Whan that Aprill with hise shoures soote
the droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed euery veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
What Zephirus eek with his sweete breath
Inspired hath in euery hold and heeth
The tendre croppes; and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne;
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open eye,
(So priketh hem nature in hir corages,)
Thanne longen folk to geen on pilgrimages,
And Palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne halwes kowthe in sondry londes.
And specially fram euery shires ende
Of Engelond to Cauntenbury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen what that they were seeke.
	Bifil that in that seson on a day
In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay,
Redy to wenden on my pilgrymage
To Caunterbury with ful deuout corage,
At nyght were come in to that hostelrye
Wel nyne and twenty in a compaignye
Of sondry folk, by auenture yfalle
In felaweshipe, and pilgrimes were they alle
That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde.
The chambres and the stables weren wyde
And wel we weren esed atte beste.
And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste,
So hadde I spoken with hem euerichon
That I was of hir felaweshipe anon,
And made forward erly for to ryse,
To take oure wey ther as I yow deuyse.
	But nathelees, whil I haue tyme and space,
Er that I ferther in this tale pace,
Me thynketh it acordaunt to resoun
To telle yow al the condicioun
Of ech of hem, so as it semed me,
An whiche they were, and of what degree,
An eek in what array that they were Inne;
And at a knyght than wol I first bigynne.
	A knyght ther was, and that a worthy man,
That fro the tyme that he first bigan
To riden out, he loued chiualrie,
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisie,
fful worthy was he in his lordes werre,
And therto hadde he riden, no man ferre,
As wel in cristendom as in Hethenesse,
And euere honoured for his worthynesse.
At Alisaundre he was, what it was wonne.
fful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bigonne
Abouen all nacions in Pruce.
In Lettow hadde he reysed and in Ruce,
No cristen man so ofte of his degree.
In Gernade at the seege eek hadde he be
Of Algezir, and riden in Belmarye.
At Lyeys was he and at Satalye,
What they were wonne; and in the grete See
At many a noble Armee hadde he be.
At mortal batailles hadde he been fiftene,
And foughten for oure feith at Tramyssene
In lystes thrie, and ay slayn his foo.
This ilke worthy knyght hadde been also
Somtyme with the lord of Palatye
Agayn another hethen in Turkye,
An eueremoore he hadde a souerey prys.
An though that he were worthy, he was wys,
And of his port as meeke as is a mayde;
He neuere yet no vileynye ne sayde
In al his lyf vn to no maner wight.
He was a verray parfit gentil knyght.
But for to tellen you of his array,
His hors weren goode, but he was nat gay;
Of ffustian he wered a gypon
Al bismotered with his habergeon,
ffor he was late ycome from his viage,
And wente for to doon his pilgrymage.
	With hym ther was his sone, a young Squier,
A louyere and a lusty Bacheler,
With lokkes crulle as they were leyd in presse.
Of twenty yeer of Age he was, I gesse.
Of his stature he was of eueve lengthe,
And wonderly delyuere and of greet strengthe.
And he hadde been sometyme in chyuachie
In fflaundres, in Artoys and Pycardie,
And born hym weel, as of so litel space,
In hope to stonden in his lady grace.
Embrouded was he, as it were a meede
Al ful of fresshe floures whyte and reede.
Syngynge he was of floytynge al the day.
He was as fressh as is the Monthe of May.
Short was his gowne with sleues longe and wyde.
Wel koude he sitte on hors and faire ryde.
He koude songes make and wel endite,
Iuste and eek daunce, and weel purtreye and write.
So hoote he louede that by nyghtertale
He slepte namoore than dooth a nyghtyngale.
Curteis he was, lowely and seruysable,
And card biforn his fade at the table.
	A Yeman hadde he and seruantz namo
At that tyme, for hym liste ride so.
And he was clad in cote and hood of grene.
A sheef of pecok arwes, bright and kene,
Vnder his belt he bar ful thriftily;
Wel koude he dresse his takel yemanly,
(Hise arwes drouped noght with fetheres lowe,)
And in his hand he baar a myghty bowe.
A not heed hadde he with a broun visage.
Of wodecraft wel koude he al the vsage.
Vp on his arm he baar a gay bracer,
And by his syde a swerd and a bokeler,
And on that oother syde a gay daggere,
Harneised wel and sharpe as point of spere,
A Cristophere on his brest of soluer sheene,
An hor he bar, the bawdryk was of grene.
A fforster was he, soothly, as I gesse.
