Ps · Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale Fonds anglais MS 39

POEMATA
Gaufredi Chauceri Poetae Angli
Incipiunt Prologi in fabu
las Canterburienses .

UWhan that april wᵗith his shourez swote

Þe drought of March haþ ꝑpercyd to þᵉ rote

And bathid eủery veyn in such lycour

Of which vertu engendrid is the flour

Enspired hath in euery holt and heth

The tendre croppes and the yong sonne

Hath in the Reyne his half cours y ronne

And smale foules makyn melody

So prikkiþ hem nature in here coragez

Than longyn folk to gon on pilgrimagez

And palmers for to sekyn straunge strondez

To feere halwys sovht in sundry londys

Of Englond to Cauntyrbury thei wende

The holy blisful martyr for to seke

That hem hath holpyn when thei were seeke

Befell that in that seson on a day

Redy to wendyn on my pilgrimage

To Cauntyrbury with ful deuoute corage

At nyght were comyn to that hostelry

Welnygh nyne and twenty on a company

In felawshipp̄  and pilgrymes were þei alle

Thei toward Cauntyrbury wold ryde

The chaumbres and the stables were wyde

And wel we weryn easid at the best

So hadde I spokyn with hem euerichon̄

That I was of thaire felavshipp̄ a non

And made forward erly for to ryse

To take oure weye there as I yow deuyse

Er that I forthermore in this tale pace

Me thynketh yt accordaunt to Resoun̄

To telle yow al the condicyoun̄

Of ich of hem so as yt semyth me

And eke in what aray that þei were in

And at a knyght wil I furst begyn

A knyght ther was and þᵗat a wurthi man

Þat fro þe tyme þat he furst began

Trouthe and honour fredam and courtasy

Full wurthi was he in his lordis warre

And therto had he rydyn no man so farre

Als wel in cristendome as in hethnesse

At Alisaundre was he whan yt was wonne

And oftyn tyme he had the boorde begonne

Abouyn al nacyon in pruce

In lectow hadde he presyng and ruce

In garnade at the sege eke had he be

Of algezer  and ryden in belmary

At lyeys was he and at sataly

When thei were wonne and in grete see

At mortal batailles had he been fiftene

And foughtyn for oure faith in tramysene

In listes thryes and ay slough his foo

This ilke wurthi knyght hadde ben also

Agayn an othir hethyn in turky

And euyr more he hadde a soueraign pryce

And though he were wurthi he was wyse

And of his port als meke as is a mayde

In al his lyfe vnto no manyr wight

He was a verray perfyte gentil knyght

But for to telle yow of his aray

His hors weryn goode but yt he he was not gay

Al be smorchid with his haberion̄

For he was late come from his viage

And went to don̄ his pilgrimage

Uith hym þer was his sone a yong sqwier

With lokkes crulle and thei were leid in presse

Of twenty yeer of age he was I gesse

Of his stature he was of euyn lengthe

And wundyr delyuer and of gret strengthe

In flaundres arteys and in in picardye

And born hym wel as of so lytell space

In hope to stondyn in his ladyez grace

Enbrowded was he as yt were a mede

Syngyng he was or pipyng al the day

He was as fressh as is the moneth of may

Short was his gowne with slevys long ⁊and wyde

Wel couthe he sytte on hors and fayre ryde

Iustyn ⁊and eke wel daunce purtray and wryte

So hote he louyd that by the nyghtirtale

He slept no more than doth the nyghtyngale

Curtays he was lowely and servysable

A yoman had he and seruauntz no mo

At that tyme for hym lyst ryde so

And he was clad in cote and hood of grene

A shef of pecok arwes bright and shene

Wel couth he dresse his takil yomanly

His arwes droupid nought with fedirs lowe

And in his hand he bar a myghty bowe

A not hede had he with a brown visage

Vppon his arme he bare a gay braser

And by his side a good swerd and a bokeler

And on that othir syde a gay dagger

Harneysid wel and sharp as poynt of sper

A horne he bar the bawdryke was of grene

A forster was he soothly as I gesse

Ther was also a Nonne a prioresse

That of her smylyng was boþᵉ symple ⁊and coy

And she was clepid ma dame Englentyne

Ful wel she song the seruyse of dyuyne

Entunyd in hir voyce nose ful semely

And frenssh sho spak ful fayre and fetysly

For frenssh of Paryssh was to hir vnknowe

At the mete wel taught was she with all

She leete no morsel fro hir lippes fall

Ne wet hire fingres in hire sauce depe

That no drope shul falle vppon hir breest

In courtasye was sette ful mekil hire lyst

Here ouer lyppe wiped she ouer so clene

That in here coppe ther was no forthyng sene

Ful semly aftyr hir mete she raught

And sekirly she was of grete disport

And ful pleasaunt and amyabil of port

And peynyd here for to countyrfeet cheere

And to be holdyn digne of Reuerence

But for to spekyn of hir conscience

She was so charitable and so pytouse

Sho wold wepe yif that she saugh a mouse

Smale houndys had she did þat fede

With rostid flessh or mylk or wastil brede

But sore wept she yif one of hem were dede

Or yif men smot yt with a yerde smert

Ful semly here wympil pynchid was

Hir nose tretys hir eyen grey as glas

Hir mouthe ful smal and therto soft and reed

But sykirly she had a fayr forhed

For hardily she was not vndirgrowe

Ful fetyse was hire cloke as I was war

Of smal coral aboute hir necke she bar

A payre of bedys gaudeed al with grene

On whiche furst was wryten a crownyd .A.

And aftyr Amor vincit omniA .

AN othir Nonne with hire hadde she

That was her chapeleyn ⁊and preestez thre

An outryder that louyd venery

A manly man to be an abbot hable

Ful many a deynte hors had he in stable

And when he rode men myght his brydel here

And eke as lowde as dooth the chapell belle

There as this lord was keper of the celle

The reule of seynt maure or of seynt benyt

Be cause that yt was old and sumdel streyt

And held aftir the newe world the space

He gaf not of that text a pullid hen

That seith that hunters were not holy men

Ne that a monke that is rekkelesse

This is to sey a monk out of his cloystre

But thilk tixt he thought not wurþ an oystre

And I seyd his opynyon was good

What shuld he stody and make hym self wood

Or swynkyn with his handys and labour

As Augustyn biddith how shal þe world be s̉eruyd

Lat augustyn haue his swynk to hym reseruyd

Therfore he was a pricasoure a right

Of pryckyng and of huntyng for the hare

Was al his lust for no spensez wold he spare

I saugh his sleuys purfilyd at the hand

With gryce and that the fynest of a land

He had of gold wrought a ful curyous pyn

A loue knotte in the gretter ende ther was

His hede was ballid that shon as any glas .

