Wy · London, British Library G.11587 (1)=IB.55210 (Wynkyn de Worde)
Canterbury Tales Project.
talesofcanterbury.org/GP/xml/transcripts/Wy/
[a3r]Prologus
Whan þᵗat Apryll wyth his shoures sote
Þᵉ drouȝt of Marche had percid þᵉ rote
And bathed ēueri veyn̄ in suche lycour
Of whyche vertue engendryd is the flour
Whanne zepherus also wyth his sote breth
Enspyred hath in euery holte and heth
The tendre croppys and the yonge sonne
Hath in the ram half his cours y ronne
And smale foules make melodye
That slepe all nyght wyth open eye
So prycketh them nature in ther corages
Then longeth folke to go on pylgrymages
And palmers to seke straunge strondis
To serue halowys couthe in sondry londes
And specyally fro euery shyres ende
Of englonde to caunterbury they wende
The holy blysfull martyr for to seke
That them hath holpe whan they were seke
Befyll that seson on a daye
In suthwerk atte taberde as I laye
Redy to goo on my pylgrymage
To caunterbury wyth deuowte corage
That nyght was come in to that hostelrye
Well nyne and twenty in a companye
Of sondry folke by auenture y falle
In felyshyp ⁊and pylgrymes were they alle
That towarde caunterbury wolde ryde
The chambres ⁊and the stables were wyde
And well were we esyd atte best
And shortly whan the sonne was at rest
So had I spoke wyth them euerychon
That I was of ther felyshyd anon
And made promyse erly for to ryse
To take our waye there as I you deuyse
But netheles whyle I haue tyme ⁊and space
Or that I ferder in this tale pace
Me thynketh it accordaunt to reson
To tell you all the condycyon
Of eche of them so as it semyd me
And whyche they were ⁊and of what degre
And in what araye also they were in
And at a knyght thenne I woll begyn
a iijA Knyghte there was a worthy man
That fro the tyme þᵗat he fyrst began
To ryde out he lonyd chyualrye
Trouthe ⁊and honour fredom ⁊and curtesye
Full worthy he was in his lordys werre
And therto had he ryden no man ferre
And as wel in cristendom as in hethenesse
And euer had honour for his worthynesse
At alisaundre he was whan it was wonne
Full oft tyme he had the bourde begonne
Abouen all nacyons in pruce
In lettow had he reysed ⁊and in ruse
No crysten man so often tymes as he
In garnade at the syge also had he be
At algezer and ryden in belmarye
At leyeys was he ⁊and also at satalye
Whan they were wonne ⁊and in the grete see
At many a noble arme had he be
At mortall bataylles had he be fyftene
And fought for our fayth at tramyssene
In lystis thryes and ay slayn his foo
This ylke worthy knyght had be also
Somtyme wyth the lorde of palathye
Agayn a nother hethen man in turkye
And euermore he had a souereyne prys
And though he was worthy he was wys
And of his port as meke as a mayde
Neuer yet noo vylanye he sayde
In all his lyf vnto no maner wyght
He was a very gentyll perfyght knyght
For to tell you of his aray
His hors were good but he was not gay
Of fustyan he ware a gyppion
All besmered wyth his hawbergeon
For he was late come fro his vyage
And sent for to do his pylgrymage
WYth hȳm ther was his sone a yonge squyre
A louer and a lusty bachelere
Wᵗith his lockys crulle as they wer layd in presse
Of twenty yere of aege he was I gesse
Of his stature he was of euen lengthe
And wonderly delyuer ⁊and of gret strengthe
And he had be somtyme in chyuauchye
In flaundres in artoys ⁊and in pycardye
And born hym well as of a lytyll space
In hope to stonde in his ladyes grace
Enbrowded was he as it were a mede
All full of fresshe floures whyte ⁊and rede
Syngyng he was or floytyng all the day
He was as fresshe as is the month of may
Short was his gowne wᵗith sleues long ⁊and wyde
Well cowde he sytte on hors ⁊and therto fayr ryde
He cowde songes make ⁊and well endyte
Ioust ⁊and daunce portraye ⁊and also wryte
So hote he loued that by nyghter tale
He slepte nomore than a nyghtyngale
Curteys he was lowly and seruysable
He keruid before his fader at the table
A Yeman had he ⁊and seruauntes nomo
At that tyme for he lyst to ryde so
And he was clad in cote ⁊and hode of grene
A sheef of pecok arowes bryght and shene
Vnder his gyrdyll he bare full thryftily
Well cowde he dresse his takyll yomanly
