in his chekes
Wel loued he garlik oynons and eek lekes
And for to drinke stronge wyn red as any bloode
Than wolde he speke and crie as he were woode
And whan þat he wel dronken had þe wyne
Than wolde he speke noworde but latyne .
A fewe termes had he two or thre
That he had lerned out of som decre
Ne wonder is he herde it al þe dai
And eek ye knowen it wel how that a Iai
Can clepe watte aswel as can the pope
But who so couþe in other thinge him grope
Than had he spent al his philosophie
Ay questio quid iuris wolde he crie
He was agentil harlot and a kinde
A better felawe shul men not finde
He wolde suffre for a quart of wyne
A good felawe to haue his concubyne
A twelue monthe / and excuse him at fulle
Ful priueli a finche eek couþe he pulle
And if he fonde owher a good felawe
He wolde techen him to han noon awe
In swiche caas of the Archedeken curs
But if mannes soule were in his purs
For in his purs he shulde punshed be
Purs is þe Archedekenes helle seide he
But wel I woot he lied right in dede
Of cursing ought eche gilti man him drede
For curs wol sle right as asoiling sauith
And also war him of a significauith
In daunger had he at his owne gise
Tho yonge gerles of þe diocise
And knew hire counsail and what was al hir͗ rede
A garland had he sette vpon his hede
As grete as it were for an ale stake
A bokeler had he made him of a kake
WIth him ther rood agentil ꝑpardoner͗
Of Rouncyual · his frende and his comper͗
That streight was comen fro þe court of rome
Ful lowde he songe / come hider loue tome
This sompnour bar to him a stif burdoıı̄un
Was neuer trompe of half so gret a sown
This pardoner had heer as yellow as wax
But smothe it henge as doþ a strike of flax
Bi ounces henge his lokkes þat he hadde
And therwith he his shuldernes ouerspradde
But thinne it lai bi culpons oon and oon̄
But hood for Iolite wered he noon̄
For it was trussed vp in his walet
Him thought he rood al of the newe get
Discouered sauf his cap he rood al bare
Such glaringe eien had he lik an hare
A vernacle had he sowid on his cappe
His walet biforn him in his lappe
Bret ful of ꝑpardon comen fro rome al hote
A vois he hadde as smal as agote
No berde ne had he / ne neủer shulde haue
As smoþe it was as it were late shaue
I trowe he were a gelding or a mare
But of his craft fro berwik in to ware
Ne was ther swich anoþ̉er ꝑpardoner͗
For in his male he had a pilowber͗
Which that he saide was oure ladi vaile
He seide he had a gobet of þe saile
That seint petir had whan þat he went
Vpon the see til IħuIhesu crist him hent
He had a crois of laton ful of stones
And in a glas he had pigges bones
But with thise reliques whan þat he fon̄de
A poure ꝑperson duelling vpon̄ þe lon̄de
Vpon a dai he gat him more moneye
Than þᵗat þe ꝑperson gat in monethes tweye
And þus wᵗith feined flatring and Iapes
He made the ꝑperson and þe peple his apes
But treuli to tellen atte laste
He was in churche anoble ecclesiaste
Wel couthe he rede a lesson or a stori
But alderbest he song an offertori
For wel he wist whan þat songe was songe
He most preche and wel affile his tonge
To wynne siluer as he wel coude
Therfore he songe so merili and loude
Now haue I tolde you sothli in a clause
The estate þe nombre the arrai and eek þe cause
Whi that assembled was this companye
In southwerk / at this gentil hosterie
That hight the tabert fast bi the belle
But now is time to you for to telle
How that we beren vs that ilke night
Whan we were in þat hosterie a light
And after wol I tellen of oure viage
And al the remenaıı̄unt of oure pilgrimage
But ferst I preie yow of youre curtesie
That ye ne rette it noght my vilanye
Thouh that I pleinli speke in þis matere
To tellen here wordes and here chere
Ne though I speke here wordes ꝓpropurli
For this ye knowen as wel as I
Who so shal tellen a tale after aman
He moot reherce as nigh as euer he can
Euerich worde if it be in his charge
Al speke he neủer so rudeli and large
Or elles he moot telle his tale vntrewe
Or feyne thinges and finde wordes newe
He may not spare although he were his brothir
He mot also seie as wel o worde as another
Crist spak himsilf / ful brode in holi writ
And wel ye woot no velenye is itte
Eek plato seiþ who so can him rede
The wordes mot be cosynne to the dede
Also I praie you forgeue it me
Al haue I not set folk in her degre
Here in this tale as þat thei sholde stonde
Mi witte is short ye mai wel vnderstonde
GRete chere made oure ost vs euerichone
And to the soper sette he vs anoon
