Ra2 · Oxford, Bodleian Library MS. Rawlinson poet. 149

Olde ypocras holy and galyene

Serapion rasi and auysene

Bernard gattisdene and gylbertyn

Of his diete mesurable was he

For it was of no superfluyte

But of grete norsyngꝭ and digestible

Of sanguyn and of pers his clothingꝭ alle

Lyned with taffada and sendall

And yit he was but esy in dispence

He kepte that he wanne in pestelence

Therefore he loued golde in speciall

A gode wife there was of bathe

But she was defe and þat was scathe

Of clothe makingꝭ had she suche an haunte

In alle þe ꝑparisshe was Ther wife none

Þat to the offeryngꝭ before here wolde gone

And yif þere dede certein wrothe was she

That sche was oute of alle charite

I durst suere thei weyed . x . b .

That on a sonday was on here hede

Hire hose were of fine scarlet rede

Full straite teide and shoes full newe

She was a worthi woman alle here life

Husbondes atte chirche dore hadde she fyue

With oute other Cumpany in youthe

But there of nedeth not to speke as nowth

She hadde passid many a stronge streme

Sche couthe moche of wanderyngꝭ be the way

Vppon an ambler esely she sate

Wympled well and on here hede an hatte

As brode as is abokeler or a targe

A fote mantell aboute hir hippes large

In felawshipp well cowde sche laughe and carpe

Of remedys of loue she couthe ꝑparchauns

For she couthe of that arte the dauns

A gode man was there of religiou

But riche was he of holy werke

He was a lerned man a clerke

That Cristes gospell truly wolde preche

His parisshens devoutely wolde teche

And in aduersite full pacient

And suche he was ꝓproued ofte sithes

Full lothe were him to curs for his tithes

But radder wolde he gefe oute of doute

Of his offeryngꝭ and of his substaunce

He couth in litill þingꝭ haue sustinaunce

Wide was his ꝑparissh and houses ferre a sonder

But he lefte not for reyne ne for þonder

The ferrest of his ꝑparisshe moche and lyte

Vppon his fete and in his honde a staffe

This noble ensaumple to his shepe he gaffe

That firste he wrought and aftirward he taght

And this figure he addid eke there to

That yif golde ruste what shulde Iren do

For yif a preste be foull on wham we truste

No wonder ys a lewde man to ruste

A schetten shiphard and a clene shepe

Wel aght a preste ensaumple for to gyue

Be his clawses howe that his shepe shulde leue

He sette not his benefice to hire

And ryn to londou to seint poules

To seche hym a chauntre for soules

Or with a Bretherhede to halde

But duellid atte home and kepte well his falde

He was a shiphard and not a mercenary

And though he holy were and vertuous

He was not to sinfull men dispitous

Nor of his speche dangerous and digne

To drawe folke to heuene be fairenes

Be gode ensaumple this was his besines

But it were any persoun abstinate

Who so he were of hie and lowe estate

A bett̉re preste I trowe non wher is

He waites after no pompe nor reủerens

Nor he made him not a spicid contenaunce

But cristes lore and his apostels xij

With him there was a ploghman his oune brother

That had lad of donge many a fother

A trewe swynker and a gode was he

Leuyngꝭ in peas and in charite

Atte alle tyme thogh him gamed or smerte

And than his neigheboᵘur as him selfe

He wolde thressh and ther to dike and dewe

For cristis sake to eủery pore wight

His tithes paide he full faire and wele

Bothe of his ꝓpropre swynke and of his catele

In a tabarde he rode vp on a mere

There was also a ryve and a Millere

A mansiple and my selfe there was nomo

The Miller was a stoute chorle for the nones

Full bygge he was of brawne and of bones

That ꝓproves well for oủer alle that wher he came

He was schort shuldrid and thicke knarre

Ther was no dore þat he wolde haue an harre

Well wyste he be the drought and be the reyne

The yeldingꝭ of his sede and of his greyne

His lordes nete his shepe his dayery

Was holy in the reues goủernyngꝭ

And by his couenaunt yaue rekenyngꝭes

Sothe his lorde was xxᵗⁱ yere of age

Ther couthe noman bringꝭ him in rerage

That he ne knewe his sleight and his couyne

Thei were adrad of him as for the dethe

His wonnyngꝭ was full faire vp on an hethe

With grene trees shadowid was his place

Full riche he was astorid full priuely

His lorde he couth plese skilfully

To lenne and gyfe hym of his oune gode

And haue a thanke and ȝit a cote and a hode

He was a gode wright a Carpent̉er

This reue sate vpon a well gode stotte

That was pomely gray and heght scotte

A longꝭ surcote of ypres vpon he hadde

Of Norfolk was the reue of wheche I tell

Beside a toun that hite Baldeswell

Tukkid he was as a frere aboute

And eủer he rode hynmost of oure route

That had a faire rede cherubyns face

For sawcefleme he was with eien narrowe

And hote he was and lecherous as a sparowe

With scallid browes blak and pillid berde

Ther nas quik silver litarge ne brymston

Boras ceruse ne oyle of tarter none

Nore vnyment that wolde clanse and bite

That him might helpe of his whelkis white

Well loued he garlik vneons and lekes

And for to drinke stronge wyne as blode

Thanne wolde he slepe and crie as he were wode

And whanne he had well dronken the wyne

Than nolde he speke no worde but latyne

A fewe termes had he ij or iij

No wonder is he herde it alle þe day

And eke ye knowe well that a Iay

Can clepe wat as well as the pope

But who couthe him in other thingꝭ grope

A questio que iuris wolde he crie

He was a gentill harlot and a kynde

A bett̉er fellowe shulde no man fynde

He wolde suffre for a quarte of wyn

A tuelmonth and excuse him atte full

Full priuely a fyn eke couth he pull

And yif he fonde any gode felawe

He wolde teche him to haue non awe

But yif mannes soule were in his purs

For in his purs shuld he ponyste be

The purs is the Archedekens hell qduod he

But well I wote he leide in dede

For cursyngꝭ sleith right as asoillyngꝭ saueth

And also be warre him of a significauit

In danger hadde he atte his oune gise

The yonge girles of the diocise

A garland had he vp on his heued

As grete as it were for an Ale stake

A Bukeler had he made hym of a cake

With him ther rode a gentill ꝑpardoner

That streight was come from the courte of Rome

Full loude he sange come hidder loue to me haue done

This sompnour bare with him a stiffe burdoun

Was neủer trompe of halfe so grete a soun

Smothe it was and hange as Flex

Be vnces hange his lockes that he hadde

And there with he his shuldres ouer spradde

But thyn it lay be culpons one and one

For it was trussid vp in his Walet

Him thoght he rode alle of the newe get

Discheuele safe his cappe he rode al bare

Suche glaryngꝭ eien had he as an hare

His walet before hym in his lappe

Bratfull of ꝑpardon that come from Rome alle hote

A voice he had as smale as hathe a gote

No berde hadde he nor neủer shuld haue

I trowe he were a gildyngꝭ or a mare

But of his Crafte from Berwyk vn to ware

Ne was there suche a pardonere

From his male he had a pillowe bere

He saide he had eke a gobet of the sele

That seint petir hadde whan þat he wente

Vppon the see till IħuIhesu criste hym hente

He hadde of crosse of laton full of stones

But with thes relykes whan that he fonde

A pore ꝑperson dwellingꝭ vp on londe

Vp on a day he gate him more money

Then the ꝑperson gate in mounthes twey

He made the ꝑperson and the peple his apes

But trewely to telle atte laste

He was in chirche a noble eccleciaste

Well couth he rede a leson or a story

For well he wyste whan that was songe

He moste preche and well afyle his tonge

To wyn silver as he well cowde

Therefore he sangꝭ the meuell cowde

The state the aray the nombre ⁊and the cause

Whi that assemblid was this Cumpany

In suthwerk atte this gentill hostery

That heght the tabt faste be the bell

Howe that we bare vs the same nyght

Whan we were in that ostry a right

And after will I telle of oure viage

And alle the remanent of oure pilgrimage

That ȝe directe it not my vilany

Thogh I pleynly speke in this matere

To tell you her wordes and her chere

And thowe I speke here wordes ꝓpropirly

Who shall telle a tale after a man

He moste rehers as ney as euer he can

Criste spake him self full brode in holy writte

Eke plato seith who can hym rede

The worde moste be cusyn to the dede

Also I pᵃy you for ȝife it me

All thof I haue not sette folke in her degre

My witte is shorte ye may well vnderstonde .