	Ther was also a Nonne, a Prioresse,
That of hir smylyng was ful symple and coy.
Hire gretteste ooth was but by seint Loy,
And she was cleped madame Englentyne.
fful weel she soong the seruice dyuyne,
Entuned in hir nose ful semeely;
And frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly
After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe,
ffor frenssh of Parys was to hire vnknowe.
At mete wel ytaught was she with alle:
She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,
Ne wette hir fyngres in hir sauce depe;
Wel koude she caries a morsel and wel kepe,
That no drope ne fill vp on hire brist.
In curteisie was set ful muchel hir list:
Hir ouer lippe wyped she so clene
That in hir coppe ther was no ferthyng sene
Of grace, whan she dronken hadde hir draughte;
fful semely she was of greet desport,
And ful plesaunt and amyable of port,
And peyned hire to countrefete cheere
Of Court, and to been estatlich of manere,
And to ben holden digne of reuerence.
But for to speken of hire conscience,
She was so charitable and so pitous,
She wolde wepe if that she saught a Mous
Kaught in a trappe, if it were deed of bledde.
Of smale houndes hadde she that she fedde
With rosted flessh, or Milk and wastel breed.
But soore wepte she if any of hem were deed,
Or of men smoot it with a yerde smerte,
And al was conscience and tendre herte.
fful semyly hir wympul pynched was,
Hir nose tretys, hir eyen greye as glas,
Hir mouth ful smal and ther to softe and reed,
But sikerly she hadde a fair forheed,
It was almoost a spanne brood, I trowe,
ffor, hardily, she was nat vndergrowe.
fful fetys was hir cloke, as I was war.
Of smal coral aboute hire Arm she bar
A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene,
And ther on heng a brooch of gold ful sheene,
On which ther was first write a crowned .A.,
And after, Amor vincit omnia.
	Another Nonne with hire hadde she,
That was hir Chapeleyne, and preestes thre.
	A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrie,
An outridere that louede venerie,
A manly man to been an Abbot able.
fful many a deyntee hors hadde he in stable,
and what he rrod, men myghte his brydel heere
Gynglen in a whistlynge wynd als cleere
And eek as loude as dooth the Chapel belle,
Ther as this lord was kepere of the Celle.
The reule of seint Maure of of seint Beneit,
By cause that it was old and som del streit,
This ilke Monk leet olde thynges pace
And heeld after the newe world the space.
He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen
That seith that hunters beth nat hooly men,
Ne that a Monk whan he recchelees
Is likned til a fissh that is waterlees,
This is to seyn a Monk out of his Cloystere.
Buth thilke text heeld he nat worth an Oystre,
And I seyde his opinion was good,
What sholde he studie and make hym seluen wood
Vp on a book in Cloystre alwey to poure,
Or swynken with his hande, and laboure,
As Austyn bit? how shal the world be serued)
Lat Austyn haue his owene swynk to hym reserued!
Therfore he was a prikasour aright.
Grehoundes he hadde as swift as fowel in flight;
Of prikyng and of huntyng for the hare
Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.
I seigh his sleues ypurfiled at the hond
With grys, and that the fyneste of a lond;
And for to festne his hood vnder his chyn
He hadde, of gold ywroght, a ful curious pyn.
A loue knotte in the gretter ende ther was.
His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas,
And eek his face, as it hadde been enoynt,
He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt;
Hise eyen stepe and rollynge in his heed,
That stemed as a forneys of a leed;
His bootes souple, his hors in greet estaat.
Now certainly he was a fair prelaat.
He nas nat pale as a forpyned goost.
A fat swan loued he best of any roost.
His palfrey was as broun as is a berye.
	A ffrere ther was, a wantowne and a merye,
A lymytour, a ful solempne man,
In alle the ordres foure is noon that kan
So muchel of daliaunce and fair langage.
He hadde maad ful many a mariage
Of yonge wommen at his owne cost.
Vn to his ordere he was a noble post.
And wel biloued and famulier was he
With frankeleyns ouer al in his contree,
And with worthy wommen of the toun,
ffor he hadde power of confessioun,
As seyde hym self, moore than a Curat,
ffor of his ordre he was licenciat,
fful swetely herde he confessioun,
And plesaunt was his absolucioun.
He was an esy man to yeue penaunce,
Ther as he wiste to haue a good pitaunce.
ffor vnte a poure ordre for to yiue
Is signe that a man is wel yshryue;
ffor if he yaf, he dorste make auaunt,
He wiste that a man was repentaunt.
ffor many a man so hard is of his herte,
He many nat wepe, al thogh hym soore smerte.