His arowes drowpid not wᵗith fethers lowe
And in his honde he bare a myghty bowe
A not hed he had wyth a browne vysage
Vpon his arme he bare a gay bracer
And by his syde a swerde ⁊and a bokeler
And on that other syde a gay daggare
Harneysid well ⁊and sharpe as poynt of spere
A cristofir on his brest of syluer shene
An horne he bare the bawdryk was of grene
A foster was he sothly as I gesse
THere was also a nonne a pryoresse
That of her smylyng was symple ⁊and koy
Her grettest othe was bi saynt loy
And she was callyd dame eglentyn
Ful well she songe tho seruyse dyuyne
Entoyned in her voys ful semely
And frensh she spake full fetously
After the scole of stratforde at the bowe
For frensh of parys was to her vnknowe
At mete well taught was she wyth all
She lete no morsell fro her lyppes fall
Ne wete her fyngres in her sauce depe
Well cowde she cary a morsell of mete
That no drope fyll vpon her brest
In curtesy was set full moche her lest
Her ouerlyppe whyped she so clene
That in her cuppe there was no ferthyng sene
Of grece / whan she had dronke her draught
Full semely after her mete she raught
And sykerly she was of grete dysport
Of pleysaunce ⁊and amyable of port
And peyned her to counterfete chere
Of courte and to be stately of manere
And to be holde dygne of reuerence
But for to speke of her conscyence
She was so charytable and so pyetous
She wolde wepe yf that she sawe a mous
Caught in trappe yfit were ded or bledde
Of smale houndes had she that she fedde
Wyth rost flessh or mylke or wastell bred
But sore wept she yf ony of them were ded
Of yf men smote them wyth rodde smert
And all was conscyence ⁊and tender hert
Full semely her wympyll pynched was
Her nose tretyse her eyen grey as gras
Her mouth smale and therto soft ⁊and reed
But sykerly she had a fayr forheed
It was almost a span brode I trowe
For hardly she was not vnder growe
Flul fetyse was her cloke as I was waar
Of smal corall abowte her arme she baar
A peyre of bedys / gauded all wyth grene
And theron henge a broche full shene
On whyche fyrst was wryte a crowned . a .
And after that . amor vincit omnia .
A nother nonne wyth her hath she
That was her chapeleyn ⁊and preestis thre
A Monke ther was fayr for the maystry
An out ryder þᵗat loued well venory
A manly man to be an abbot able
Full many a deynte hors had he in stable
And whan he rode men myght his bridyl here
Gyngelyng ⁊and whystelyng in the wynde clere
And also as lowde as doth the chapell belle
There as this lorde was keper of the celle
The rule of saynt Maure ⁊and of saynt Benet
By cause he helde it som what olde ⁊and streyt
This sayd monke lete olde thynges pace
And helde after the newe worlde the space
He yaf not of the text a pulled henne
That sayth that hunters be not holy men
Ne that a monke whan he is rechelees
Is lyke to a fysshe whan it is waterlees
This is to say a monke out of a cloystre
But þᵗat text helde he not worth an oystre
And I saye þᵗat his opynyon was good
What sholde he study ⁊and make hym wood
Vpon a boke alway in cloystre to powre
Or besy wyth his hondes and labowre
As austin biddeth hou shold þᵉ world be serued
Let austin haue his trauell to hym reserued
Therfore he was a prycasour a ryght
Grehoıı̄undes he had as swyft as foule in flyght
Of pryckyng ⁊and of huntyng for the hare
Was all his lust for no coste wolde he spare
I sawe his sleuys purfelyd at the honde
Wyth grice ⁊and that the fynest of a londe
And to faste his hode vnder the chynne
He had of golde wrought a curious pynne
A loue knot in the gretter ende there was
His hed was ballyd whyche shone as glas
And also his face as he had be anoynte
He was a lorde fatte and in good poynt
His eyen stepe ⁊and rollyng in his heed
That stemyd as a furneys of a leed
His botes sowple his hors in grete astate
Now certenly he was a fayr prelate
He was not pale as a fourpyned ghost
A fatte swan loued he best of ony rost
His palfrey was as browne as a bery
A Frere ther was a wanton and a mery
A lymytour ⁊and a full solempne man
In all the ordres four is non that can
So moche of dalyaunce ⁊and fayr langage
He had made full many a fayr maryage
Of yong wȳmmen at his owne cost