He serued vs with vitailes at the beste
Stronge was the wyn and wel drinke vs leste
A semeli man oure ost was wᵗithall
For to ben amarchal in an hall
A large man he was with eien stepe
A fairer burgeis is noon in chepe
Bolde of his speche and wis and wel I taught
And of manhode him lakked right naught
Eek þerto he was right a meri man
And after soper pleien he bigan
And spak of mirthe among oþ̉er thinges
Whan that we had made oure rekenynges
And seide thus now lordinges treuli
Ye ben to me welcome right herteli
For bi mi trouþe if þat I shal nat lie
I see not this eer so meri a companye
Atonys in this herberwe as is now
Fain wolde I don you mirþe wist I how
And of a mirþe I am right now be þought
To don you ese and it shal cost nought
YE gon to Cauntirbury god you spede
The blisful martir quyte yow your mede
And wel I woot as ye goon bi the weie
Ye shapen you to talen and to pleie
For treuli comfort ne mirthe is noon
To riden bi the weie dombe as a stoon
And þerfore wol I maken you disport
As I seide erst and don you som comfort
And if you like alle bi oon assent
For to stonden at my Iugement
And for to werken as I shal you seie
To morn̄ whan we riden bi the weie
Now bi my fader soule þat is ded
But ye be mery I wil yeue you my hed
Holde vp your handes without more speche
Oure counsaile was nat longe for to seche
Vs þought it was nat worth to make it wis
And graunted him without more auys
And bad him seie his verdit as him leste
Lordinges qdquod . he now herkeneþ for the beste
But take it not I praie you in disdeigne
This is the point to speke short and pleigne
That eche of you to short wᵗith oure weie
In this viage shal telle tales tweie
To Cantirburyward I mene it so
And homwardes he shal telle other two
Of auentures that whilom haue befalle
And which of you þat bereþ him best of alle
That is to sein that telleþ in this caas
Tales of best sentence and most solaas
Shal haue a soper at oure aldercost
Here in þis place sittyng bi this post
Whan þat we come ageyn from Cantirbury
And for to make you the more mery
I wil my self goodli wᵗith you ride
Right at myn own cost and be your gide
And who so wol my Iugement withseie
Shal paie al þat we spende bi the weie
And if ye vouchesaf that it be soo
Tel me anoon wᵗithout wordes moo
And I wol erli shape me þerfore
This thing was graunted and oure othes swore
With glad hert and praien him also
That he wolde vouchesaf to do soo
And that he wolde be oure gouernour
And of oure tales Iuge and reportour
And set a soper at a certein pris
And we wil reulid ben at his deuys
In high and lough and þus bi oon assent
We ben accorded vnto the Iugement
And thervpon the wyn was fet anoon
We dronken and to reste went eủerychon
Without any lenger taringe
A morwe whan the dai gan to springe
Vp roos oure ost and was oure alde cok
And gadred vs togeder in a flok
And forþ we riden a litel more than pas
Vnto the wateringe of seint Thomas
And þere oure ost gan his hors areste
And seide lordinges herkeneþ if you leste
Ye woot youre forwarde / and I it you recorde
If euensong and mornsong accorde
Lat se now who shal telle þe first tale
As eủer mot I drinke wyn or ale
Who so be rebel to my Iugement
Shal paie for al þat bi the waie is spent
Now drawith cut or that we ferþer twynne
Whiche þat hath the shortest shal begynne
SIre knight qdquod . he mi maist̉er and my lorde
Now drawiþ cut for that is myn accorde
Cometh nere qduod he my ladi prioresse
And ye sire clerk lat be your shamfastnesse
Ne studieþ not lei honde to euery man
Anoon to drawe eủery wight began
And shortli for to tellen as it was
Were it bi auenture or sort or cas
The soþe is this the cut fel to þe knight
Of which ful bliþe and glad was eủery wight
And tellen he most his tale as it was resoıı̄un
Bi forward and bi composicioıı̄un
As ye han herde what nedeþ wordes moo
And whan this goodman sauh þᵗat it was soo
As he that wis was and obedient
To kepen his forward bi his fre assent
He seide sithen I shal begynne the game
What wolcome be the cut / in godis name
Now lat vs ride and herkeneþ what I seie
And wᵗith that worde we riden forþ oure weie
And he began with right amery chere
His tale anoon and seide as ye mai here .
HEre endeþ þe prolog of this book .
HEre begynneth þe knightes tale .
Whilom as olde stories tellen vs
Ther was a duk that hight Theseus
Of Athenes he was lord and gouernour
And in his time such a conquerour
That gretter was noon vnder the sonne
Ful many a riche contre had he wonne
[2ar]The Prologues .
When that Aprill with his shoures sote
The drought of March had perced the rote
And bathed euery vaine in soche licoure
Of which vertue engendred is the floure
When Zephirus eke with his sote breth
Espired hath euery holte and heth
The tendre croppes and the yong sonne
Hath in the Ram halfe his course yronne
And smale foules maken melodie
That slepen all night with open eye
So priketh hem nature in her courage
Than longen folke to go on pilgrimage
And palmers to seken straunge strondes
To serue halowes couthe in sondrie londes
And specially fro euery Shires ende
Of Englonde to Canterbury they wende
The holy blisful Martyr for to seke
That hem hath holpen when they were seke .
YT befell that season on a day
In Southwarke at the Taberd as I lay
Redie to go in my pilgrimage
To Canterbury with deuoute courage
That night was come into that hostelry
Well nine and twenty in a company
Of sondrie folke by auenture yfall
In feliship / and pilgrimes were they all
That toward Canterbury wolde ride
The chambres and stables weren wide
And well weren they eased at the best
And shortly whan the sonne was at rest
So had I spoken with hem euerychone
That I was of her feliship anone
And made forward early for to rise
To take our way ther as I you deuise
But netheles while I haue time and space
Or that I further in this tale pace
Me thinke it accordaunt to reason
To tell you all the condicion
Of eche of hem so as it semed me
And which they were / of what degre
And eke in what araye that they were in /
And at a knight then will I first begin .
¶ Þe prologues .
A knight there was ⁊and that a worthie man
That fro the time that he first began
To riden out / he loued Cheualrie
Trouthe / honoure / fredome and curtesie
Full worthy was he in his Lordes warre
And thereto had he ridden no man so farre
As well in Christendome as in Hethinesse
And euer had honoure for his worthinesse
At Alisaundre he was when it was won
Full ofte time he had the bourde begon
Abouen all nations in Pruce
In Lettowe had he ridden and in Luce
No christen man so ofte of his degree
In Garnade at the siege had he be
At Algezer / ⁊and riden in Belmarie
At Leyes was he / and also at Satalye
When they were wonne / ⁊and in the great see
At many a noble armye had he be
At mortall batailles had he ben fiftene
And foughten for our faith at Tramissene
In listes thries and aye slaine his foe
This ilke worthie knight had ben alsoe
Somtime with the Lord of Palathie
Ayenst another Hethen in Turkie
And euermore he had a soueraine prise
And though he was worthie he was wise
And of his sporte as meke as is a maide
He neuer yet no vilanye ne saide
In all his life / vnto no maner wight
He was a very perfite gentil knight
¶ For to tell you of his araye
His horse were good / but he was nothing gaye
Of fustyan he wered a gippon
All besmottred with his Haubergion
For he was late come fro his viage
And wente for to done his Pilgrimage
With him ther was his sonne a yong squire
A louer and a lustie Bachelere
With his lockes crull as they were laid in presse
Of twenty yere of age he was as I gesse
Of his stature he was of euen length
And wonderly deliuer and of great strength
And he had be somtime in chiuauchie
In Flaundres / in Artois / and in Picardie
And borne him well / as of so litel space
In hope to stande in his Ladies grace
Embroded was / as it weren a mede
All ful of freshe flowres / white and rede
Singing he was / or floiting al the daye
He was freshe as is the moneth of Maye
Short was his gowne / with sleues long ⁊and wide
Wel coude he sitte on a horse and fayre ride
He coude songes make / and wel endite
Iuste and eke daunce / portray and wel write
So hote he loued / that by nighter tale
He slept no more then doth a Nightingale
Curteis he was / lowly and seruysable
And kerfte before his Fader at the table .
A Yeoman had he and seruauntes no mo
Al that time / for him liste to ride so
And he was clad in cote and hode of grene
A shefe of Pecocke arowes bright ⁊and shene
Vnder his belt he bare ful thriftely
Wel coude he dresse his tackle yomanly
His arowes drouped not with fethers lowe
And in his hand he bare a mightie bowe
A notte heed had he / with a browne visage
Of wodde crafte / wel couth he al the vsage
Vpon his arme he bare a gay bracer
And by his side a swerde and a bokler
And on that other side a gay daggere
Harneised well / and sharpe as pointe of spere
A Christofer on his brest of siluer shene
An horne he bare / the baudricke was of grene
A foster was he southly as I gesse
There was also a None a Prioresse
That of her smiling was simple ⁊and coye
Her greatest othe was by saint Loye
And she was called dame Eglentine
Ful wel she song tho seruice deuine
Entewned in her voice ful semely
And french she spake ful fetously
After the scole of Stratforde at Bowe
For Frenche of Paris was to her vnknowe
At meate was she well ytaught with all
She let no morsel fro her lippes fall
Ne wete her fingers in her sauce depe
Wel couth she cary a morsel and wel kepe
That no drop ne fel vpon her brest
In curtesy was set ful moche her lest
Her ouerlip wiped she so clene