Grete chere made oure oste to vs eủerychon

And to sopere he sette vs and that anon

He seruid vs with vitaill atte beste

A semelich man oure hoste was with alle

For to haue ben an vssher of an halle

A large man was he with yen stepe

A fairer burgeis was none in chepe

And of manhode lackid him right noght

Eke there to he was a mery man

And aft̉er soper to pley he began

And spake of myrthe amonges otherþinges

And saide þus lordyngꝭes trewly

Ye ben welcome to me hertely

For be my trowthe yf that I shulde not lie

I ne sawe this yere so mery a companye

Fayne wolde I do you myrthe wiste I howe

And of mirthe I am right well be thought

To do you ese and it shall coste you not

Ye gone to Caunterbury god you spede

And well I wote as ye go by þe way

Ye shapen yow to talken and play

For trewly comforte ne myrth is none

To ride be the way as dome as stone

As I saide erste and do you some comforte

And yif you likith alle be one assente

For to stonde atte my Iugement

And for to werche right as I shall saye

Nowe be my fadres soule that is dede

But yf ye be mery I gyue you myn hede

Holde vp youre hondes with oute more speche

Oure counsaill was not longe to seche

And grauntid him with oute more avys

And badde hym sey his verdite as hym liste

Lordyngꝭes qd he nowe herkeneth the beste

But takith it not I pray you in disdayne

That eủeryche of you to shorte his weye

In this viage shall telle tales tweye

To Caunterbury wardes I mene it so

And homewardes he shalle telle other two

And wheche of you berith him beste of alle

That is to say telleth in this caas

Tales of beste sentence and solas

Shall haue a soper atte oure alther coste

Whanne that we come agayn from Caunt̉erbury

And for to make you the more mery

I wille my selfe gladliche with you ride

Atte myn oune coste and be youre gide

Shall paye alle that we spende be the waye

And ye vouchesaufe that it be so

Telle me anone with oute wordes mo

And I will erely shape me there fore

With full glad herte and praide hym also

That he wolde vouchesafe so to do

And that he wolde be oure gouernoure

And of oure tales Iuge and reportoure

And we wolde rewlid be atte his devyce

In high and lowe ⁊and þus be one assente

We ben accordid to his Iugemente

And there vp on the wyne was fette anone

With oute any lenger tarying

On the morue whan the day gan springe

Vp rose oure oste that was oure kok

And gadrid vs to gedre in a flok

Vn to the waterynge of seint Thomas

And ther oure oste began his hors arreste

And saide sires herkenith yif you liste

I wote your forwarde ⁊and I shall you recorde

Late se nowe who shall tell firste his tale

As euer mote I drinke wyn or ale

Who so be rebell to my Iugement

Shall paie for alle that be the wai y spente

He wheche hathe the shortest shall be gyn

Sire knyght qd he my Maister and lorde

Nowe drawith Cut for that is myn accorde

Cometh nere qd he my lady prioresse

Ne studieth not lay honde on eủery man

And anone to drawe iche wight be gan

And schortely to tell as it was

Were it be auenture sort or cas

Of wheche ful glad was eủery wight

And tell moste his tale as resoun was

Be forward and composicou

As ye haue herde what nedith wordis moo

As he that wis was and obedient

Toke his forwarde be his owne assent

He saide sethens I shall begynne the game

Welcome be the Cut in goddis name

And with that worde we ryden forthe oure way

Here bigynneth the knightes tale of Arcite and palamon

Whilom as olde stories tellen vs

Ther was a duke that hight Thesius

Of Athenes he was lorde and goủernour

And in his tyme suche a conquerour

Full many a riche Cuntre had he wone

What with his wisdome ⁊and his chiualrye

He conquered all the regne of femeny

That whilom̄ was callid Cithia