Therfore in stede of wepynge and preyeres
Men moote yeue siluer to the poure freres.
His typet was ay farsed ful of knyues
And pynnes, for to yeuen yonge wyues.
And certeinly he hadde a murye note;
Wel koude he synge and pleyen on a rote.
Of yeddynges he baar outrely the pris.
His nekke whit was as the flour delys.
Ther to he strong was as a Champioun.
He knew the Tauernes wel in al the toun,
And euerich Hostiler and Tappestere
Bet than a lazar or a beggestere.
ffor vn to swich a worthy man as he
Acorded nat, as by his facultee,
To haue with sike lazars Aqueyntaunce.
It is nat honeste, it may nat auaunce,
ffor to deelen with no swich poraille,
But al with riche, and selleres of vitaille.
And ouer al ther as profit sholde arise,
Curteis he was and lowely of seruyse;
Ther nas no man nowher so vertuous.
He was the beste beggere in his hous,
ffor though a wydwe hadde noght a show,
So plesaunt was his In principio,
Yet wolde he haue a ferthyng er he wente.
His purchas was wel bettre than his rente.
And rage he koude as it were right a whelpe.
In loue dayes ther koude he muchel helpe,
ffor ther he was nat lyk a Cloystrer
With a thredbare cope, as is a poure scoler,
But he was lyk a maister or a pope.
Of double worstede was his semycope
That rounded as a belle out of the presse.
Somwhat he lipsed for his wantownesse,
To make his englissh sweete vp on his tonge.
And in his harpyng, what that he hadde songe,
Hise eyen twynkled in his heed aryght
As doon the sterres in the frosty nyght.
This worthy lymytour was cleped Huberd.
	A Marchant was ther with a forked berd,
In Motlee and hye on horse he sat,
Vp on his heed a fflaundryssh Beuere hat,
His bootes clapsed faire and fetisly.
Hise resons he spak ful solempnely,
Sownynge alwey thencrees of his wynnyng.
He wolde the see were kept for any thing
Bitwixe Middleburgh and Orewelle.
Wel koude he in eschaunge sheeldes selle.
This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette:
Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette,
So estatly was he of his gouernaunce
With his bargaynes and with his cheuyssaunce.
ffor sother he was a worthy man with alle,
But sooth to seyn I noot how men hym calle.
	A Clerk ther was of Oxenford also,
That vn to logyk hade longe ygo,
And leene was his hors as is a rake,
And he nas nat right fat, I vndertake,
But looked holwe, and ther to sobrely.
fful thredbare was his ouereste courtepy,
ffor he hadde geten hym yet no benefice,
Ne was so worldly for to haue office.
ffor hym was leuere haue at his beddes heed
Twenty bookes, clad in blak or reed,
Of Aristotle and his Philosophie,
Than roves riche or fithele or gay sautrie.
But al be that he was a Philosophre,
Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre:
But al that he myghte of his freende hente,
On bookes and on lernynge he is spente,
And bisily gan for the soules preye
Of hem that yaf hym wher with to scoleye.
Of studie took he moost cure and moost heede;
Noght o word spak he moore than was neede,
And that was seyd in forme and reuerence,
And short and quyk and ful of hy sentence.
Sownynge in moral vertu was his speche,
And gladly wolde he lerne and gladly teche.
	A Sergeant of the lawe, war and wys,
That often hadde been at the Parvys,
Ther was also, ful riche of excellence.
Discreet he was and of greet reuerence:
He semed swich, hise wordes weren so wise.
Iustice he was ful often in Assise
By patente and by pleyn commissioun.
ffor his science and for his heigh renoun
Of feed and robes hadde he many oon;
So greet a purchasour was nowher noon.
Al was fee symple to hym in effect,
His purchasyng myghte nat been infect.
Nowher so bisy a man as he ther nas,
And yet he semed bisier than he was,
In termes hadde he caas and doomes alle
That from the tyme of kyng william were yfalle.
Therto he koude endite and make a thyng:
Ther koude no wight pynchen at his writyng;
And euery statut koude he pleyn by rote.
He rood but hoomly in a medlee cote,
Girt with a ceint of silk with barres smale.
Of his array telle I no lenger tale.
	A ffrankeleyn was in his compaignye:
Whit was his heed as is a dayesye.
OF his complexioun he was sangwyn.
Wel loued he by the morwe a sope in wyn.
