Pn · Oxford, Bodleian Library, Douce 218 (Richard Pynson)
Canterbury Tales Project.
talesofcanterbury.org/GP/xml/transcripts/Pn/
[a2r]
whan that Aprille with his showres sote
The droughte of marche hath persed the rote
And bathed euery veyne in suche licoure
Of whiche vertue engendred is the floure
Whanne zepharus eke with his sote brethe
Enspired hath in euery holte and hethe
The tendre croppes and the yong sonne
Hathe in the ram half his cours y ronne
And smale foules make melodye
That slepyn al nyght with open eye
So priketh theym nature in theire corages
Than longyn folke to goon on pilramages
And palmers to seche straunge strondes
To serue halowes couthe in sondry londes
And specially fro euery shyres ende
Of englond to Caunterburye they wende
The holy blisful martir for to seke
That theym hath holpyn when they wer seke
byfel in that season on a day
In suthewerke at the taberde as I lay
Redy to wenden on my pylgramage
To caunterburye with deuoute corage
That nyght came into that hostelrye
Wele nyne and twenty in a company
Of sondry folk by auenture y falle
In felauship and pilgrames were they alle
That toward caunterbury wolden ryde
The chambrys and the stables were wyde
And wele were we eased at the best
And shortly when the sonne was at rest
So hadde I spoken with theym euirichone
That I was of their felauship anone
And made forwarde erly for to ryse
To take oure wey there as I you deuyse
But neuirtheles whiles I haue tyme and space
Or that I ferther in this tale pace
Me thinketh it accordant to reason
To telle you al the condicion
Of eche of theym 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 thenne I wille begynne
aknyght there was a worthy man
That fro the tyme that he first began
To riden oute . he loued cheualrye
Trouthe and honoure fredom and curtesye
Ful worthy he was in his lordes werre
And therto hadde he ryden no man ferre
And as wele in cristendome as in hethnesse
And euir hadde honoure for his worthynesse
At alisaundre he was when it was wonne
Fulle ofte tyme he hadde the borde begonne
Abouen alle nations in price
In lettowe hadde he reysed and in Ruse
In garnade at the sege eke hadde he be
At algeyir and ryden in Belmarye
At leyeys was he and eke at Satalye
Whan they were wonne and in the grete see
At many a noble arme hadde he be
At mortayl batailies hadde he be fyftene
And foughe for oure feyth at Tramyssene
In listes thryes and ay sleyn his foo
This ylke worthy knyght hadde be also
Som tyme with the lorde of palathye
Ageyn a nother hethen man in Turkye
And euirmore he hadde a souerayn price
And though he was worthy he was wise
And of his sporte as meke as a mayde
He neuir yete no vilanye he said
In alle his lyf vnto no maner wight
He was a very gentyl parfite knyght
For to telle you of his arraye
His horse were gode but he was nat gaye
Of fustian he wered a gyppyon
Alle be smered with his habergeon
For he was late come fro his vyage
And sent for to do his pilgramage
Wyth him there was his sonne a yong squyer
Alouer and a lusty bacheler
With lokes crulle as they were leyde in presse
Of twenty yere of age he was y gesse
Of his stature he was of euene lenght
And wonderly delyuer and of grete strenght
And he hadde be somtyme in cheuauchye
In flaundres . in Artoyse and in pycardye
And borne him wele as of a lytel space
In hope to stonden in his ladies grace
Enbrowded was he as it were a mede
Alle fulle of fresshe floures white and rede
Synginge he was or floyting alle the daie
He was as fresshe as is the moneth of may
Short was his gowne with sleuys long and wyde
Wele coude he sitte on hors and therto faire ryde
He coude songes make and wele endite
Iouste and daunce portraye and eke write
So hote he loued that by nyhgter tale
He slepte nomore than the nyghtingale
Curteys he was lowly and seruysable
He carft heforne his fadre at the table
a yeman hadde he and seruauntes nomo
At that tyme for he list to ryde soo
And he was cladde in cote and hode of grene
A sheef of pecok arowes bright and shene
Vndre his belt he bare ful thriftely
Wele coude he dresse his takyl yomanly
His arowes drouped nat with fethers lowe
And in his hond he bare a mighty bowe