Vntyll his ordre he was a noble post
Full welbeloued ⁊and full famylyer was he
Wyth frankeleyns ouer all in his countre
And also wyth worthy yemen of the toun
For he had power of confessyon
As sayd hymself more than a curat
And of his ordre he was licenciat
Ful swetly herde he confessyon
And plesaunt was his absolucyon
And an esy man to geue penaunce
Ther he wyste to haue good pytaunce
For vnto a poore ordre for to geue
Is sygne that a man is well y shryue
For yf he yaue . he durst make auaunt
He wyste that a man was repentaunt
Many a man so harde is of herte
He may not wepe though he sore smerte
Therfore in stede of wepyng ⁊and prayres
Men must yeue syluer to the poore freres
His typet was yfarsed full of knyues
And wyth pynnes to geue fayre wyues
And certeyn he hadde a mery note
Merily cowde he synge ⁊and pleye at the rote
Of yeddynges he bare vtterly the prys
His necke was whyte as the flour delys
Therto stronge he was as a champyoun
And knewe the tauernes well in euery toun
And euery hosteler and tapstere
Better than a lazer or a beggestere
For vnto suche a worthy man as he
Acordyth not as by his faculte
To haue of suche lazers acqueyntaunce
It is not honest it may not auaunce
For to dele wyth suche poraylle
But wyth ryche ⁊and sellers of vytalle
And ouer all there as rychesse sholde aryse
Curteys he was ⁊and lowely of seruyse
Ther was no man nowher so vertuous
He was the best beggere in his hous
And yaf a certeyn ferme for the graunt
None of his brethern cam in his haunt
For though a wydowe had not a shoo
So plesaunt was his Inprincipio
Yet wolde he haue a ferthyng or he went
His purchace was better than his rent
And barke he cowde as it were a whelpe
In louedayes there cowde he moche helpe
For ther he nas lyke a cloysterer
Wyth a thredebare cope as a poore frere
But he was lyke a mayster or a pope
Of dowble worstede was his semy cope
That rounde was as a belle out of presse
Som what he lysped for his wantonnesse
To make his englysshe swete vpon his tonge
And in harpyng whan he had y songe
His eyen twynklyd in his heed aryght
As doon the sterris in the frosty nyght
This worthy frere was called hubberd
A Marchaunt ther was wᵗith a forkid berd
In motley on hygh on his hors he sat
Vpon his heed a flaundres beuer hat
His botys claspyd fayr ⁊and fetously
His resons he spake full solempnely
Shewyng alway the encresse of his wynnyng
He wolde the see were kept for ony thyng
Betwyxe myddelborough ⁊and orewelle
Well cowde he in his eschaunges selle
This worthy man his wytte full well besette
There wyst no wyght that he was in dette
So estatly he was of gouernaunce
With his bargeyns ⁊and wyth his cheuesaunce
Forsothe he was a worthy man wyth all
But soth to say I not how men hym call
A clerk ther was of oxenforde also
That vnto logyk had longe y go
As lene was his hors as a rake
And he was not ryght fat I vndertake
But lokyd holow ⁊and therto soberly
Full thredebare was his ouerest courtby
For he had gote hym yet no benefyce
Ne was not worldly to haue an offyce
For hȳm was leuer to haue at his beddes heed
Twenty bokes y clad in whyt ⁊and reed
Of aristotle and of his phylosophye
Than robes ryche or fydyll or sawtrye
But all be that he was a phylosophre
Yet had he but lytyll golde in cofre
But all þᵗat he myght of his frendes hent
On bokys ⁊and on lernynge he it spent
And besyly gan for the sowles praye
Of them that yaf hym wherwyth to scolaye
Of study toke he moost cure ⁊and hede
Not a worde spake he more than nede
And that was sayd in fourme ⁊and reuerence
Short ⁊and quyck ⁊and full of hygh sentence
Sownyng morall vertu was his speche
And gladly wolde he lerne ⁊and gladly teche
A sergaunt of lawe ware ⁊and wyse
Was there that ofte had be at the peruyse
That was also full ryche of excellence
Dyscrete he was of grete reuerence
He semyd suche his wordes were so wyse
Iustyse he was full ofte in assyse
By patent ⁊and by playn commyssyon
For his scyence ⁊and his hygh renoun
Of fees ⁊and robes had he many on
So gret a purchasour was there nowher non
All was fee symple to hym in effecte
His purchace myght not be to hym suspecte
Nowhere so besy a man as he ther nas
And yet he semyd besyer than he was