To lyuen in delit was euere his wone,
ffor he was Epicurus owene sone,
That heeld opinioun that pleyn delit
Was verray felicitee parfit.
An housholdere, and that a greet, was he,
Seint Iulian was he in his contree.
His breed, his Ale, was alweys after oon,
A bettre envyned man was neuere noon;
With oute bake mete was neuere his hous,
Of fissh and flessh, and that so plenteuous,
It snewed in his hous of mete and drynke,
Of all deyntees that men koude thynke.
After the sondry sesons of the yeer
So chaunged he his mete and his soper
fful many a fat partrich hadde he in Muwe,
And many a Breem and many a luce in Stuwe.
Wo was his Cook but if his sauce were
Poynaunt and sharpe, and redy al his geere.
His table dormant in his halle alway
Stood redy couered al the longe day.
At sessiouns ther was he lord and isre;
fful ofte tyme he was knyght of the shire.
An Anlaas and a gipser al of silk
Heeng at his girdel, whit as morne Milk.
A shirreue hadde he been and Countour;
Was nowher swich a worthy Vauasour.
	An haberdasshere and a Carpenter,
A Webbe, a Dyere, and a Papycer,
And they were clother alle in o lyueree
Of a solempne and a greet fraternitee.
fful fressh and newe hir geere apiked was:
Hir knyues were chaped noght with bras,
But al with siluer; wroght ful clene and weel
Hire girdles and hir pouches euerydeel.
Wel semed ech of hem a fair burgeys
To sitten in a yeldehalle on a deys:
Euerich, for the wisdom that he kan,
Was shaply for to been an Alderman;
ffor catel hadde they ynogh and rente,
And eek hir wyues wolde it wel assente.
And elles certeyn were they to blame!
It is ful fair to been ycleped 'ma Dame'
And goon to vigilies al bifore,
And haue a Mantel roialliche ybore.
	A Cook they hadde with hem for the nones
To boille the chiknes with the Marybones,
And poudre Marchant tart and galyngale.
Wel koude he knowe a draughte of Londoun Ale.
He koude rooste and sethe and boille and frye,
Maken Mortreux and wel bake a pye.
But greet hardm was it, as it thought me,
That on his shyne a mormal hadde he;
ffor blankmanger, that made he with the beste.
	A Shipman was ther, wonynge fer by weste;
ffor aught I woot he was of Dertemouthe,
He rood vp on a Rouncy, as he kouthe,
In a gowne of faldyng to the knee.
A daggere hangynge on a laas hadde he
Aboute his nekke, vnder his Arm adoun.
The hoote somer hadde maad his hewe al broun,
And certeinly he was a good felawe.
fful many a draughte of wyn had he drawe
ffro Burdeuward, whil that the Chapman sleepe.
Of nyce conscience took he no keepe.
If that he faught and hadde the hyer hond,
By water he sente hem hoom to euery lond,,
But of his craft, to rekene wel his tydes,
His stremes and his daungers hym bisides,
His herberwe and his moone, his lodemenage,
Ther nas noon swich from Hull to Cartage.
hardy he was and wys to vndertake;
With many a tempest hadde his berd been shake.
He knew all the hauenes as they were
ffro Gootlond to the Cape of ffynystere,
And euery cryke in Britaigne and in Spayne,
His Barge ycleped was the Maudelayne.
	With vs ther was a Doctour of Phisik,
In al this world ne was ther noon hym lik
To speke of phisik and os Surgerye,
ffor he was grounded in Astronomye,
He kepte his pacient a ful greet deel
In houres by his magyk natureel;
Wel koude he fortunen the Ascendent
Of his ymages for his pacient;
He knew the cause of euerich maladye,
Were it of hoot or coold or moyste or drye,
And where they engendred, and of what humour.
He was a verray parfit praktisour,
The cause yknowe, and of his harm the roote,
Anon he yaf the sike man his boote.
fful redy hadde he his Apothecaries
To sende hym drogges and his letuaries.
ffor ech of hem made oother for to wynne,
Hir frendshipe nas nat newe to bigynne,
Wel knew he the olde Esculapius,
And Deyscorides and eek Rufus,
Olde ypocras, Haly and Galyen,
Serapion, Razis and Auycen,
Auerrois, Damascien and Constantyn,
Bernard and Gatesden and Gilbertyn,
Of his diete mesurable was he,
ffor it was of no superfluitee,
But of greet norissyng and digestible,
His studie was but litel on the Bible.