A not hede he hadde with a broune visage
Of wodemannes craft coude be alle the vsage
Vpon his arme he bare a gay bracer
And by his syde a suerde and a bokeler
And on that other side a gay dagger
Harnesed wele and sharp as poynte of spere
A cristofer on his brest of siluer shene
An horne he baar the bawdryk was of grene
A foster was he sothly as I gesse
tHer was also a nonne a prieresse
That of her smyling was symple and koy
Her gretest othe was by seint loy
And she was clepyd dame Eglentyn
Fule wele she songe the seruice dyuine
Entoyned in her voye fulle semely
And frenche she spake fulle fetously
After the scole of stratford at the bowe
For frenshe of Parice was to her vnknowe
At mete wele taught was she with alle
She lete no morsel fro her lyppes falle
Ne wette her fyngers in her sauce depe
Wele coude she carye a morselle of mete
That no drope fel vp on her breest
In curteysee was sette fulle mekyl her lest
Her ouerlippe wiped she so clene
That in her cuppe ther was no ferthing sene
Of grece . whan she hadde dronke her draught
Fulle semely after her mete she raught
And sekirly she was of grete disporte
Of plesaunce and amyable of porte
And peyned her to countrefete chere
Of courte and to be stately of manere
And to be holde digne of reuerence
But for to speke of her conscience
She was so cheritable and so pyteous
She wolde wepe if that she sawe a mouse
Kaught in trappe if it were dede or bledde
Of smale houndes hadde she that she fedde
With roost flesshe or mylke or wastel brede
But sore wept she if any of theym were dede
Or if men smote theym with yerde smert
And alle was conscience and tendre herte
Fulle semely her wympyl pynched was
Her nose tretise her eyen grey as glas
Her mouth smal and therto soft and rede
But sykerly she hadde a faire forehede
It was almost a spanne brode I trowe
For hardly she was nat vnder growe
Fulle fetyce was her cloke as I was waar
Of smalle coralle aboute her arme she bare
A peyre of bedes . gauded alle with grene
And there on heng a broche fulle shene
On whiche first was writte a crowned A
And after that Amor vincit omnia
A nother nonne with her hath she
That was her chapeleyn and prests thre
a Monke ther was fayr for the maistre
An oute ryder that loued wele venorye
A manly man to be an abbote able
Fulle many a deynte horse hadde he in stable
And when he rode men myght his bridel here
Gyngling and whislyng in the winde clere
And eke as lowde as doth the chapel belle
There as this lorde was kepar of the celle
The reule of seint Maure and of seint Benet
Bicause he held it somwhat olde and streyte
This ilke monke lete olde thinges pace
And helde after the new worlde the space
He yaf nat of the texte a pulled henne
That seyth that hunters be nat holy men
Ne that a monke when he is rechelesse
Is lyke to a fisshe when it is waterlesse
This is to sey a monke oute of a cloystre
But that texte helde he nat worth an oystre
And I sey that his opunyon was gode
What shulde he studye and make him wode
Vpon a boke alwey in cloystre to poure
Or swynke with his hondes and laboure
As austyn biddeth how shulde the worlde be serued
Let Austyn haue his swynke to him reserued
Therfore he was a prycasour a right
Grehoundes he hadde as swift as foule on flight
Of pryking and of huntyng for the hare
Was alle his lust for no cost wolde he spare
I sawe his sleues purfyled at the honde
With grice and that the fynest of a londe
And to fasten his hode vndre the chynne
He hadde of golde wrought a curyous pynne
A loue knotte in the gretter ende ther was
His hede was balled which shone as glas
And eke his face as he hadde been anoynte
He was a lorde fatte and in gode poynte
His eyen steep and rolling in his hede
That stemyd as a furneys of a lede
His botes sowple his hors in grete estate
Nowe certeynly he was a fayre prelate
He was nat pale as a fourepyned goost
A fat swan loued he best of any roste
His palfrey was as broune as a bery
a frere ther was a wanton and a merey
A limytoure and a ful solemne man
In alle the ordres foure is none that can
Somoche of dalyaunce and faire langage
He hadde made fulle many a faire mariage
Of yong wymmen at his owen cost
