Sl1 · London, British Library Sloane MS 1685

Canterbury Tales Project.

talesofcanterbury.org/GP/xml/transcripts/Sl1/

[10r]

He wolde suffre for a quart of wyne

A good felowe to haue his concubyne

A twelf monthe and excuse hym atte fulle

Ful priuyly ek a fynche couthe he pulle

And if he fonde owhere a goode felawe

He wolde techen hym to haue noon awe

In sich cas of the erchedekenes curs

But if mannes soule were in his purs

For in his purs he shulde punyshid be

Purs is the erchedekenes helle seide he

But wel I wote he lied riȝt in dede

Of cursing ouȝt ech gylty man hym drede

For curs wole sle right as assoyling sauith

And also ware hym of a signyficauit

In daunger hadde he at his owne gise

Tho yonge gerles of the diocise

And knewe her councel and what was al her rede

A garland hadde he sette vppon his heede

As gret as it were for an ale stake

A bokeler hadde he made him of a cake

¶ With him ther rode a gentyl pardoner

Of Rouncevale his frend ⁊and his comper

That streight was comen fro þe court of Rome

Ful loude songe he come hidir to me loue come

This somynour bar to hym a stif burdoun

Was neuere trumpe of half so greet a sown

This pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wax

But smothe it henge as doth a stryk of flax

By ounces henge his lokkis that he hadde

And therwith he his shuldris ouerspradde

But thynne it lay by colpoıı̄uns oon ⁊and oon

But hoode for Iolite weride he noon

For it was trussed up in his walet

Hym thought he rode al of the newe get

Discheuele saf his cappe roode al bare

Sich glaring eyghen hadde he as an hare

[10v]

A vernycle hadde he sewid uppon his cappe .

His walet biforne hym in his lappe .

Bretful of pardoun comen fro Rome al hote

A voys he hadde as smal as a gote

No berd hadde he ne neuere shulde haue

As smothe it was as it were late shaue

I trowe he were a gelding or a mare

But of his craft fro berwyk into ware

Ne was ther sich another pardoner

For in his male he hadde a pilowbere

Which that he seide was oure lady veyle

He seide he hadde a gobet of the seylke

That seynt petir hadde whanne that he wente .

Vppon the see til IħuIhesu crist hym hente

He hadde a Croys of latoun ful of stones

And in a glas he hadde pigges bones

But with these whanne that he fonde

A pouer persoıı̄un dwellinge vppon londe

Vppon a day he gat he gat hym more moneye

Than the persoıı̄un gat in monthes tweye

And thus with feyned flatering ⁊and Iapes

He made the pesoıı̄un and the puple his apes

But trewly to tellen atte the laste

He was in chirche a noble ecciaste .

Wel couthe he rede a lessoıı̄un or a storye

But alther best he songe an offertorye

For wel he wiste whanne that song was songe

He most preche and wel affile his tonge

To wynne siluer as he wel cowde

Therfore he song so merily and lowde

Now haue I tolde yow sothly in a clause

The estat the array the nombre ⁊and ek the cause

Why that assemblid was this companye

In southwerk at this gentil hosterie

That hight the tabbard fast by the belle

But now is tyme to yow for to telle

[11r]

How that we beren vs that ilk nyght

Whanne we were in that Osterie a lyght

And aftir wole I tellen of oure viage

And al the remenaunt of oure pilgrimage

But first I preye yow of youre curtesye

That ye ne rette it not my vylonye

Though that I pleynly speke in this matere

To tellen yow her wordis and her chere

Ne though I speke her wordis ꝓpropurly

For this ye knowen as wel as I .

Who so shal tellen a tale aftir a man

He moot reherce as nygh as euer he kan

Euerich a word if it be in his charge

Al speke he neuere so rudely ⁊and large

Or elles he moot telle his tale vntrewe

Or feyne thingis or fynde wordis newe

He may nought spare al though he were his brother

He mote also wel seie o word as an oþer

Crist spak hym self ful brode in holy writt

And wel ȝe wote no velonye is itte

Eke plato seith who so kan hym rede

The wordes mot be Cosyn to the dede

Also I preye yow foryeue it me

Al haue I not sett folk in her degre

Heere in this tale as that they shulde stonde

My witt is short ye may wel vndirstonde

Gret chere made oure Ost vs euerichon

And to the soꝑper sette he us anoon

He seruyde us with vitayles atte the beste

Strong was the wyne and wel drynke us leste

A semely man oure Ost was with alle

Forto ben a marchall in an halle

A large man he was with yghen stepe

A fairer burgeys is noon in chepe

Bolde of his speche and wys ⁊and wel taught

And of manhode hym lakkide right nought

[11v]

Eke therto he was right a mery man

And aftir soper pleyn he bygan .

And spak of mirthe among and othere thingis

Whanne that he hadde mad oure rykenynges

And seide thus now lordyngis trewly

Ye ben to me welcome ryght hertily

For certis yf that I shal not lye

I sawe nought this yere so mery a companye

At ones in this herborowe as it now

Fayn wolde I don you myrthe wiste I how

And of a myrthe I am right now bithought

To don yow ese and it shal coste nought

Ye gon to Caunterbery god yow spede

The blisfull martir quyte you youre mede

And wel I wote as ye gon by the weye

Ye schapen yow to talen and to pleye

For truly comfort ne mirthe is noon

To riden by the weye doumbe as a stoon

And therfore wole y maken you disport

As I seide arst and don yow som comfort .

And if yow liketh alle by oon assent

Forto stonden att my Iuggement

And forto werken as I shal yow seye

To morowe whanne ye riden by the weye

Now so god saue me at my most nede

But ye be merie I wole yeue yow myn heede

Holde up youre hondis withoute more speche

Oure councel was not long forto seche

Vs thought it was not worth to make to wys

And grauntide hym withouten more avys.

And bade hym seie his verdoit as hym liste

Lordlyngis qd he herkeneth now for the beste

But take it nought I praie ȝow in disdeigne

This is the poynt to speke short and pleigne

That eche of yow to short with oure weye

In this viage shal telle tales tweye

[12r]

To caunterbury ward I mene it so

And homward he shal tellen other two

Of auentoures that haue bifalle

And which of yow that berith hym best of alle

That is to seyn that tellith in this cas

Tales of best sentence and moost solas

Shal haue a souper at oure aldercost

Here in this place sittynge bi this post

Whānne that we comen ageyn fro Cauntirbury

And forto make yow the more myry

I wole my siluen goodly with ȝou ride

Right at myn owne caste and be youre gyde

And who so wole my iugement withseye

Shal paye al that we spende by the weye

And if ye vouche saaf that it be so

Telle me anoon without ony word moo

And I wole erly shape me therfore

This thing was graunted ⁊and oure othes swore

With ful glad herte and preien him also

That he wolde vouche saaf forto do soo

And that he wolde be oure gouernour

And of oure tales Iugge and reportour

And sette a soper / at a certeyn prys

And we wolen reuled ben at youre deuys

In high and logh and thus by oon assent

We ben acordid to the Iuggement

And theruppon the wyn was fet anoon

We dronken and to rest wente echon

Withouten ony lenger tariyng

A morow whanne the day gan to springe

Vp roos oure oost and was oure alde cok

And gaderede us to gidr in a flok

And forth we riden a litil more than pas

Onto the watering of seynt Thomas

And there oure oost gan his hors areste

And seide lordis herkeneth if yow leste

[12v]¶ Prologus

Ye wote youre forward and I it yow recorde

If euensong and morowe song accorde

Let se now who shal telle the firste tale

As euere mote I drynke wyn or ale

Who so rebelle to my Iuggement

Shal paye for all that by the weye is spent

Now drawith Cutt er that ye ferther /twynne

Which that hath the shortest shal bigynne

¶ Sir knyght qdquod he my maister / and my lord

Now drawith Cutt for that is accord

Cometh nere qd he my lady prioresse

And ye sir clerk lat be youre shamfastnesse

Ne studieth noght leye hond to euery man

Anoon to drawe euery wight bigan .

And shortly forto tellen as it was

Were it by auenture or by sort or cas

The sothe is the Cutt fel to the knyght

Of which ful blythe and glad was euery wight

And tellen he most his tale as it was resoun

By forward and by composicioun

As ye han herd what nedith wordes moo

And whanne this gode man sawe that it was soo

As he that wys was and obedient

To kepen his forward by his fre assent

He seide sithen I shal bigynne the game

What welcome be the Cut a goddis name .

Now lat us ride and herkneth what I seie

And with that word we riden forth oure weye

And he bigan with riȝt a mery chere

His tale anoon and seide as ye may heere

Iamqȝue domos patrias scithie post p̉relia gentis ·
Prelia laurigero ⁊and cẻtera

¶ Heere endith the prolog of
this book 

and heere bigynneth the first tale which is the knygh
te tale