b i
In termes had he caas ⁊and domes alle
That fro þᵉ tyme of kyng wylliam were falle
Therto he cowde endyte ⁊and make a thyng
Ther coude no wyght pynche at his writyng
And euery statute cowde he playn by rote
He rode but homely in a medlyd cote
Y gyrt wyth a seynt of sylk wᵗith barrys smale
Of his aray telle I no lenger tale
A Frankeleyn was in his companye
Whyte was his berde as is the deysie
And of his complexyon was sanguyn
Well loued he by the morowe a cup wyn
To lyue in delyte was euer his wone
For he was epycuries owne sone
That helde opynyon that playn delyte
Was very felycyte perfyte
An housholder ⁊and that a grete was he
Saynt Iulian he was in his contre
His brede his ale was alway after one
A better vyned man was no where none
Wythout bake mete was he neuer in his hous
His fyssh his flessh and that so plenteuous
It snewed in his hous of mete and drynke
Of all deyntes that men cowde thynke
After the sondry seson of the yere
So changed he his mete ⁊and his suppere
Full many a fat partrych had he in mewe
And many a breme ⁊and luce in stewe
Wo was his coke but his sawce were
Poynant ⁊and sharpe ⁊and redy all his gere
His table dormaunt in his halle alway
Was redy couered all the longe day
At sessyons ther was he lorde ⁊and syre
Full ofte tyme he was knyght of the shyre
A anlace ⁊and a gypser all of sylk
Hyng at his gyrdyl as whyte as morow mylk
A shyreyf had he be and a coronour
Was nowher suche a worthy vauesour
AN haberdassher ther was ⁊and a carpenter
A webbe a dyer and a tapyser
And they were clothed all in o lyuere
Of a solempne and grete fraternyte
Full fressh ⁊and newe ther gere pyked was
Ther knyues chapyd were not wyth bras
But all wᵗith syluer wrought full clene ⁊and wele
Ther gyrdelys ⁊and ther powchys euerydele
Well semyd eche of them a fayr burgeys
To sytte in the yelde halle at the deys
Euerych for the wysdom that he can
Was haply for to be an aldyrman
For cateyll had they ynough ⁊and rent
And ther wyues wolde it well assent
And ellys certeyn they were to blame
It is full fayr to be callyd madame
And go to the vigyllis all before
And haue a mantell ryally ybore
A coke they had wᵗith them for the nonys
To boyle the chekyns ⁊and the mary bonys
And powder marchaunt tart ⁊and galyngale
Wel knewe he a draught of london ale
He cowde roste sethe broyle and frye
Make mortrewys and well bake a pye
But grete harm was it as it thoughte me
For on his shynne a mormall had he
And blanke manger made he wyth the best
A shypman was ther þᵗat woned fer by west
For ought I wote he was of derthemouthe
He rode vpon a rowncy as he couthe
In a gowne foldyng to the kne
A dagger on a lace hangyng had he
Abowte his necke vnder his arm a downe
The hote somer had made his hew al browne
Aod certaynly he was a good felawe
Full many a draughte wyn he had drawe
Fro burdeux ward whyle the chapman sleep
Of nyce conscyence toke he no keep
Yf þᵗat he faught and had the hygher honde
By water he sent them hom to euery londe
But of his craf to reken well his tydes
His stremys ⁊and his daungers hym besydes
His herberugh his mone ⁊and his lodemanage
Ther was none suche from hulle to cartage
Hardy he was ⁊and ware to vndertake
Wyth many a tempest his berde hath he shake
He knewe all the hauenes that there were
Fro gotelonde in to capfenestre
And euery creke in brytayne ⁊and in spayne
His barge was called the mawdeleyne
WYth vs there was a doctour in physyk
In the worlde was there none hym lyk
To speke of phisyk and surgerye
For he was groıı̄unded in astronomye
He kepte his pacyente a grete deel
In houres by magyk natureell
Well cowde he of fortune the assendent
Of his ymages for his pacyent
He knewe the cause of euery maladye
Were it of colde hete moyst or drye
And were engendred of what humour
He was a very perfyght practesour
The cause p know ⁊and of his harm the rote
Anon he yaf to the syk man his bote
For redy alway ben his apotecaryes
To sende hym drugges ⁊and his lectuaryes
For eche of them made other for to wynne
Her frendshyp was not newe to begynne
Full well knewe he the olde esculapius
And discorides and also rusus
Olde ypocras / haly ⁊and also galien
Serapyon rasis and also auicen
Aueroys damascene ⁊and constantyn
Bernarde gatisden and gylbertyn
Of his dyete mesurable was he
For it was of no superfluyte
But of grete nourysshynge ⁊and dygestyble
His stody was but lytyll on the byble
In sangwen ⁊and in perce y clad wyth all
Lyned wyth taffata ⁊and wyth sandall
And lytyll he was of his dyspence
He kepte that he wan in the pestylence
For golde in physyk is a cordyall
Therfore he louyd golde in especyall
A good wyf ther was of besyde bathe
And she was somdell def ⁊and that was scathe
Of cloth makyng had she suche an haunt
She passyd them of ypre ⁊and of gaunt
In all the parysshe wyf was ther non
That to the offrynge before her sholde goon
And yf ther dyde certeyn wroth was she
Then was she oute of all charyte
Her kercheuys full fyne were of grounde
I durste swere they weyed thre pounde
That on a sonday were on her hed
Her hosyn were of fyne scarlot reed
Full streyte y teyed ⁊and shoes full moyst ⁊and newe
Bolde was her face fayr ⁊and redde of hewe
She was a worthy woman all her lyue
Husbondes at the chyrche dore had she fyue
Wythout other company in youthe
But herof nedyth not to speke wyth mouthe
At acres had she ben and at Ierusaleme
She had passyd thorugh many a strange reme
At rome she had be and at boloyne
At saynt Iamys in galys and at coloyne
She cowde moche of wandryng in the waye
Gap tothed was she sothly to saye
Vpon an ambuler full easely she sat
Ywympled well ⁊and on herheed an hat
As brode as it were a bokeler or a targe
A foot mantyll abowte her hyppes large
And on her helys a payre of sporys sharpe
In felyshyp cowde she laugh ⁊and carpe
Of remedyes of loue she cowde per chaunce
For of þᵗat arte she cowde the olde daunce
A Good man there was of relygyon
And was a poore person of a toun
But ryche he was of holy thoughte ⁊and werk
He was also a lernyd man ⁊and a clerk
That cristis gospellis truely wolde preche
His paryshons deuowtly wolde he teche
Benygne he was ⁊and wonder dylygent
And in aduersyte full pacyent
And suche he was prouyd ofte sythes
Full lothe were he to curse for his tythes
But rather wolde he yeue out of doute
Vnto his poore paryshons aboute
Of his offryng ⁊and also of his substaunce
He cowde in lytyll thynge haue suffysaunce
Wyde was his parisshe ⁊and houses ferre a sondre
But he let not for rayn ne for thondre
In syknesse ner in myscheyf to vysyte
The ferrest in his paryssh more ⁊and lyte
Vpon his fete ⁊and in his honde a staf
This noble ensample vnto his shepe he yaf
That fyrst he wrought ⁊and afterwarde taught
Out of the gospel the wordes he caught
And this fygure he ekyd therto
That yf golde ruste what sholde yren do
For a preest to be fowle in whom we truste
No wonder is a lewde man to ruste
And shame it is yf a preest take kepe
A slusty sheperde ⁊and a clene shepe
Well ought a preest ensample to gyue
By his clennesse how his shepe sholde lyne
Be sette not his benefyce to hyre
And lete his shepe acombre in the myre
And renne to london to saynt poulis
And seke hym a chauntrye for soulis
Other wyth a bretherhede to be wytholde
But dwelle at home ⁊and kepe his folde
So þᵗat the wulf ne may not it myscarye
He was a shepeherde ⁊and not a mercenarye
And though he holy were and vertuous
He was not to synfull men to dyspytous
Ne of his techynge daungerous ne dygne
But in his speche dyscrete ⁊and benygne
To drawe folke to heuen with fayrnesse
By good ensample this was his besynesse
But it were ony persone obstynat
Whether he were of hyghe or lowe estat
Hym wolde he snybbe sharply for the nonys
A better preest I trowe nowhere none is
He wayted after no pompe ne reuerence
Ne made to hym a spyced conscyence
But cristis lore ⁊and his appostles twelue
He taught but fyrst he folowed hymselue
WYth him there was a plowman his brod
That had led of dunge many a fother
A true labourer ⁊and good was he
Lyuynge in peas ⁊and perfyt charyte
God loued he best wyth all his herte
At all tymes though he gamyd or smerte
And then his neyghbour ryght as hymselue
He wolde thresse and thereo dygge ⁊and delue
For cristis sake for euery poore wyght
Wythout hyre yf it laye in his myght
His tythes payed he bothe fayre ⁊and well
Of his propre labur and his catell
In a tabard he rode vpon a mere
There was also a reue ⁊and also a myllere
A sompnour ⁊and a pardoner also
A mancyple ⁊and myself ther was no mo
THe myllere was a stout carle for þᵉ nonys
Full bygge he was of brawne ⁊and bonys
That proued well for ouer all there he came
At wrastlynge alway he wolde haue the ram
He was short sholdred brode a thicke quarre
Ther was no dore þᵗat he nolde heue of þᵉ barre
Or breke it at rennynge wyth his hed
His berde as ony sowe or foxe was red
And therto brode as it were a spade
Vp on the cop ryght of his nose he hade
A werte and theron stode a tufte of heris
Rede as the brystylis of a sowes eris
His nostrellys black were ⁊and wyde
A swerde ⁊and a bokeler bare he by his syde
His mouth as grete was as a furneys
He was a Iangelere and a golyardeys
And þᵗat was most of synne and harlotryes
Well cowde he stele corne ⁊and tolle thryes
And that he had a thombe of golde parde
A whyt cote ⁊and a blewe hode weryd he
A bagge pype cowde he blowe and sowne
And therwyth he brought vs out of towne
A gentyll mancyple was there of the tēmple
Of whyche a catour myghte take exēmple
For to be wyse in byenge of vitayll
For whether he payde or toke by tayll
Algate he wayted so on his achate
That he was ay before ⁊and in good state
Now is it not that of god a fayr grace
That suche a lewde mannys wyte shall pace
The wysdom of an hepe of lernyd men
Of maysters had he moo than thryes ten
That were of lawe experte ⁊and curyous
Of whyche there were a dosen in that hous
Worthy to be stywardes of rente ⁊and londe
Of ony lorde that is in englonde
To make hym lyue by his owne good
In honour detles but he were wood
Other lyue scarsely as hym lyst desyre
And able for to helpe all the shyre
In ony cause that myghte falle or happe
And yet this mancyple set all ther cappe
A Reue there was a slender coleryk man
His berde was shaue as nyghe as he can
His heris were by his erys rounde y shore
His top was dockyd lyk a prest before
Full longe were his legges ⁊and full lene
Lyke a staf ther nys no calf y sene
b iiiWell cowde he kepe a garner ⁊and a bynne
Ther was non auditour coude of hym wynne
Well wyst he by the droughte ⁊and by the rayn
The yeldynge of his sede ⁊and of his grayn
His lordis shepe his neet and his deyrie
His swyne his hors his store ⁊and his pultrye
Was hooly in this reuys gouernyng
And by his couenaunt yaf the rekenyng
Syth his lorde was twenty yere of aege
Ther cowde noman brynge hym in arerage
Ther nas baylly ne none other hyne
That he ne knewe his sleyghte or his couyne
They were of hym adrad as of the deth
His dwellyng was full fayr vpon an heth
Wyth grene trees shadowed was his place
He cowde better than his lorde purchace
Full ryche he was astoryd pryuely
His lorde well he cowde pleace subtylly
To yeue and lene to hym of his owne good
And haue thank and yet a cote ⁊and an hood
In youthe he had lerned a good mystere
He was a wel good wryght a carpentere
This reue sat vpon a wel good stot
That was all pomell grey ⁊and lyght scot
A long surcote vpon hym he hadde
And by his syde he bare a rusty bladde
Of northfolk was this reue of whyche I telle
Besyde a towne men calle baldeswelle
Tuckyd he was as is a frere abowte
And euer he rode the hynderest of the rowte
Sompnour wyth vs was in that place
That had a fyre redde cherubyns face
For sausfleme he was wyth eyen narow
Hote he was and lykorous as a sparow
Wyth blak browes skallyd ⁊and pylled berde
Of his vysage chyldren wrre a ferde
Ther nas quyksylner lytarge ne brymstone
Borace ceruse ne oyle of tarter none
Ne oynement that wolde clense ⁊and byte
That hym myght helpe of his whelkis whyte
Ne of his knobbys syttyng on his chekys
Well loued he oynons garlyk ⁊and lekys
And for to drynk strong wyn as red as blood
Then wolde he speke ⁊and crye as he were wood
And whan he had well dronk the wyn
Then wolde he speke no worde but latyn
A fewe termes had he two or thre
That he had lerned of som man of decree
No wonder is he herde it all the day
And also ye knowe well that a Iay
Can calle watte as well as can the pope
But who cowde hym in other thynges grope
Then had he spent all his phylosophye
Ay questio quid queris wolde he crye
He was a gentyll harlot and a kynde
A better felowe sholde men not fynde
He wolde suffre for a quart of wyn
A good felowe to haue his concubyn
A twelne monthe ⁊and excuse hym at the fulle
Full pryuely a fynche also cowde he pulle
And yf he founde o wher a good felawe
He wolde teche hym anon to haue awe
In suche caas as the arched ekenes crs
But yf mannys soule were in his purs
For in his purs he sholde punysshed be
Purs is the archedekenes helle sayd he
But well I wote he lyed ryght in dede
Of cursyng ought eche man to drede
For cursyng woll sle ryght as soyllyng saueth
And also ware hym of a significauit
In daunger had he at his owne gyse
All the yonge gyrles of the dyocyse
And knewe of ther coıı̄unsell ⁊and was of ther rede
A garlonde he had set vpon his hede
As grete as it were an alestake
A bokeler had he made hym of a cake
Wyth hym there rode a gentyll pardoner
Of rouncyuale his frende ⁊and his comper
That streyȝt was come fro the court of rome
Full lowde he songe come hyther loue to me
This sompnour bare to hym a styf burdoun
Was neuer trompe of half so gret a soun
This pardoner had heer as yelowe as wexe
And smothe it hynge as doth a stryke of flexe
By hounses henge his lockys that he had
And therwyth his sholders ouersprad
But then it lay by culpons one and one
An hode for Iolyte ware he none
For it was trussyd vp in his walet
Hym thoughte he rode vpon the newe get
Dyssheuylde saue his cappe he rode all bare
Suche glaryng eyen had he as hath an hare
A vernacle had he sowed vpon his cappe
His walet beforn hym had he in his lappe
Brette full of pardon come fro rome all hote
A voys he had as small as hath a gote
No berde had he ne neuer sholde haue
As smothe was it as it were newe shaue
I trowe he were a geldyng or a mare
But of his craft from berwyk vnto ware
Ne was ther nowher suche a pardoner
For in his male he had a pylow beer
Whyche as he sayd was our ladyes veyll
He sayd he had a gobet of the seyll
That saynt peter had whan that he went
Vp on the see tyll Ihesus crist hym hent
He had a crosse of laton full of stonys
And in a glas he had pygges bonys
But wᵗith thyse relyques whan that he fonde
A poore persoıı̄un dwellyng vpon londe
Vpon a daye he gate hym more moneye
Than the persoıı̄un gate in monthis tweye
And thus had he feyned flateryes ⁊and Iapis
He made the person ⁊and the peple his apis
But truely to telle at the last
He was in chyrche a noble ecclesiast
Well cowde he rede a lesson or a story
But alderbest he songe an offretory
For well he wyst whan that songe was songe
He must preche ⁊and fyle a whyle his tonge
To wynne syluer as he full well cowde
Therfore he songe the merely ⁊and lowde
Now haue I told you shortly in a clause
The state þᵉ aray the nōmbre ⁊and the cause
Why that assembled was this companye
In suthwerk at this gentyll hostelrye
That hyghte the taberd fast by the belle
But now is tyme to you for to telle
How that we bare vs that ylke nyght
Whan that we were in the hostry a lyght
And after woll I telle of our vyage
And all the remenaunt of our pylgrymage
But fyrst I you praye of your curtesye
That ye ne arette it not my vylanye
Though that I playnly speke in this matere
To tell you ther wordes ⁊and ther chere
And though I speke ther wordes properly
For this ye knowe as well as I
Who shall a tale telle after a man
He muste reherce as nere as he can
Euery worde yf it be in his charge
All speke he neuer so rudely ⁊and so large
Or ellys he must telle his tale vntrewe
Or se thynges or feyne wordes newe
He may not spare all thouȝ he were his brother
He must as well say o worde as a nother
Crist spak hymself full brode in holy wryt
And well ye wote no vylany is it
Also plato sayth who so can it rede
The worde must be cosyn to the dede
Also I praye you foryeue it me
All though I sette not folke in ther degre
Here in thyse tales as they sholde stonde
My wyt is short ye may well vnderstonde
GRete chere made our ost to vs euerychon
And to supper sette he vs anon
He serued vs wyth vytaylle at the beste
Stronge was the wyne ⁊and well drynke vs lyste
A semely man our ost was wyth alle