And eke his face as he had been anoynt

His eyen steepe and rollyng in his hede

That stemyd as a fourneyce of a lede

His botys souple his hors in gret astate

Now certaynly he was a fayr p̉relate

A fat swan louyd he best of any rost

His palfray was als brown̄ as a bery

A frere there was a wanton̄ ⁊and a mery

A lymytour a ful solempne man

So mekil of daliaunce and fayre language

He hadde made ful many a mariage

Of yong wommen of his owne cost

Vnto his ordre he was a noble post

With frankeleyns oủeral in the cuntre

And with wurthi men in the town̄

For he hadde power of confessyon

As seid hym self more than a curat

Ful swetly herd he confessyoun

And plesaunt was in his absolucyon

He was a visy man to gif penaun̄ce

There as he wist to haue a good pytaun̄ce

Is signe that a man is wel shryue

For yif he gaf he durst make his avaunt

He wist wel that a man was repentaunt

For many a man so herd is of his hert

Therfor in stede of wepyng and prayers

Men most gyue siluer vnto the pouere frerys

His tipet was ay farsid ful of knyfes

And pynnys for to gyf þᵉ fayre wyfes

Wel couthe he synge and play on a rote

Of yeddyngez he bar vttirly the pryce

His necke was white as is the floure delice

Therto he strong was as a champyon

And euerych hosteler and tapister

Bettyr than a lazar or a begger

For to swich a wurthi man as he

Accordid not as by his faculte

Yt is not honest yt may not avaun̄ce

For to dele with no suych pouerayle

But al with ryche and sellers of vitayle

And oủeral ther as ꝓprofyte shuld ryse

Ther was no man nowgher so vertuous

He was the best begger of al his hous

So plesaunt was his In principio

Yit wold he haue a ferthyng or he went

His purchace was wel better than his rent

And rage he couth right as yt were a whelp

For ther he was not like a cloystrer

With a thredbare cope like a pouer scoler

But he was like a mayster or a pope

Of double wurstede was his semycope

Sumwhat he lispid for his wantonesse

To make his englissh sweete vppon his tonge

And in his harpyng when he had songe

His eyen twynklyd in his hede a right

This wurthy lymytour was clepid hoberd

A marchaund was þ̉er wiþ a forked berd

In motle and hye on hors he satte

Vppon his hed a flaundres beuer hatte

His resouns he spak ful solempnely

Sownyng alwey to the encrese of his wynnyng

He wold the seeth see were kept for any thyng

Betwix Medilburgh and Orwell

This wurthy man ful wel his wyt besette

Ther wist no wight that he was in dette

So estatly was he of his goủernaun̄ce

With his bargayns and his cheuysshaunce

But sooth to seyn I not how men hym calle

A clerk ther was of Oxenford also

That to logyk had long y go

Als lene was his hors as is a Rake

But lokyd holow and therto sobyrly

Ful thredbare was his ouerest courtpy

For he hadde yit getyn hym no benefyce

Ne was so worldly for to haue office

Twenty goode bookys clad in blak and red

Of aristotle and of his philosophie

Than Robys riche or fithell or gay sautrye

But al be that he was a philosophre

But al that he myght of his freendys hent

On bookes and on lernyng he yt spent

And besily gan for the soules prey

Of hem that hym gaf therwith did to scoley

Not a wurd spak he more than was neede

And that was seid in fourme and Reuerence

And short and quyk and ful of hye sentence

Sownyng in moral vertu was his speche

A sergeaunt of lawe boþe war ⁊and wise

That oftyn had ben at the ꝑperuyse

Ther was also  ful riche of excellence

Discreet he was and of gret Reuerence

Iustyce he was ful oftyn in assise

By patent and by pleyn commyssyon

For his science and his hye Renown̄

Of fees and Robes had he manyon

Al was fee symple to hym in effecte

His purchasyng myght not be enfecte

Nowher so besy a man as he ther nas

And yit he semyd beseer than he was

That fro the tyme of kyng willyam did falle

Therto he couthe endyte and make a thing

Ther couth no wight pinche at his wryting

And euery statute couth he pleyn by Rote

Gird with a seynt of silk with barrys smale

Of his aray telle I no lenger tale

A frankeleyn was in his company

White was his berd as ys þe dayesy

Wel louyd he by the morwe a sop in wyne

To lyue in delyte was euer his wone

For he was epicurus owne sone

That hadde opynyon playn þat delyte

An houshalder and þat a gret was he

Seynt Iulyan he was in his cuntre

His bred his ale was alway aftyr one

A bettyr man was nowher non

Of fissh and flessh and that so plenteuouse

That the disshes were filled to the brinke

It snowyd in his hous of mete and drynke

Aftir the sundry sesons of the yeere ·

Ful many fatte partrike had he in muwe

And many a breme and luce had he in stue

