Ln · Lincoln, Cathedral Library MS 110=A.4.18
Canterbury Tales Project.
talesofcanterbury.org/GP/xml/transcripts/Ln/
[6r]
And pouder marchaunt tart and gallyngale
Wel coude he knowe a drauȝt of londoıı̄un ale
He coude roste and sethe ⁊and boyle ⁊and friȝe
Make mortrews and well bake a pie
But gret harm was it / as þoute me
For on his shene amormal had he
For blankmanger mad he with the beste
¶ A shipman was ther wonnynge fer bi west
A Shippman
For ouȝt I wot he was of Der Dertemouthe
He rod vp on arounci as he couthe
In a goune of faleynge to þe kne
And a dagger hangid bi a lace had he
A boute it his vndir vndir his arme adoūn
The hote somer had mad his visage broūn
And certeinli he was a good felawe
Ful many a drauȝt of wyn̄ hadde he drawe
Fro burdeux ward / while the chapman slepe
Off nyce conscience took he no kepe
For yef that he fauȝte and hadde the hiȝer hand
By water he sente hem home into eủery land
But of his craftes to rekene wel the tides
His stremes and his daungeres him besides
His harborwe and his mone and his lodemanage
Thernas non suche fro hulle to Cartage
Hardi he was and wise I vndirtake
With manye atempest hadde his berd be shake
He knew the hauens as þey were
Fro Gotlond to þe cape of fene stere
And eủery Crike in britaigne ⁊and in spayne
Hys barge i cleped is mawdaleyne
¶ With vs ther was a dottour of fisik
Doctor phisik
In al this world was non hym lyk
To speke of phisik or of surgerie
For he was gronded in astronomie
He kepte his pacient a ful gret del
In houris bi his magic naturel
Well coude he of fortune ascendent
Off his ymages for his pacient
He knewe the cause of eueri maladie
Were it of hote or cold or moist or drye
And where hit engendred or of what humour
He was a werry ꝑparfite practisour
The cause i knowe and \of/ the cause þᵉ rote
Anon̄ he gaff þe sik man his bote
Wel redy he hadde his apoticaries
To sende his dragges and his lituarich
For eủery of hym mad othir for to wynne
Hir frenship was not new to begynne
Wel knew he the old Esculapius
And discorⁱdes and ek Rufus
Old ypocras haley and galyen
Serapioıı̄un Razis and auycen̄
Auerois damascien and Constantyn̄
Bernard catisden̄ and Gilbertyn
Of his diot mesurabel was he
For hit was no suꝑperfluite
But of gret norisshinge and digestible
His studie was but litil on the bible
In sang ueyn and peers clad was he al
Wᵗith taffata and wᵗith sendal.
ȝet he was but esy of dispense
kepte þᵗat he wan in pestelence
or gold in phesik is acordia
Therfore he loued gold in special
The wyf of reap̉er
¶ A good wyf ther was biside Bathe But she was sumdel deeff and that was schaþᵉ
Off cloth makynge she had suche haunt
She passed hem of ypris and of gaunt
In all that parsh wiff was ther nōmn
That to the offeringe bifore hir shuld gōn
And ief ther dide serteyn so wroth was she
That she was out of all Charite
Hir couer cheues ful fyne were of ground
I dorste swere they were worth ⁊and pound
That on sonday were vp on hir hed.