Vnto his ordre he was a noble post
Fulle welbeloued and fulle famylier was he
With frankleyns ouer al in his contre
And eke with worthy yemen of the towne
For he hadde power of confessioun
And seid him self more than a curate
And of his ordre he was licenciat
Fulle suetely herd he confession
And plesaunt with his absolucion
And an easy man to gyue penaunce
There he wiste to haue gode pitaunce
For vnto a poure ordure for to gyue
Is signe that a man is wele y shryue
For if he yaf he durst wele make a vaunt
He wist that a man was repentaunt
Many a man so hard is of herte
He may nat wepe though he sore smerte
Therfore in stede of wepyng and prayers
Men moste yeue siluer to the poure freres
His tepat was y farsed ful of knyues
And with pynnes to gyue faire wyues
And certeyne he hadde a mery note
Merely cowde he syng and pley at the rote
Of yeddinges he bare vtterly the price
His necke was white as the floure delice
Therto stronge he was as a champyoun
And knewe the tauernes wele in euery towne
And euery osteler and tapstere
Better than a lazar or a begge stere
For vnto suche a worthy man as he
Accordeth nat as by his faculte
To haue of suche seke lazers acqueyntaunce
It is nat honest it may nat auaunce
For to dele with suche poraille
But with riche and sellers of vytaille
And ouer alle there as richesse shulde aryse
Curteys he was and lowly of seruice
Ther was no man no where so vertuous
He was the best beggar in his house
And yaue a certeyne ferme for the graunt
Noon of his brethern cam in his haunt
For though a widowe hadde nat a shoo
So plesaunt was his in principio
Yet wolde he haue a ferthing or he went
His purchace was better than his rent
And berke he cowde as it were a whelpe
In loue daies there coude he mekel helpe
For there he nas lyke a cloystrer
With a thredebare cope as a poure frere
But he was lyke a maister or a pope
Of double worstede was his semy cope
That rounde was as a belle oute of presse
Somwhat he lisped for his wantownesse
To make his englisshe swete vpon his tonge
And his harpyng when he hadde y sunge
His eyen twenkled in his hede a right
As doon the sterres in the frosty nyght
This worthy frere was called huberd
a Marchant ther was with a forked berd
In motley on his horse high he sat
Vpon his hede a flaundres beuer hat
His botes claspid feyre and fetously
His reasons he spack ful solempnely
Shewing alwey the encresse of his wynyng
He wolde the see were kepte for any thinge
Betwixte Middelburgh and orewelle
Wele cowde he in his eschaunge selle
This worthy man his witte ful wele besette
Ther wist no wight that he was in dette
So estately he was of gouernaunce
With his bargaynes and with his cheuesaunce
For sothe he was a worthy man with alle
But sothe to say I not how men him calle
a Clerke ther was of Oxenforde also
That vnto logik had longe y go
And lene was his horse as a rake
And he was nat right fat I vndertake
But loked holowe and therto sobirly
Ful thredebare was his ouerest courtby
For he hadde goten him yet no benefice
Ne was nat worldly to haue an office
For he hadde leuyr to haue at his beddys hede
Twenty bokes I clad in white and rede
Of aristotle and of his philosophie
Than robes riche or fedyl or sawtre
But alle be that he was a philosophre
Yet hadde he but lytel golde in cofre
But alle that he might of his frendes hent
On bokes and on lernyng he it spent
And besily gan for the soules praye
Of theyme that yaue him wher withe to scolaye
Of studye toke he moost cure and hede
Nat a worde spake he more than nede
And that was seyde in fourme and reuerence
Shorte and quicke and ful of high sentence
Sownyng moral vertue was his speche
And gladly wolde he lerne and gladly teche
a Sergeaunt of lawe waar and wise
Was there that oft hadde be at the paruise
That was also fulle riche of excellence
Discrete he was and of grete reuerence
He semyd suche his wordes were so wise
Iustice he was ful ofte in assise
By patent and by playn cōmmyssioun
For his science and his high renoun
Of fees and robes had he many one
So grete a purchasour was there nowhere none
Al was fee symple to hym in effecte
His purchace might nat be to him suspecte
No where so besy a man as he ther nas
And yet he semed besyer than he was
In termes had he caas and domes alle
That fro the tyme of king william were falle
Therto he coude endite and make a thing
Ther coude no wight pynche at his writing
And euery statute coude he pleyn by rote
He rode but homely in a myddel cote
Y girthed with a seynt of silke with barres smale
Of his aray telle I no lenger tale
a Frankleyn was in his companye
White was his berd as is the deysie
And of his complexioun was sanguyn
Wele loued he by the morowe a cuppe of wyn
To lyue in delite was euer his wone
For he was epycuries owen sone
That held opunyon that playn delite
Was verray felicite parfite
An house holder and that a grete was he
Seint Iulian he was in his contre
His brede his ale was alwey after one
A better wiued man was no where none
Withoute bake mete was he neuir in house
His fisshe his flesshe and that so plentevous
It snewed in his house of mete and drinke
Of alle dentees that men coude thinke
After the sondry season of the yere
So chaunged he his mete and his soupere
Fulle many a fatte partriche hadde he in mewe
And many a breme and luce in stewe
Woo was his coke but his sawce were
Poynaunt and sharp and redy alle his gere
His table dormaunt in his halle al wey
Was redy couered alle the long daye
At sessions ther was he lord and sire
Fulle oft tyme he was knyght of the shire
A anlace and a gypser al of silke
Hing at his girdel as white as morowe mylke
A shereue hadde he be and coronoure
Was nowhere suche a worthy vauesoure
aN haberdassher ther was and a carpentere
A webbe a dyer and a tapyser
And they were clothed alle in one lyuere
Of a solempne and grete fraternyte
Fulle fresshe and new their gere pyked was
Theire knyues chaped were nat with brasse
But al with siluer wrought fulle clene and wele
Their girdeles and their pouches euery dele
Wele semed eche of theym a faire burgees
To sitten in the yelde halle at the dese
Eueriche for the wisdome that he can
Was happely for to be an alderman
For catel hadde they ynow and rent
And their wyues wolde it wele assent
And elles certeyn they were to blame
It is fulle faire to be called Madame
And go to the vigylles alle bifore
And haue a mantel rially y bore
a Coke they hadde with theym for the nones
To boyle the chekyns and the mary bones
And poudre marchaunt tart and galingale
Wele knewe he a draught of london ale
He coude roost sethe broyle and frye
Make mortrewes and wele bake a pye
But grete harme was it as it thought me
For on his shynne a mormale hadde he
And blanke manger made he with the beste
a Shipman was there that woned far by west
For ought I wote he was of derthmouth
He rode vpon a rownce as he couth
In a gowne folding to the knee
A dagger on a lace hanging hadde he
A boute his necke vndre his arme a downe
The hote somer hadde made his hewe alle browne
And certeynly he was a gode felawe
Fulle many a draught of wyne he hadde drawe
Fro burdeux warde while the chapman slepe
Of nyce conscience toke he no kepe
If that he faught and hadde the higher honde
By water he sent theym home to euery londe
But of his craft to reken wele his tydes
His stremes and his daungers him besides
His harberugh his mone and his lodemanage
There was none suche from hulle to Cartage
Hardy he was and waar to vndertake
With many a tempest his berde hath been shake
He knew alle the hauenes that there were
Fro gotelond vnto Capfenestre
And euery cryke in britayn and in spayne
His barge was called the Maudeleyne
wwith vs ther was a doctoure of phisyke
In the worlde was ther none him lyke
To speke of physike and surgery
For he was grounded in astronomye
He kept his pacient a grete dele
In houres by magyke naturelle
Wele coude he of fortune the ascendent
Of his ymages for his pacient
He knewe the cause of euery maladye
Were it of colde hete moyst or drye
And were engendred of what humoure
He was a verry parfite practesoure
The cause y knowe and of his harme the rote
Anone he yaf to the seke man his bote
For redy alwey be his apotecaries
To send him drugges and his lectuaries
For eche of theym made other for to wynne
Theire frendeship was nat new to begynne
Ful wele knewe he the olde Esculapius
And discorydes and eke Rusus
Olde ypocras . haly . and eke Galiene
Serapion . Rasis . and eke Auicene
Auerroys damascene and constantyn
Bernarde Gatisden and Gilbertyn
Of his dyete mesurable was he
For it was of no superfluite
But of grete norysshing and degestyble
His stodye was but lytel on the byble
In sangweyn and in perce y cladde with alle
Lyned with taffata and with sandalle
And lytelle he was of his dispence
He kept that he wan in the pestilence
For golde in physike is a cordialle
Therfore he loued golde in especalle
a Gode wif ther was of besyde bathe
And she was some dele deef ⁊and that was scathe
Of clothe making hadde she suche an haunt
She passed theym of ypre and of gaunt
In al[…]e the parisshe wif was there none
That to the offrynge bifore her shulde gone
And if ther dyd certeyn wrothe was she
Than was she oute o falle charyte
Her kercheues were fulle fyne of grounde
I durst swere they weyed thre pounde
That on sonday were on her hede
Her hosen were of fyne scarlet rede
Ful streyte y teyde and shoos ful moyst and new
Bolde was her face faire and rede of hewe
She was a worthy woman alle her lyue
Husbondes at the chirche dore hadde she fyue
Withoute other company in youthe
But therof nedith nat to speke as nowthe
At acres hadde she been and at Jherusalem
She had passed through many a straunge reame
At Rome she hadde be and boloyne
At seynt Iames in Galis and at Coloyne
She coude moche of wandring in the wey
Gap tothed was she sothly to sey
Vpon an ambuler ful easily she satte
y wympled wele and on her hede an hatte
As brode as it were a bokeler or a targe
A fote mantel aboute her hippes large
And on her heles a peire of spores sharpe
In felawship coude she lawhe and carpe
Of remedyes of loue she coude par chaunce
For of that arte she coude the olde daunce
a Gode man ther was of religioun
aAnd was a poure parson of a towne
But riche he was of holy thought and werke
He was also a lerned man a clerke
That cristes gospelles truly wolde preche
His parisshons deuoutly wolde he teche
Benygne he was and wondre diligent
And in aduersite fulle pacient
And suche he was proued ofte sithes
Fulle lothe were he to curse for his tithes
But rather wolde he yeue oute of doute
Onto his poure parisshons aboute
Of his offrynge and eke of his substaunce
He cowde in lytel thinge haue suffisaunce
Wyde was his parysshe and houses fer a sondre
But he lete nat for rayne ne for thundre
In sekenesse ner in myscheyf to visite
The ferrest in his parysshe more and lyte
Upon his feete and in his honde a staf
This noble ensample vnto his shepe he yaue
That first he wrought and afterwarde he taught
Oute of the gospelle t he tho wordes be caught
And this figure he eked therto
That if golde rust what shulde iron doo
For a preestto be foule in whom we truste
No wondre is a lewde man to ruste
And shame it is if a preest take kepe
A slotty shepeherd and a clene shepe
Wele ought a preest ensample for gyue
By his clenesse how his shepe shold lyue
Besette nat his benefice to hyre
Andlete his shepe acombre in the myre
And rynne to london to seynt poules
And seke him a chauntrye for soules
Other with a broderhode to be witholde
But duelle at home and kepe his folde
So that the wolf ne made it nat myscarye
He was a shepeherde and nat a mercenarye
And though he holy were and vertuous
He was nat to synfulmen to dispiteous
Ne of his teching daungerous ne digne
But in his speche discrete and benigne
To drawe folk to he wyn with fairnesse
By gode ensample that was his besynesse
But it were any parsone obstynate
Whether he were of high or lowe estate
Him wolde he snybbe sharpely for the nones
A bettre preest I trowe nowhere none is
He wayted after no pompe ne reuerence
Ne made to him a spyced conscience
But cristes lore and his aposteles twelue
He taught but first he folowed him selue
wth him ther was a plewe man his broder
w hat hadde led of dung many a fother
A trew swynker and a gode was he
Leuyng in pease and parfite charite
God loued he best with alle his hert
At alle tymes though he gamed or smert
And than his nyghboure right as him selue
He wolde thresshe and therto digge and delue
For cristes sake for euery poure wight