Wo was his cook but yif his sauce were

Poynaunt and fast redy in al his gere

Stood redy coueryd al the long day

At sessyouns ther was he lord and syre

Ful ofte tyme had he been knyght of þe shyre

An anlas and a gisper al of sylk

And a shereue had he be and countour

Was nowher such a wurthy vauasour

An haberdassher and a carpenter

A webbe a dyer and a Tapyser

Of a ful solempne and gret fraternyte

Ful fressh and newe here gere pykid was

Here knyfes were chapid not with bras

But al with siluer wrought clene and wel

Wel semyd ich of hem a fayre burgeyse

To syttyn in a yeldhalle on a deyse

Euerich for wisdam that he can

Was shappely for to be an alderman

And eke here wyfes wold therto wel assent

And ellis certayn were thei to blame

It is ful fayre to be clepid madame

And gone to vigilees al be foore

A Cook thei hadde with þem for þe nonys

To boyle the chikenes and þe marybonys

And powdre marchaunt tart and galyngale

Wel couth he knowe a draught of london̄ ale

Makyn mortrews and wel make a pye

But grete harme was yt as semyd me

That on his shyn a morymal hadde he

For blankmaunger made he at the best

For ought I wot he was of derthmouþe

He rode vppon a Rounsy as he couthe

In a gowne of faldyng to the kne

A dagger hengyng on a lace had he

The somer hote hadde made his hewe al brown̄

And certanly he was a good felawe

Ful many a draught of wyne had he drawe

Fro burdews ward whil that þe chapman sleepe

Yif that he faught and had the hygher hand

By water he sent hem hom to euery land

But of his craftys to rekkyn wel his tydes

His streme and his daungers hym besides

Ther was non suych fro hul to cartage

Hardy he was and wyse to vndertake

With many a tempest had his berd been shake

He knewe alle the hauenys als thei were

And euery cryke in bretayn and in spayne

His barge was clepid the mawdelayne

Utth vs ther was a doctour of fysike

In al this world is non hym like

For he was groundid in Astronomye

He kept his pacient a ful gret deel

In hourys by his magyk naturel

Weel couthe he fortunen the ascendent

He knewe the cause of euery maledye

Were yt of hete cold moyst or drye

And where thei gendrid and of what humour

He was a verray ꝑperfyte practesour

And by than the syke man hauys his boote

Ful redy had he his apotacarijs

To sendyn hym his draggez and his electuarijs

For ich of hem made othir for to wynne

Wel knewe he the olde esculapius

And discordeys and eke rusius

Old ypocras hoolly and galien

Serapyon rasis and auyseyn

Bernard gatistiden and gilbertyn

Of his dyete mesurable was he

For yt was not of no suꝑperfluyte

But gret norisshyng and digestible

In sanguyne and in pers he clad was al

Lyned with taffata and with sendal

And yit he was but easy of dispence

He kept that he wan in the pestilence

Therfore he louyd gold in especiall

A good wyfe ther was of beside bathe

But she was sumdel def ⁊and þᵗat was skaþe

Of clothe makyng she hadde suych an haunt

In al the parissh wyfe ne was ther non

That to the offeryng beforne hir shuld gon

And yif ther did certayn so wroth was she

That sho was out of al charyte

I durst swere thei weyed ten pounde

That on a sunday were vppon hir hed

Hir hosys were of fyn skarlet red

Ful strayte ytyed and shoon̄ ful newe

She was a wurthy womman al hir lyue

Husbandys at the kirke doore had she fyue

Withoutyn othir company in youthe

But therof nedith not to speke as nouthe

She hadde passid many a straunge strem

At Rome she hadde ben and at boloyne

In galice at seynt Iames and at coloyne

She couthe mekil of wandryng by the way

Vppon an amblour soothly she satte

Wympled wel and on hir hed an hatte

Als brod as is a bokeler or a targe

A foot mantell aboute hir hippes large

In felawship wel couthe laugh and karpe

Of Remedyes of loue she knewe ꝑparchaunce

For she couthe of that art the olde daunce

A good man ther was of Religion

But riche he was of holy thought ⁊and werk

He was also a lernyd man a clerk

That crystis gospell truly wold teche

His parisshens deuoutly wold he preche

And in aduersite ful pacient

And such he was prouyd ofte sythis

Ful loth were hym to cursyn for his tithis

But rathir wold he gyuyn out of doute

Of his offryng and of his substaunce

He couthe in lytill thing haue sufficeaun̄ce

Wyde was his parissh and houses fer a sundre

But he left not for Reyn ne for thondre

The ferthest in his parissh mychel and lyte

Vppon his feet and his hand a staffe °

This noble ensaunple to his sheep he yaf °

That furst he wrought and aftirward he taught °

And this figure he addid yit therto

That yif gold ruste what shal Iren do .

For yif a preest be foul on whom we trust

No wondre is lewde men to rust

A shytten shepherd and a clene sheep

Wel aught a preest ensaunple for to yif

By his clennesse how that his sheep shuld lif

He sette not his benefice to hyre

And ranne to london̄ to seynt powlys

To seke hym a chauntry for soules

Or with a brothirhed to be withold

But dwellid at home and kepid his fold

He was a shepherd and no thing a mercenary

And though he holy were and vertuous

He was not to synful men dispitous

Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne

To drawe folk to heuyn by clennesse

By good ensaunple this was his besynesse

But yif it were any ꝑpersone obstynate

What euer he were of high or lowe estate

A bettyr prest I trow nowher non is

He wayted aftir no pompe ne Reuerence

Ne makid hym a spiced conscience

But cristes lore and his apostlys twelue

Uith hym ther was a plowman his broþ̉er

Þat had lad of dung many a fothir

A trew swynkere and a good was he

Lyuyng in pees and ꝑparfyte charyte

At alle tymes þough hym gamyd or smerte

And than his neighbour right as hym self

He wold thressh and therto dyke and delf

For cristis sake for euery pouer wight

His tithis payed he bothe fayre and wel

Bothe of his propre swynk and his catel

In a tabbard he rode vppon a mere

Ther was also a Reue and a mylnere

A Manciple and my self ther wer no mo

The mylner was a strong carl for the nonys

Ful big he was of brawne and eke of bonys

That preuyd wel for oueral ther he cam

He was short shuldred brod and thikke knarre

Ther was no dore þat he ne wold haue of harre

Or breke yt with a rennyng with his hed

His berd as any heaf fox was red

Vppon the coppe right of his nose he hade

A wert and theron stood a tufte of herys

Rede as the birstles of a sowys erys

His nose thrilles blak were and wyde

His mouthe as gret as was fourneyce

He was a iangler and a galiardece

And that was most of synne and haʳlotryez .

Wel couth he stele corne and tolle thryes

A white cote and a blew hood werid he

A bagge pipe wel couthe he blowe and sown̄

And therwithal he brought vs out of town̄

A gentil maunciple was þ̉er of a temple ·

For to be wise in byeng of vitayle

For whetthir þat he payed or took by tayle

Algate he waityd so in his acate

That he was ay beforn and in good estate

That suych a lewd mannys wyt shal pace

The wisdam of an hepe of lernyd men

Of maystres hadde he mo than thries ten

That weren of lawe expert and curyous

Wurthi to be stiward of rent and land

Of any lord that is in England

To make hym lyue by his ꝓpropre good

In honour detles but he yif he were wood

And hable for to help al a shire ·

In any case that myght falle or happe ·

And yit this maunciple sette þ̉er alder cappe ·

The Reue was a sklendre colerik man

His heer was by his eerys ful rounde shorn

His toppe was dokkid like a preest beforn̄

Ful long were his legges and ful lene

Like to a rake ther was no calf sene ·

Ther was non auditour couth of hym wynne

Wel wist he by the drought and by þe rayne

The yeeldyng of his sted and of his grayne

His lordis sheep his mete his deyrye ·

Was hoolly in this Reuys gouernyng

And by his couenant yaf he the rekkenyng

Sythen that his lord was twenty yeer of age ·

Ther couth no man bring hym in arrerage ·

But that he knew his sleight and his engyne

Thei were aferd of hym as of the deth

His wonyng was ful fayr vppon an heth

With grene trees shadwid was his place

Ful richely he was astoryd pryuyly

His lord wel couth he please soothly

To yyf and lene hym of his owne good

And haue a thank and yit a cote and an hood

He was a wel good wright and a carpentere

This Reue satte vppon a wel good stotte

That was a pomely gray and hight scotte ·

A long surcote of pers vppon he hadde

Of Northfolk was this Reue of which I telle ·

Beside a town men clepyn haldiswelle ·

Tukkid he was as is a frere a boute

And euyr he rode the hyndrest in the route ·

That had a fayre red cherubyn face ·

For sausflem he was with eyen narwe ·

As hoot he was and likerous as sparwe

With scalid blak and pillid berd

Ther nas quyk siluer litarge ne burnston̄

Borace ceruse ne oyle of tartare non̄

Ne oynement that wold clense and byte ·

That hym myght help of his whelkis white

Wel louyd he garleek onyouns and leekis

And for to drynke red wyn strong as blood

Than wold he speke and crye as he were wood

And when he wel dronkyn had the wyne

Than wold he speke no wurd but latyne ·

A fewe termys had he two or thre

No wondir is he herd yt al the day

And yee knowen wel how that a Iay

Can clepyn watte als wel as can the pope

But who so couth in othir thinges grope

Ay questio quid iuris wold he crye

He was a gentil harlot and a kynde

A bettir felawe shuld no man fynde ·

He wold suffre for a quarte of wyne ·

A twelmoneth and excuse hym at the fulle ·

Ful pryuely a fynch couth he pulle ·

And yif he fond owher a good felawe ·

He wold techyn hym to haue non awe

But yif a mannys soule werin his purse

For in his purse he shuld punysshid be

Purse is the Archedekyns helle said he

But wel I wot he lyed right in dede

For curse wil sle right as assoylyng sauyth

And also war hym of a significauit

In daunger hath he at his owne guyse ·

The yonge girles of the diocyse

A garland hadde sette vppon his heed

Als gret as yt were for an ale stake

A bokeler had he made hym of a cake ·

Uith hym ther rode a ioly pardonere

That streight was comyn fro þe court of Rome

Ful lowd he sang come hider loue to me

This sompnour bar to hym a stiffe burdoun̄