Hir hosen weren of scarlet red
Full streite ydrawe and shoos ful moist ⁊and newe
Bold was hir face and faire and red of hewe
She was a worthy wom̄an all hir lyue
Husbondes att chirche dor͗e she had fyue
With outen othir compaigne in youthe
But þer of nedeth not to speke as nowthe
And thries hadde she be at Ierusalem
She hadde passed many a stronge strem
At Rome she hadde ben and at boloigne
In Galeis at seynt Iame and at coloigne
She couthe meche of wanderynge by þᵉ way
Gat couthed she was soth for to say
Vp on an amblere esili she satt
W[…]ympled wel and on hir hed an hatt
As brod as ony bokeler or ᵃtarge
A foot mantil about hir hepes large
And on her heles apeyre spures sharpe
In felawschippe wel couthe she langage ⁊and carpe
Off Remedies of loue she couthe perchaunce
For she couthe of þe art the old daunce
Rector
¶ A good man was ther of religioıı̄un
And was a poure ꝑparson of a toune
But riche he was of holy thouȝt ⁊and werk
He was also alerned man a Clerk
That Cristes gospel trewly dede preche
Hys parisshens deuoutely wolde he teche
Benigne he was and woundir diligent
In aduersite also full pacient
And so was he preued many sithes
Ful loth was hym to cursse for his tithes
But rathir wold he ȝeue out of doute
Vn to his pore parisshens aboute
Off his offerynge and ek of his substaunce
He couthe in litil thyng haue suffisaunce
Wide was his parssh and houses ferre a sondre
But he sparet not for rayn ne thondre
In sikenesse ne in mishiff to visite
The ferrest in his parsh miche ne lite
Vp on his feet and in his hond a staff
This noble ensaumple to his sheep he ȝaff
That firste he wrouȝte and afterward he tawȝte
Out of the gospell he tho wordis rauȝte
And ek this figure he added mor ther to
That if gold ruste what shal Iren do
For ief a preest be foul on whom we truste
No woundir is thouȝ alewed man ruste
And shame it is if þe prest take kepe
A shetene shepherde ⁊and a clene sheepe
Wel auȝt a prest ensaumple for to yeue
Bi his clennesse how his sheep shuld leue
He ne set not his benefice to hire
Ne lett not his sheep acombred in þᵉ mire
Ne ranne not to londoıı̄un to seynt Poules
To geten hym a chauntrie for soules
Or with a bretherhed to be wiþ holde
But dwelte at hom and kepte wel his folde
So that no wolff make it not miscarie
He was a shepherde and not amercynarie
And thouȝh he holy were ⁊and vertuous
He was not to sinful men to dispitous
Ne of his speche daungerous ne deigne
But in his techynge discret and benigne
To drawe folk to heuēm by faiernesse
Bi good ensaunple that was his besinesse
But it were ony ꝑpersone obstinat
What so he were of high or lowe estat
Hym wolde he snybbe sharpely for þᵉ nons
A bettir prest y trowe that nowher non is
He waited after no pomp̄e ne reuerence
Ne maked hym a spiced conscience
But cⁱstes lore and his aposteles twelue
He taughte / but firste he folwed it hymselue
¶
Aspiola.
Wiþ h̄y þer was aplow man þᵗat was his brothyr That had i lad of donge ful many a fothir
A trewe swynker and a good was he
Leuynge in pees and in parfit charite
God loued he best with all his herte
At all tymes þow he gamed or smerte
And than his neigh bore riȝt as hym selue
He wolde thressche an þer to dike and delue
For cⁱstes sake to eueri pore wight
With outen hire if it lay in his migh
His tithes payed he ful fayre and wel
Bothe of his ꝓpropre swynke and catel
In a tabard he rode vp on a mere
¶ Ther was also a Reue and a millere
A Reue millere
A sompnor and a pardoner͗e also
Amaunciple and my self ther were no mo
The millere was astout carl for þᵉ nones
Ful bigge he was of braıı̄une and bones
That preued well oueral ther he cam
At wrestelynge he wolde haue a wey þᵉ ram
He was short shuldred a ꝓpropre þik knarre
Ther was no dore that he ne wolde heue of harre
Or breke it with arynnynge ayens his heed
His berd as ony sowe or fox was red
And therto brod as it were a spade
Vp on his coppe riȝt of his nose he hade
A werte / and ther on stood a tuft of heres
Red as the bresteles of a sowes ers
His nosethrillis blak were and wyde
A swerd and a bokeler͗e he bare bi his side
His mouth as large was as a gret forneys