In sanwyn and in pers he clad was al,
Lyned with Taffate and with Sendal,
And yet he was but esy of dispence,
He kepte that he wan in pestlience;
ffor gold in Phisik is a cordial,
Therfore he louede gold in special.
	A good wif was ther of biside Bathe,
But she was som del deef and that was scathe.
Of cloothe makyng she hadd swich an haunt,
She passed hem of ypres and of Gaunt,
In al the parisshe wif ne was ther noon
That to the offrynge bifore hire sholde goon.
And if ther dide, certeyn, so wrooth was she
That she was out of all charitte.
Hir couerchiefs ful fyne were of ground;
I dorste swere they weyeden ten pound
That on a sonday weren vpon hir heed.
Hir hosen weren of fyn scarlet reed,
fful streite yteyd, and shoes ful moyste and newe.
Boold was hir face, and fair, and reed of hewe.
She was a worthy womman al hir lyue;
Housbondes at chirche dore she hadde fyue,
Withouten oother compaignye in youthe -
But ther of nedeth nat to speke as nowthe.
And thries hadde she been at Ierusalem,
She hadde passed many a straunge strem;
At Rome she hadde been and at Bolooigne,
In Galice at Seint Iame, and at Coloigne;
She koude muchel of wandrynge by the weye.
Gat tothed was she, soothly for to seye.
Vp on an Amblere esily she sat,
Ywympled wel, and on hir heed an hat
As brood as is a bokeler or a targe;
A foot mantel aboute his hipes large,
And on hir feet a paire of spores sharpe.
In felaweshipe wel koude she laughe and carpe.
Of remedies of loue she knew per chaunce,
For she koude of that Art the olde daunce.
	A good man was ther of Religioun,
And was a poure persoun of a toun;
But riche he was of hooly thoght and werk,
He was also a lerned man, a clerk,
That cristes gospel trewely wolde preche;
Hise parisshens deuoutly wolde he teche.
Benygne he was, and wonder diligent,
And in Aduersitee ful pacient,
And swich he was preued ofte sithes,
fful looth were hym to cursen for his tithes,
But rather wolde he yeuen, out of doute,
Vn to his poure parisshens aboute
Of his offryng and eek of his substaunce;
He koude in litel thyng haue suffisaunce.
Wyd was his parisshe, and houses fer a sonder,
But he ne lefte nat, for reyn ne thonder,
In siknesse nor in meschief to visite
The ferreste in parisshe, muche and lite,
Vp on his feet, and in his hand a staf,
This noble ensample to his sheepe he yaf,
That firste he wroghte, and afterward that he taughte.
Out of the gospel he tho wordes caughte,
And this figure he added eek therto,
That if gold ruste, what shal Iren do?
ffor if a preest be foul, on whom we truste,
No wonder is a lewed man to ruste!
And shame it is, if a preest take keepe,
A shiten shepherde and a clene sheepe.
Wel oghte a preest ensample for to yeue
By his clennesse how that his sheepe sholde lyue.
He sette nat his benefice to hyre,
And leet his sheepe encombred in the Myre,
And ran to Londoun vn to seint Poules,
To seken hym a chauntries for soules,
Or with a bretherhed to been withholde;
But dwelleth at hoom and kepeth wel his folde,
So that the wolf ne made it nat myscarie.
He was a shephere and noght a Mercenarie.
And though he hooly were and vertuous,
He was nat to synful men despitous,
Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne,
But in his techyng discreet and benygne.
To drawen folk to heuene by fairness,
By good ensample, this was his bisynesse.
But it were any persone obstinat,
What so he were, of heigh or lough estat,
Hym wolde he snybben sharply for the nonys.
A bettre preest I trowe that nowher noon ys.
He waiteth after no pompe and reuerence,
Ne maked hym a spiced conscience.
But cristes loore and his Apostles twelue
He taughte, but first he folwed it hym selue.
	With hym ther was a Plowman was his brother,
That hadde ylad of dong many a fother,
A trewe swynkere and a good was he,
Lyuynge in pees and parfit charitee.
God loued he best with al his hoole herte
At alle tymes, thogh he gamed or smerte,
And thanne his neighbore right as hym selue,
He wolde thresshe and therto dyke and delue,
ffor cristes sake, for euery poure wight
Withouten hire, if it lay in his myght,
Hise tithes payde he ful faire and wel,
Bothe of his propre synk and his catel.
In a Tabard he vpon a Mere.
	Ther was also a Reue and a Millere,
A Somnour and a Pardoner also,
A Maunciple and my self - ther were namo.