For to be a marchall in a lordis halle
A large man he was wyth eyen stepe
A fayrer burgeys is there none in chepe
Bolde of his speche and well was he taught
And of manhode lackyd he ryght nought
Eke therto was he ryght a mery man
And after supper to playn he began
And spake of myrthe amonge other thynges
Whan that we had made our rekenynges
He sayd thus now lordynges truely
Ye be to me ryght welcome hertly
For by my trouth yf I shall not lye
I sawe not this yere so mery a company
At onys in this herborow as now
Feyne wolde I do you myrthe yf I wyst how
And of a myrthe I am ryght now bethought
To do you ease and it shall coste you nought
Ye go to Caunterbury ward god you spede
The blysfull martyr quyte you your mede
And well ye wote as ye go by the waye
Ye shapen you to talke and to playe
For truely comfort ne myrthe is noue
To ryde by the waye dombe as a stone
And therfore wyll I make you dysport
As I sayd erst and do you comfort
And yf it lyketh you all by one assent
For to stonde at my Iugement
And for to werke as I shall you say
To morow whan ye ryde on the way
Now by my faders soule that is ded
But ye be mery I shall yeue you my hed
Holde vp your honde wythout more speche
Our counsell shall not longe be to seche
Vs thought it was not worth to make vs wys
And graunted hym without more aduys
And bad hym saye his verdyt as hym leste
Lordynges quod he now herkeneth for the best
But take it not I pray you in disdeyne
This is the poynt to speke it short and playne
c iThat eche of you to shorte wyth your weye
In this vyage shall telle talys tweye
To caunterbury warde I meane it so
And hom warde he shall telle other tales two
Of auentures that whylom haue befalle
And whyche of you beryth hym best of alle
That is to saye that tellyth in this caas
Tales of best sentence and most solaas
Shall haue a supper of our alther cost
Here in this place syttynge by this post
Whan that we come ayen from Caunterbury
And for to make you the more mery
I wyll myself goodly wyth you ryde
Ryght at myn owne coste and be your guyde
And who that woll my Iugement wythsay
Shortly shal paye all that is spent by the way
And yf ye vouchesauf that it be soo
Telle me anone wythout wordes moo
And I woll erly shape me therfore
This thynge was graunted and othes swore
Wyth full glad herte and prayen hym also
That he wolde vouchesauf that it be so
And that he wolde be our gouernour
And of our tales Iuge ⁊and reportour
And sette a supper at a certayn pryce
And wolde be ruled at his deuyce
Hyghe and lowe and all by one assent
We be accorded to his Iugement
And there vpon the wyne was fet anone
We dronke and to rest went we echon
Wythout ony lenger taryenge
A morow whan the day gan sprynge
Vp rose our host and was all our cocke
And gadred vs togyder all in a flocke
And forth we ryden lytyll more than paas
Vnto the watrynge of saynt thomas
And there our host gan his hors areste
And sayd herkenyth lordynges yf ye lyste
Ye wote our forwarde and I you recorde
Yf euesonge and morow songe acorde
Let se now who shall telle the fyrste tale
As euer moot I drynke wyne or ale
Who so woll be rebell to my Iugement
Shall paye for all that is by the waye spent
NOw drawe cut or that ye further twynne
Whiche shall the fyrst tale begynne
Syre knyght quod he my mayster ⁊and my lorde
Now draweth cut for that is myn accorde
Come hyther quod he my lady pryoresse
And ye syre clerke lete by your shamfastnesse
Ne study not lay on honde euery man
And on to drawe euery wyght began
And shortly to telle as it was
Were it by auenture fortune or caas
The soth is thus the cut fell on the knyght
Of whyche full blythe ⁊and glad is euery wyght
And tell he must as it was reson
By forwarde and by composycion
As ye haue herde what nedyth wordes moo
And whan this good man sawe that it was soo
As he that was wyse and obedyent
To kepe his forwarde by his free assent
He sayd sythnes I shall begynne the game
What welcom be cut a goddis name
Now lete vs ryde and herken what I say
And with that worde we ryden forth our way
And he began wyth ryght a mery chere
And sayd anone his tale as ye shall here
Here begynnyth the knyghtis tale