Was neuyr trumpe of half so gret a sown̄ ·

But smoth yt heng as dooth a stryke of flex

By oun̄cys heng his lokkis þat he hadde

And therwith he his gret shulders spradde

But thynne yt lay by culpoun̄s on and on

For yt was trussid vppon his walette

Hym thought he rode al on the newe gette

Discheuelee saue his cappe he rode al bare

Suych a glasing eye had he . as an hare ·

His walet beforn hym in his lappe

Bretful of ꝑpardon comyn fro Rome al hoot

A voice he hadde as smal as hath a goot

No berd had he ne neuyr shuld haue

I trowe he were a geldyng or a mare

But of his craft from berwyk vnto ware

Ne was ther suych an othir ꝑpardoner

For in his male he had a pilowbeer

He saide he hadde a gobet of the sayle

That seynt petir hadde when he went

Vppon the see til iħuihesu criste hym hent

He hadde a crosse of latoun ful of stonys

But with thise reliques whan þat he fond

A pouer ꝑparson dwellyng vppon lond

Vppon a day he gat hym more moneye

Than that ꝑparson gat in monethis tweye

He made the ꝑparson and the poeple his apys

But truly to tellyn at the last

In the chirche he was a noble ecclesiast

Wel couthe he rede a lesson or a story

For wel he wist whan that song was sunge

He most preche and wel avise his tunge

To wynne siluer as he wel cowde

Therfor he song the merilyer and loude

Þe state þe aray þe nombre and þe cause

Whi that assemblid was this company

In southwerk at this gentil hostelry

That hight the tabbard right by the belle

How that we bare vs that ilk nyght

Whan we were in þat hostelry alight

And aftir wil I telle of oure viage ·

And al the Remanent of oure pilgrymage

That yee ne ret yt my vilanye

Though I pleynly speke in this mater

To telle yow her wurdys and her cheer

Ne though I speke her wurdis propirly

Who so shal telle a tale aftir a man

He mot reherce as nygh as euyr he can

Euery wurd yif yt lye in his charge

Þough he speke neủer so rudely and so large

Or feyne thyng or fynd wurdes newe

He may not spare al though he wer his broþ̉er

He mot als wel sey on wurd as othir

Criste spake ful brode in holy wrytte

Eke plato seith who so can hym rede

The wurd mot been cosyn to the dede

Also I pray yow foryif yt me

Alle haue I not sette folk in her degree

My wyt is short yee may wel vndirstonde

GRet chere made our host vs euerichon

And to the soper sette we were a non̄

He seruyd vs with vitaile at the best

A semly man oure host was with alle

For to be a marshall of an halle

A large man he was with eyen stepe

A fayrer burgeys was þer non in chepe

And manhode hym lakkid right naught

Eke therto he was a mery man

And after soper to pleyen he began

And spak of myrthe among othir thyng

He said thus lo lordynges truly

Yee be to me right welcome hertily

For by my trouthe yif that I shal not lye

I saugh not this yeer so mery a companye ·

Fayn wold I do yow myrthe wist I how

And of a myrthe I am right now be thought

To done yow ease and yt shal cost nought

Yee gon to Cauntyrbury god yow spede

And wel I wot that as ye gon̄ by the way

Yee shape yow to talke and to play

For truly myrth ne comfort is non

To ryden by the way dombe as a ston

As I seid erst and do yow comfort

And yif yow liketh al by one assent

For to stondyn at my Iuggement

As for to wirkyn as I shal yow say

Now by my fadirs soule þat is ded

But yif yee be mery I wil lese myn hed

Hold vp youre handes without more speche

Oure counsel was not long for to seche

And grauntid hym without more aduyse

And bad hym sey his veredicte as hym lest

Lordynges now herkenyth for the best

But take yt not I pray yow to disdeyn

That ich of yow to short with oure way

In this viage shal telle vs talys tway

To Cauntirbury ward I mene yt so

And homward he shal telle vs othir two

And whiche of yow that berys hym best of alle

That is to seyn that tellis in this case

Tales of best sentence and most solace

Shal haue a soper at oure alther cost

When that we comyn ageyn fro Caunt̉erbury

And for to make yow the more mery

I wil my self goodly with yow ryde

Right at myn owne cost and be your guyde

Shal pay al that we spende by the way

And yif yee vouchesauff þat it be so

Telle me anon without wurdys mo

And I wil erly shape me therfore

With ful glad hert and prayed hym also

That he wold vouchesauff for to do so

And that he wold be oure gouernour̉

And of oure tales Iuge and be Reportour

And we wil be rulyd at his deuyse

In heigh and lowe and thus by on assent

We haue accordid to this Iuggement

And thervppon the wyne was fet anon

Without any lenger tareyng

At morwe when that day gan spryng

Vp rose oure host and was oure althir cokke

And gedird vs to gedir al in a flokke

Vn to the wateryng of seynt thomas

And ther oure host began his hors arest

And said herkenyth lordyngez yif yow lest

Yee wit youre forward and yt yow recorde

Let se now who shal telle the furst tale

As euyr mot I drynk wyne or ale

Who so be rebelle to my Iuggement

Shal pay for al that by the way is spent

He that hauys the shortest shal begynne

ʆSer knyght qdquod he my mayster and my lord

Now drawe cutte for that is myn accord

Comyth neer quoth he my lady prioresse

Ne studyeth not lay hand to euery man

A non to drawyn euery wight began

And shortly to tellyn as yt was

Were yt by auenture or sort or case

Of which ful glad was eủery wight

And telle he most his tale as was resoun̄

By forward and by composycyoun̄

As yee haue herd what nedith wurdis mo

As he that was wyse and obedient

To kepe his forward by his fre assent

He said sythen that I shal begyn the game

What welcome be thou cut on goddis name

And that wurd we ryden forth oure way

And he began with right a mery chere

His tale and said on this manere

Iam qꝫue domos patrias scichite post asꝑpera gentꝭis
Premia lauʳⁱrigero laurigero ⁊ c̉et cetera .

Incipit fabula Militis . Primo Sic

Uhilom as old storyes tellyn vs

Ther was a duke that hight theseus .

Of athenes he was lord and gouernour

And in his tyme such a conquerour

Ful many a riche cuntre had he wonne

What with his wisdam ⁊and wᵗith his cheualry

He conqueryd al the Regne of femyny

That whilom was clepid sithea

And brought her home with hym in his cuntr͗e

With mekil glory and gret solempnyte

And eke hir yonge sustyr Emelye

And thus with victory and with melodye

And al his host in armour by his syde

And yif yt ne were long for to here

I wold haue told fully the manere

How wonnyn was the Regne of femynye

And the gret batayle for the nonys

Bitwix athenes and the amizonys

And how besegid was Ipolita

The fayre heed qween of sithea

And of the tempest at hir hom bringyng

But al that thing I mot as now forbere

I haue god wot a large feld to ere

And weyke been the oxen in my plough

I wil not let eke non of this rout

Lat eủery felaw eke telle his tale about

And lat se now who shal the soper wynne

And ther I left I wil agayn begynne

When he was comyn almost to þe toun̄

In al his welthe and in al his hie pryde

He was war as he cast his eye on syde

Where ther knelyd almost in the way

Ich aftir othir clad in clothis blake

But such a cry and such a wo thei make

That in this world ne is creature lyuyng

That herd such an othir waymentyng

Til thei the reynes of his brydel hentyn