The Millere was a stout carl for the nones,
fful byg he was of brawn and eek of bones;
That prooued wel for ouer al ther he cam,
At wrastlynge he wolde haue alwey the Ram.
He was short sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre;
Ther was no dore that he ne wolde heue of harre,
Or breke it at a rennyng with his heed.
His berd was as any sowe or fox was reed,
And ther to brood as though it were a spade.
Vp on the cope right of his nose he hade
A werte, and ther on stood a toft of herys,
Reed as the brustles of a sowes erys,
Hise nosethirles blake were and wyde.
A swerd and a bokeler bar he by his syde.
His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys.
He was a langlere and a goliardeys,
And that was moost of synne and horlotries.
Wel koude he stelen corn and tollen thries -
And yet he hadde a thombe of gold, pardee.
A whit cote and a blew hood wered he.
A baggepipe wel koude he blowe and sowne,
And ther with al he broghte vs out of towne.
	A gentil Maunciple was ther of a temple,
Of which Achatours myghte take exemple
ffor to be wise in byynge of vitaille:
ffor wheither that he payde or took by taille,
Algate he wayted so in his Achaat
That he was ay biforn in good staat.
Now is nat that of god a ful fair grace,
That swich a lewed mannes wit shal pace
The wisdom of an heepe of lerned men?
Of maistres hadde he mo that thries ten
That weren of lawe expert and curious;
Of whiche ther weren a duszeyne in that hous
Worthy to been stywardes of rente and lond
Of any lord that is in Engelond,
To maken hym lyue by his propre good
In honour, dettelees, but if he were wood,
Or lyue as scarsly as hym list desire
And able for to helpen al a shire
In any caas that myghte falle or happe.
And yet this manciple sette hir aller cappe.
	The Reue was a sclendre colerik man;
His berd was shaue as ny as euer he kan;
His heer was by his erys ful round yshorn;
His tope was dokked lyk a preest biforn;
fful longe were his legges and ful lene,
ylyk a staf, ther was no calf ysene.
Wel koude he kepe a gerner and a bynne,
Ther was noon Auditour koude of him wynne.
Wel wiste he by the droghte and by the reyn
The yeldynge of his seed and of his greyn,
His lordes sheepe, his neet, his dayerye,
His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrye
Was hoolly in this Reues gouernyng,
And by his couenant yaf the rekenyng
Syn that his lord was twenty yeer of age.
Ther koude no man brynge hym in Arrerage:
Ther nas baillif, ne hierde, nor oother hyne,
That he new knew his sleighte and his couyne;
They were adrad of hym as of the deeth.
His wonyng was ful faire vp on an heeth;
With grene trees shadwed was his place.
He koude bettre than his lord purchace;
fful riche he was astored pryuely.
His lord wel koude he plesen subtilly,
To yeue and lene hym of his owene good,
And haue a thank, and yet a gowne and hood.
In youthe he hadde lerned a good myster:
He was a wel good wrighte, a Carpenter.
This Reue sat vp on a ful good stot,
That was al pomely grey and highte Scot.
A long surcote of pers vp on he hade,
And by his syde he baar a rusty blade.
Of Northfolk was this Reue of which I telle,
Biside a toun men clepen Baldeswelle.
Tukked he was as is a frere aboute,
And euere he rood the hyndreste of oure route.
	A Somonour was ther with vs in that place,
That hadde a fyr reed Cherubynnes face,
ffor saucefleem he was, with eyen narwe.
As hoot he was, and lecherous, as a sparwe,
With scaled browes blake and piled berd.
Of his visage children wee aferd.
Ther nas quyk siluer, lytarge, ne brymstoon,
Boras, Ceruce, no oille of Tartre noon,
Ne oynement that wolde clense and byte,
That hym myghte helpen of the whelkes white,
Nor of the knobbes sittynge on his chekes.
Wel loued he garleek, oynons, and eek lekes,
And for to drynken strong wyn,reed as blood.
Thanne wolde he speke and crie as he were wood.
And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn,
Thanne wlde he speke no word but latyn,
A fewe termes hadde he, two or thre,
That he had lerned out of som decree:
No wonder is, he herde it al the day.
And eek ye knowen wel how that a lay
Kan clepen "watte", as wel as an the pope.
But who so koude in oother thyng hym grope,
Thanne hadde he spent al his Philosophie.
Ay "questio yuid iurus" wolde he crie.
He was a gentil harlot and a kynde,
A bettre felawe sholde men noght fynde.