Withoute hyre if it ley in his myght
His tythes paide he faire and wele
Of his proper swynke and his catele
In a taberd he rode upon a mere
There was also a reue and eke a millere
A sompnour and a pardonere also
A manciple and my selue there was no moo
The myller was a stoute carle for the nones
Fulle byg he was of braun and bones
That proued wele for ouer alle there he cam
At wrastling alwey he wolde haue the ram
He was short shuldred brode a thicke quarre
There was no dore that he nolde heue of the barre
Or breke it at rennynge with his hede
His berd as any sowe or fox was rede
And therto brode as it were a spade
Vpon the cop right of his nose he hadde
A werte . and there on stode a tufte of heres
Rede as the brusteles of a sowes eres
His nosetrilles blake were and wide
A swerde and a bokeler bare he by his side
His mouth as grete was as a furneys
He was a Iangler and a goliardeys
And that was moost of synne and harlotries
Wele coude he stele corne and tolle thries
And that he hadde a thombe of golde parde
A white cote and a blewe hode wered he
A bagge pype coude he blowe and sowne
And therwith he brought vs oute of towne
a Gentyl manciple was ther of the temple
Of whiche a catoure might take exemple
Forto be wise in biyng of vitaille
For whether he paied or toke by taille
Algate he waited so on his achate
That he was ay bifore and in gode state
Nowe is nat that of god a faire grace
That suche a lewed mannes witte shalle pace
The wisdome of an hepe of lernyd men
Of maisters hadde he mo thanne thries ten
That were of lawe experte and corious
Of whiche there were a dosen in that house
Worthy to be stewardes of rent and londe
Of any lorde that is in Englond
To make hym lyue by his owen good
In honoure detles but he were wode
Other lyue scarsely as theym liste desire
And able for to helpe alle the shire
In any cause that might falle or happe
And yet this manciple set alle their cappe
a Reue ther was a slendre colerike man
His berde is shaue as nygh as he can
His heres were by his eres rounde y shore
His top was docked like a preest bifore
Fulle leng were his legges and fulle lene
Lyke a staf ther is no calf y sene
Wele coude he kepe a garner and a bynne
Ther was none auditoure coude of him wynne
Wele wist he by the drought and by the rayn
The yelding of his sede and of his greyn
His lordes shepe his nete and his deyre
His swyne his horse his store and his pultre
Was holy in this reuys gouernyng
And by his couenaunt yaue the reknyng
Sith his lorde was twenty yere of age
Ther coude no man bronge him in arerage
Ther nas baillie ne none other hyne
That he ne knewe his slight oh his couyne
They were of hym a drad as of the deth
His wonyng was ful faire vpon a heth
With grene trees shadowed was his place
He coude better than his lorde purchase
Fulle riche he was astored pryuely
His lord wele coude he please subtelly
To yeue and lene to him of his own good
And haue thanke and yete a cote and a hode
In youth he hadde lernyd a good mystere
He was a were gode wright a Carpentere
This reue sat vpon a wele gode stot
That was al pomel grey and hight scot
A long surcote of perce vpon him he hadde
And by his side he bare a rusty bladde
Of norfocke was this reue of which I telle
Beside a towne men calle Bladswelle
Tucked he was as is a frere aboute
And euir he rode the hyndrest of the route
a Somnoure with vs was in that place
That hadde a fyre rede cherubyns face
For sasfleme he was with eyen narow
Hote he was and likerous as a sparow
With blak browes skalled and pilled berd
Of his visage children were a ferd
Ther nas quyksiluer litarge ne brymstone
Borace ceruse ne oyle of tartre none
Ne oynement that wolde clense ne bite
That him might helpe of his welkes white
Ne of his knobbes sitting on his chekes
Wele loued he oynons garleke and lekes
And for to drinke strong wyne as rede as blode
Than wold he speke and cry as he were wood
And when he hadde wele dronke the wyne
Than wolde he speke no worde but latyn
A fewe termes hadde he two or thre
That he hadde lernyd of sum man of decre
No wondre is he herde it alle the daye
And eke ye knowe wele that a Iay
Can clepe watte as wele as can the pope
But who coude him in othir thinges grope
Than hadde he spent alle his philopfye
Ay questio quid queris wolde he cry
He was a gentyl harlote and kynde
A bettre felaw sholde men nat fynde
He wolde suffre for a quarte of wyn
A gode felowe to haue his concubyn
A twelf moneth and excuse him at the fulle
Fulle pryuely a fynche eke coude he pulle
And if he fonde owhere a good felawe
He wolde teche him anone to haue awe
In suche caas of the archedekyns curse
But if mannes soule were in his purse
For in his purse he sholde punysshed be
Purse is the archedekenes helle saide he
But wele I woote he lied right in dede
Of cursyng ought eche man to drede
For cursyng wille sle right as soyling saueth
And also ware him of a significauit
In daunger hadde he at his own guyse
Alle the yong gyrles of the diocyse
And knewe of theire counseyl and was of their rede
A garlonde he hadde sette vpon his hede
As grete as it were an ale stake
A bokeler hadde he made him of a cake
wyth theym there rode a gentil pardoner
Of rouncyuale his frende and his compere
That streight was come fro the courte of Rome
Fulle lowde he song come hyther loue to me
This sompnoure bare to him a styf burdoun
Was neuir trompe of half so grete a sowne
This pardoner had here as yelow as wex
And smoth it heng as doth a stryke of flex
By hounses heng his lockes that he hadde
And therwith his shulders ouer spradde
But than it ley by culpons one and oon
An hode for Iolyte wered he none
For it was trussed vpon his walette
Him thought he rode vpon a new get
Dissheuyld saue his cappe he rode alle bare
Suche glaryng eyen had he as hathe an hare
A vernacle hadde he sowed vpon his cappe
His walet biforne him hadde he in his lappe
Brette fulle of pardon come fro Rome alle hote
A voyce he hadde as smalle as hath a gote
No berde hadde he ne neuir shuld haue
As smothe was it as it were new shaue
I trowe he were a gelding or a mare
But of his craft from Berwyke vnto ware
Ne was ther nowhere suche a pardoner
For in his male he hadde a pylowe beer
Which that he seid was oure ladyes veyle
He said he hadde a gobbet of the seyle
That seynt Petyr hadde whan that he went
Vpon the see tyl Iesus crist him hent
He hadde a crosse of laton fulle of stones
And in a glasse he hadde pigges bones
But with these reliques whan that he fonde
A poure parson duelling vpon londe
Vpon a daye he gat him more money
Than the parson gat in monethes twey
And thus hadde he flateries and iapes
He made the parson and the peple his apes
But truly to telle at the last
He was in chirche a noble eccle siaste
Wele cowde he rede a lesson or a storye
But altherbest he songe an offretorye
For wele he wist whan that songe was sunge
He must preche and fyle a while his tunge
To wynne siluer as he fulle wele coude
Therfore he songe the merierly and loude
nOw haue I tolde you shortely in a clause
The state the arraye the nombre ⁊and the cause
Why that assembled was this company
In Southwerke at the gentil hosterye
That hight the Taberde fast by the belle
But now is tyme to you for to telle
How that we bare vs that ilke nyght
When that we were in the hostry a light
And after wille I telle of oure viage
And alle the remenaunt of oure pilgramage
But first I you pray of your curtesye
That ye arette nat my vilonye
Though that I playnly speke in this matere
To telle you their wordes and theire chere
And though I speke theire wordes propirly
For this ye knowe as wele as I
Who shal a tale telle after a man
He must reherse as nere as he can
Euery worde if it be in his charge
Al speke he neuir so rudely and so large
Or elles he must telle his tale vntrewe
Or sey thinges or feyne wordes newe
He may nat spare although he were his broder
He moot as wele say o worde as a nother
Crist spake him selue ful brode in holy writte
And wele ye wote no vilany is it
Eke plato seyeth who can it rede
The worde must be cosyn to the dede
Also I praye you foryeue it me
Al though I set nat folk in theire degre
Here in these tales as they shulde stonde
My witte is shorte ye may wele vndrestonde
gRete chere made oure ost vs euirechone
And to the soupere sette he vs anone
He seruyd vs with vitaylle at the best
Stronge was the wyne and wele drinke vs lyst
A semely man oure ost was with alle
For to be a marshalle in a lordes halle
A large man he was with eyen stepe
A feyrer brugges is ther none in chepe
Bolde of his speche and wele was y taught
And of manhode lacked he right naught
Eke therto was he right a mery man
And after souper to pleyen he began
And spake of mirth amonge other thinges
Whan that we hadde made oure reknynges
He sayd thus lordynges truly
Ye be to me right welcom hertly
For by my trewth if I shalle nat lye
I saw nat this yere so mery a company
At onys in this herborow as now
Feyne wolde I do you myrtth if I wist how
And of a myrth I am right now be thought
To do you ease and it shal cost you nought
Ye go to Caunterbury warde god you spede
The blisful martyr quyte you your mede
And wele ye wote as ye go by the wey
Ye shapyn you to tawke and to pley
For truly comfort ne myrth is none
To ryde by the wey dombe as a stone
And therfore wille I make you disporte
As I said erst and do you comforte
And it lyketh you alle by one assent
For to stonde at my iugement
And for to wyrke as I shalle you say
To morow whan ye ryden on the way
Now by my fadre soule that is dede
But ye be mery I shalle gyue you my hede
Holde vp your hond withoute more speche
Oure counsel shal nat long be to seche
Vs thought it was nat worth to make vs wys
And graunted him with oute more a vys
And badde him sey his verdite as him list
Lordinges quod he now herkneth for the best
But take it nat I praye you in disdeyn
This is the poynte to speke it shorte and pleyn
That eche of you to shorte with your wey
In this viage shalle tel tales twey
To Caunterbury warde I mene it so
And homwarde he shal telle other tales two
Of auentures that whilom haue befalle
And whiche of you berith him best of alle
That is to say that tellith in this caas
Tales of the best sentence and moost solace
Shalle haue a souper of our alther cost
Here in this place sittyng by the post
Whan that we com ayen from Caunterbury
And for to make you the more mery
I wille my selue godely with you ryde
Right at myn owen cost and be your gyde
And who that wol my iugement with say
Shortely shal paye alle that is spent by the wey
And if he vouchsauf that it be so
Tel me anone withoute wordes mo
And I wille arly shape me therfore
This thing was graunted and othes swore
With ful glad herte and preyen him also
That he wolde vouche sauf that it be so
And that he wolde be our gouernour
And of our tales iuge and reportour
And sette a souper at a certeyn pryce
And wolde be ruled at his deuyce
High and lowe and alle by one assent
We be accorded to this iugement
And ther vpon the wyne was sette anone
We dranke and to rest went we echone
With oute any lenger tariyng
A morowe when the day gan spring
Vp rose our hoost and was alle our cok
And gadred vs to gidre alle in a flok
And forth we ryden litel more than paas
Vnto the watering of sent Thomas
And there our host gan his horse arest
And said herkeneth lordinges if ye list
Ye woot oure forwarde and I you recorde
Yf euynsong and morosonge accorde
Let se now who shal telle the first tale
As euir mot I drinke wyne or ale
Who so wilbe rebelle to my iugement
Shal pay for alle that is by the wey spent
nOwe draw cut or that ye further twynne
Whiche shal the first tale begynne
Syr knyght quod he my master and my lorde
Now drawith cut for that is myn accorde
Cometh hether quod he my lady prioresse
And ye Syr clerke let by your shamefastnes
Ne studye nat . ley on hand euery man
Anone to drawen euery wight began
And shortely to telle as it was
Were it by auenture fortune or caas
The sothe is this . the cut fyl on the knyght
Of whiche fulle blith and glade is euery wight
And telle he must as it was reson
By forward and by composicion
As ye haue herde what nedith wordes mo
And whan this godeman sawe that it was so
As he that was wise and obedient
To kepe his forward by his fre assent
He saide sithnes I shal begynne the game
What welcom be cut in goddes name
Now let vs ryde and herken what I say
And with that worde we riden furth our wey
And he began with a right mery chere
And seyd anone his tale as ye shalle here