He was a gred Iangelere and a goliardeys
And that was most of synne and of harlotrie
Wel coude he stele corn̄ and ek tolle thrie
And ȝett he hadde a thombe of gold ꝑparde
A whit cote and a blew hod wered he
A bagge pipe well couthe he Blowe ⁊and soun̄
An ther with he brouȝte vs out of toune
A Gentil maunciple ther was of þe temple
A maunciple
Off wheche achatours me myȝt take ensaumple
For to be wis in beynge of vetaile
For whethir he payde or tok bitayle
Alwey he awayted to his achate
That he was afore and in good estate
Now is nat this a ful fayre grace
That suche alewed mans witte shal pace
The wysdom of an heep of lered men
Of maistres had he more thanē thries ten
That were of lawe expert an curious
Off wheche ther weren a dozen in þᵗat hous
Worthi to be stewardes of rente and lond
With ony lord that is in Ingelond
To make hym leue by his ꝓpropre gode
In hounore detteles but if he were wode
Or lyue as scarcely he can desire
And able for to helpe all ashire
In ony caas that myȝt falle or happe
And ȝett þis maunciple sett her alder cappe
reue
This Reue was a sclendir colerik man His berd was shaue as nyȝe as euer he can
His here was bi his eres ful round I shorn
His tope was dokked like a prest biforn̄
Ful long were his legges and ful lene
Lik a staff þer was no calf sene
Wel couthe he kepe a gerner and a bynne
Ther was non auditour þat couthe on hym wyn̄e
Wel knewe he bi þe drowȝte and bi þᵉ rayn
The ȝildigge of his seed and of his greyne
His lordes sheep his neet and his dayrie
His swyn his hors his stoor and his pultrie
Was holi in his Reues gouernȳgge
And bi the couenaunt þe rekenynge
Sith that his lord was twynti ȝeres of age
Ther couthe noman hym brynge in arerage
Ther was no baile ne herde ne othir hyne
That he ne knewe his sliȝt ne his coūyne
They were agast of hym as of þe deeth
His wonnynge was full fayre vpon an heth
With grene trees shadwe was hys place
He couthe wel better thanne his lord purchace
Ful riche he was astored priuili
His lord he coude plese subtely
To yeue and lene of his owne good
And haue a thank and ek a cote and an hood
In youthe he hadde lerned a gode myster
He was a ful good write a Carpenter
This Reue was vp on̄ a wel good stoot
That was a pomli gray and hiȝt scot
A longe surcote of peers vp on he he hadde
And bi his siþe he bare a rusty blade
Off northfolke was this Reue of wheche I telle
Beside a toune men clepe baldiswelle
Tucked he was as affrere aboute
And euer he rod þe hendereste of oure route
Somnour
¶ A sompnoure was þer with vs in þat place
That hadde ared Cherubynnes face
For sauceflem he was wiþ eyen narwe
As hote he was and as lecherous as is asparwe
With scaled browes blake and pillid berde
Of his visage Childeren were a ferd
Ther nas quiksiluer litarge ne brimston
Boras ceruce ne oile of tarter non
Ne oynement þat wolde clense orbite
That him myȝt helpe of his whelkis white
Ne of þᵉ knobbes sittynge on his chekes
Wel loued he garlik oynoıı̄uns ⁊and eke likes
And for to drinke stronge wyn red as blood
Thanne wolde he speke and crie as he were wod
And whanne that he wel dronken had þᵉ wyne
That wolde he speke no word but latyne
A fewe termes he hadde two or three
That he hadde lerned out of sum decre
No woundir is for he it herde alday
And ek ye knowe wel þᵗat a Iay
Can clepe watte as wel as can þᵉ pope
But who so coude him in oþir thing grope
Than̄e had he spent all his philosophie
Ay questio que iuris wlde he crie
He was agentil harlot and a kynde
A betir felawe shuld men nowher fynde
He wolde suffre for a quarte of wyne
A good felawe to haue his concubyne
Atwelue month and excuse him att fulle
Ful pⁱriuili afinche cowþe he pulle
And if he fond owher a good felawe
He wolde techen hem to haue non awe
In suche caas off þᵉ erche dekens curs
But if mannes sowle were in his purs
For in his purs he shall pounyshed be
Purs is þe erche dekens helle seide he
But well y wot he lied riȝt in dede
Off curssynge ouȝte eủery man to drede
For curssynge woll sle riȝt as a soylynge sauyþ
And also were him of a significaunt
In daunger hadde he att his owne wille
The yonge chgerles of his diocise loude or still
And knewe hir conseill and was all hir red
A garlond had he set vp on̄ his hed
As gret as it were vp on̄ an ale stake
A bokeler͗e hadde he mad him of a cake
¶ With hem þer was agentil ꝑpardoner
Ꝑpardoner
Off rouncivale his frend and his comper That streiȝt was come from þe court of rome
Well loude he song com hedir loue to me
This sompnor bar to hym a stiff burdoıı̄un
Was neuer tromppe half of so gret a soıı̄un
This ꝑpardoner hadde heer as ȝelwe as wax
But smoþe it hyng as doth astreke of flax
Bi vnces hynge his lokkis þᵗat he hadde
And ther with he his shulders ouerspradde
But thynne it lay bi culpoıı̄uns bi on ⁊and on̄
But hode for Iolite wered he non
For it was trusset vp in his wallette
Hit semed he rode all of þᵉ newe Iette
Disheuele saue his cappe he rod all bare
Suche glarynge yen had he as an hare
A vernicle hadde he sewed vp on his cappe
His walet lay before him in his lappe
Brett ful of ꝑpardoıı̄un come from rome all hote
A voys he hadde as small as hath a gote
No berde hadde he ne neuer shuld haue
As smothe it was as it were late ishaue
I trowe he were a gildinge or a mare
But of his craft fro Berewik in to ware
Ne was þer suche an othir ꝑpardonere
For in his male he bare apilwe bere
Wheche he seide þat was our͗e ladi vaile
He seide he hadde agobbet of asayle
That seynt petʳ hadde whanne he wente
Vp on þe see til oure lord IħuIhesu crist him hente
He hadde a cros of laton ful of stones
And in a glas he hadde pigges bones
But wiþ these relekis whanne he fond
A poure ꝑperson dwellynge vp on lond
Vp on day he gat more monye
Thanne ꝑperson gate in monthis tweye
And þus wiþ feyned flaterie and Iapes
He made þe ꝑperson and þe peple his apes
But truly for to tellen att laste
He was in chirche anoble ecclesiaste
Wel coude he rede apistil or a stori
But alderbest he song an offertori
For wel he wiste whane þat song was songe
He moste preche and wel enfile his tonge
To wynne siluer as he wel coude
Ther fore he song þe merilier and loude
¶ Now haue y soteli told yow in a clause
The estate þe araye þe noumbre and þe cause
Whi þat assembled was þis compaignye
Atte southwerk att þis gentil hostelerie
That hiȝtte þe tabbard biside þe belle
But now is tyme for yow to telle
How þat we bare vs þat firste nyȝt
Whanne we were in þat osterie a liȝt
And after wil I telle of oure viage
And all þe remenaunt of oure pilgrimage
But first I prey Iow of youre curtesie
That ȝe ne rette it not in velonye
Thow I pleynly speke of þe matere
To telle yow her wordis and her chere
Ne þowȝ I speke her wordis properly
For þis knowe ȝe as wel as I
Who so shal telle atale aftir aman
He moste reherse as nigh as euer he can
Eueri word yef it be in your͗e charge
Al speke he neuer so rudely noþur so large
Or ell he moste telle his tale vntrewe
Or feyne þinges or feynde wordis newe
He may not spare þowȝ he were his broþur
He moste as wel seye oo word as an othur
Crist spak hym self full brode in holy writt
And wel ȝe wote no velonie is hit
Eke plato seith who so can him rede
The wordes mote be cosen to þᵉ dede
Also y prey iow foȝeue it me
Al haue y not set folk in her degree
Here in þis tale as þei shuld stonde
Mi witte is short ȝe may wel vndirstonde
¶ Gret chere mad oure ost vs eủerychone
And to þe soper he sette vs anone
He serued vs wel and faire wᵗith þᵉ beste
Stronge was þe wyne ⁊and wel to drinke vs leste
A semeli man was oure ost with alle
For to ben a Marchall in an halle
A large man he was with yen stepe
A fairer burgeys was not in shepe
Bold of his speche wis and wil y tauȝt
And of manhod him wanted nauȝt
Ek þer to he was ameri man
And after soper pleyen he began
And spak of merþe among oþer þinges
Whanne he hadde mad our͗e rekenynges
And seide þus now lordynges trewly
Ye ben to me ryȝt welcome hertely
For bi my trouþe if þat I shal not lie
I siȝe not this ȝer so merie a compaignie
Attones / in þis her borwe as is now
Fayn̄ wolde y do yow mirthe wiste y how
And of a merþe I am ryȝt wel beþought
To do yow ese and it schall coste you nouȝt
Ye gon to Caunturbury god yow spede
The blisful martir quyte yow your͗e mede
And well y wot as ye gon by þᵉ wey
Ye shapen yow to talen and to pley
For treuly comfort ne merþe is nōn
To ryde by þe wey as dōmm as a stōn
And þerfore wil I make yow disport
As I sede arst / And do yow some comfort
And yf yow likith all bi on assent
For to stonden att my Iugement
And for to werken as y shal yow seye
To morwe whan ye ryden bi þᵉ weye
Now bi my faders soule that is ded
But ye meri be y will yeue you myn hed
Holde vp your͗e honde with outen more speche
Oure conseill was not longe for to seche
It semed not vs to make it uise
And graunted þer to wᵗith owten more avise
And bad hym seye his ver dit as him leste
Lordyngꝭes quod he harkenyþ for þᵉ beste
But take it not in I prey yow in disdayn
This is þe poynt to speke it short and playn
That eueri of yow to shorten wᵗith his weye
In his viage shal telle tales tweye
To canturbery ward I mene it so
And homward shal tellen oþer two
Off auentures þat whilome haue hym befalle
And whiche of him þat berith him best off alle
That is to seyn þat tellith in þis caas
Tales of best sentence and most solas
Shal haue a sopper at oure alþer coste
In this place here sittynge bi þis poste
Whanne þat we come ageyn̄ fro caıı̄unturbery
And for to make yow the more mery
I wil my silf goodly with yow ryde
Riȝt at myn owne cost and be youre gide
And who so wil my Iugement wiþ seye
Shal paye al þat we spende bi þe weye
And ȝf ie wouche sauf þat it be so
Telle me anon with outen wordis mo
And y will erly shape þerfore
These þynges were graunted and oure oþes swore
Wiþ glad herte and prayen him also
That he wouchesauf for to do so
And þat he wolde Be oure gouernoure
And of oure tales Iuge and reportoure
And sette a soper at/ a certeyn pris
And we wolde reuled be atte his deuys
In hiȝ an lowe and þus by bi on assent/
We ben acordet to his Iugement
And þer vp on þe wyne was fett anon̄
We dronken and to reste wente eủerychon
Wiþ outen ony lenger tarynge
Amorwe whanne þᵉ day ganne sprynge
Vp ros oure ost and was oure alder cok
And gaderde vs to geder on a flok
And forþ we reden alitil mor þe paas
Vn to þᵉ waterynge of Seynt Thomas
And þer oure ost be gan his hors to areste
And seide lordes harkeneþ if ie leste
Ȝe wot youre forward and I ȝow it recorde
Yeff euesonge and morwe songe acorde
Lat se now who shal telle þe firste tale
As euer I mot drynke wyne or ale
Who so be rebel to my Iugement/
Shalle paye for all þat bi þe weye is spent
Now drawe we cutte or þat we ferþ̉er twynne
He þat hath þe shortest shal begynne
Sir knyȝt quod he my maister and my lord
Now drawith cutte for þat is myn acord
Comyþ ner quod he my lady prioresse
And lat be ȝe sir clerk your͗e shamefastnesse
Ne studieth not ley on hond euery man
To drawe anon euery man bigan
And shortli for to tellen as it was
Were it bi auenture or scort or caas
The soþe it is þe kut fel to þe knyȝt
Off wheche ful bliþe and glad was eủery wiȝt
And tellen he moste as it was reson
By forward and bi composicion
As ȝe haue herd what nediþ wordis mo
And whanne þe godeman saw þat it was so
As he þat wis was / and obedient/
To kepe his forward bi his fre assent
He seide sone I shall biginne þe game
What welcome bi þe cutt in goddis name
Now late vs ride ⁊and herkene what y seie
And with þat word we riden forth our͗e weye
And he began wiþ riȝt ameri chere
His tale anon and seide as ȝe may here
Here endith the ꝓproheme of alle þᵉ tale
And begynneth the knyghtes tale
Whilom as olde stories tellen vs
Ther was a duc þat hight Theseus
Off atthenes he was lord ⁊and gouernour
And in his tyme suche a noble conquerour
That gretter non was vnder þe sonne
Ful many a contre hadde he wonne
What with his wisdom and wᵗith his chiualerie
He conquerde þᵉ regne of femenye
That whilome was cleped sithia
And wedded þe quene ypolita
And brouȝte hir home wᵗith hym in to his contre
With moche glorie and gret solempnite
And ek hir ȝonge suster Emelie
And þus with victorie and melodie
Lat y þis noble duc to athenes ride
And all his ost in armes him beside
And certis if it not long to here
I wold haue told yow fully þe manere