He wolde suffre for a quart of wyn
A good felawe to haue his concubyn
A tweelf monthe, and excuse hym atte fulle.
full pruely a fynch eek koude pulle.
And if he foond owher a good felawe,
He wolde techen hym to haue noon Awe,
In swich caas, of the Ercedekenes curs,
But if a mannes soule were in his purs:
ffor in his purs he sholde ypunyssehd be.
"Purs is the Ercedekenes helle", seyde he.
But wel I woot, he lyed right in dede;
Of cyrsyng oghte ech gilty man drede,
ffor curs wol slee right as assoillyng sauith,
And also war hym of a Significauit.
In daunger hadde he at his owene gise
The yonge girles of the diocise,
And knew hir conseil and was al hir reed.
A gerland hadde he set vp on his heed
As greet as it were for an Ale stake.
A bokeleer hadde he maad hym of a Cake.
	With hym ther was a gentil Pardoner
Of Rounciuale, his freend and his compeer,
That streight was comen fro the court of Rome.
fful loude he soong "com hider, loue, to me!"
This Somonour bar to hym a stif burdoun;
Was neuere trompe of half so greet a soun.
This Pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex,
Bu smothe it heeng as dooth a strike of flex;
By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde,
And ther with he hise shuldres ouerspradde,
But thynne it lay, by colpons, oon and oon,
But hood, for Iolitee, wered he noon,
For it was trussed vp in his walet,
Hym thoughte he rood al of the new Iet.
Discheuelee, sue his cappe, he rood al bare,
Swiche glarynge eyen hadde he as an hare.
A vernycle hadde he sowed vp on his cappe.
His walet biforn hym in his lappe,
Bret ful of pardoun comen from Rome al hoot.
A voys he hadde as smal as hath a goot;
No berd hadde he, ne neuere sholde haue,
As smothe it was as it were late shaue;
I trowe he were a geldyng or a mare.
But of his craft, fro Berwyk in to Ware,
Ne was ther swich another Pardoner.
ffor in his male he hadde a pilwe beer,
Which that he seyde was oure lady veyl.
He seyde he hadde whan that he wente
Vp on the see, til Ihesu crist hym hente.
He hadde a croys of latoun ful of stones,
And in a glas he hadde pigges bones,
And with thise relikes, whan that he fond
A poure person dwellynge vp on lond,
Vp on a day he gat hym moore moneye
Than that the person gat in Monthes tweye.
And thus, with feyned flaterye and Iapes,
He made the person and the peple his Apes,
But trewely to tellen atte laste,
He was in chirche a noble exxlesiaste:
Wel koude he rede a lessoun or a stories,
But alderbest he song an Offertorie,
ffor wel he wiste, whan that song was songe,
He moste preche and wel affile his tonge
To wynne siluer as he ful wel koude;
Therfore he song the murierly and loude.
	Now haue I toold yow shortly in a clause
The staat, tharray, the nombre and eek the cause
Whythat assembled was this compaignye
In Southwerk, at this gentil hostelrye,
That highte the Tabard, faste by the Belle.
But now is tyme to yow for to telle
How that we baren vs that ilke nyght
Whan we were in that hostelrie alyght,
And after wol I telle of oure viage,
And al the remenaunt of oure pilgrimage.
But first I pray yow, of youre curteisye,
That ye narette it nat my vileynye,
Thogh that I pleynly speke in this mateere
To telle yow hir wordes and hir cheere,
Ne thogh I speke hir wordes properly,
ffor this ye knowen al so wel as I,
Who so shal telle a tale after a man,
He moot reherce, a ny as euere he kan,
Euerich a word, if it be in his charge,
Al speke he neuer so rudeliche or large,
Or ellis he moot telle his tale vntrewe,
Or feyne thyng, or fynde wordes newe.
He may nat spare, al thogh he were his brother;
He moot as wel seye o word as another.
Crist spak hym self ful brode in hooly writ,
And wel ye woot no vileynye is it.
Eek Plato seith, who so kan hym rede,
The wordes moote be cosyn to the dede.
Also I prey yow to foryeue it me
Al haue I nat set folk in hir defree,
Heere in this tale, as that they sholdes stonde,
My wit is short, ye may wel vnderstonde,
Greet chiere made oure hoost vs euerichon,
And to the soper sette he vs anon;
And serued ux with vitaille at the beste;
Strong was the wyn, and wel to drynke vs leste,
A oure hoost was with alle
ffor to been a Marchal in an halle,
A large man he was with eyen stepe,
A fairer Burgeys was ther noon in Chepen;
Boold of his speche, and wys and wel ytaught,
And of manhod hym lakked right naught,
Eek therto he right myrie man;
And after soper pleyen he bigan,
And spak of myrthe, amonges othere thynges,
Whan that we hadde maad oure rekenynges,
And seyde thus: "now, lordynges, trewely,
Ye been to me right welcome hertely!
ffor by my trouthe if that I shal nate lye,
I saugh nat this yeer so myrie a compaignye
Atones in this herberwe as is now.
ffayn wolde I doon yow myrthe, wiste I how.
And of a myrthe I am right now bythoght
To doon yow ese, and it shal coste noght,
Ye goon to Caunterbury - god yow speede! -
The blisful martir quite yow youre meede!
And wel I woot, as ye goon by the weye,
Ye shapen yow to talen and to pleye;
ffor trewely, confort ne myrthe is noon
To ride by the weye doumb as the stoon.
And therfore wol I maken yow disport,
As I seyde erst, and doon yow som confort.
And if yow liketh alle by oon assent
ffor to stonden at my Iuggement,
And for to werken as I shal yow seye,
To morwe whan ye riden by the weye,
Now, by my fader soule, that is deed,
But if ye be myrie I wol yeue yow myn heed.
Hoold vp youre hond withouten moore speche!"
Oure conseil was nat longe for to seche;
Vs thoughte it was noght worth to make it wys,
And graunted hym withouten moore auys,
And bad hym seye his woirdit as hym leste,
"Lordynges", quod he, "now herkneth for the beste,
But taak it nought, I prey yow, in desdeyn.
This is the poynt to speken short and pleyn,
That ech of yow, to shorte with oure weye,
In this viage shal telle tales tweye
To Caunterburyward, I mene it so,
And homward he shal tellen other two
Of auenteres that whilom han bifalle.
And whic of yow that bereth hym best of alle,
That is to seyn, that telleth in this caas
Tales of best sentence and moost solaas,
Shal haue a soper at oure aller cost,
Heere in this place sittynge by this post,
Whan that we come agayn fro Caunterbury.
And for to make yow the moore muyr,
I wol my self goodly with yow ryde,
Right at myn owene cost, and be youre gyde.
And who so wole my Iuggement withseye,
Shal paye al that we spenden by the weye.
And if ye vouche sauf that it be so,
Tel me anon, withouten wordes mo,
And I wol erly shape me therfore."
This thyng was graunted and oure othes swore
With ful glad herte and preyden hym also
That he wolde vouche sauf for to do so,
And that he wolde been oure gouernour,
And of oure tales Iuge and Reportour,
And sette a soper at a certeyn pris;
And we wol reueld been at his deuys
In heigh and lough, and thus, by oon assent,
We been acorded to his Iuggement.
And ther vp on the wyn was fet anon.
We dronken and to reste wente echon
With outen any lenger taryynge.
Amorwe, whan that day gan for to sprynge,
Vp roos oure hoost and was oure aller cok,
And gadrede vs togidre alle in a flok,
And forth we riden, a litel moore than paas,
Vn to the wateryng of Seint Thomas,
And there oure hoost bigan his hors areste,
And seyde, "lordynges, herkneth, if yow leste!
Ye woot yore foreward and I it yow recorde,
If euensong and morwesong accorde,
Lat se now who shal telle the firste tale.
As euere mote I drynke wyn or Ale:
Who so be rebel to my Iuggement
Shal paye for al that by the wey is spent.
Now draweth cut, er that we ferre twynne;
He which that hath the shorteste shal bigynne,
Sire knyght", quod he, "my mayster and my lord,
Now draweth cut, for that is myn accord,
Cometh neer!", quod he, "my lady Prioresse,
And ye, sire clerk, lat be youre shamefastnesse!
Ne studieth noght! ley hond to, euery man!"
Anon to drawen euery wight bigan,
And shortly, for to tellen as it was,
Were it by auerture, or sort, or cas,
The sothe is this; the cut fil to the knyght,
Of which ful blithe and glad was euery wyght.
And telle he moste his tale, as was resoun,
By foreward and by composicioun,
As ye han herd, what nedeth wordes mo?
An whan this goode man saugh that it was so,
As he that wys was obedient
To kepe his foreward by his free assent,
He seyde, "syn I shal bigynne the game,
What, welcome be the cut, a goddes name!
Now lat vs ryde and herkeneth what I seye!"
And with that word we ryden forth oure weye;
And he bigan with right a myrie cheere
His talen anon, and seyde in this manere: