Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote,
When April with his showers sweet with fruit
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
The drought of March has pierced unto the root
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
And bathed each vein with liquor that has power
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
To generate therein and sire the flower;
Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
When Zephyr also has, with his sweet breath,
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
Quickened again, in every holt and heath,
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
The tender shoots and buds, and the young sun
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
Into the Ram one half his course has run,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
And many little birds make melody
That slepen al the nyght with open eye-
That sleep through all the night with open eye
So priketh hem Nature in hir corages-
(So Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage)-
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
Then do folk long to go on pilgrimage,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes
And palmers to go seeking out strange strands,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
To distant shrines well known in sundry lands.
And specially, from every shires ende
And specially from every shire's end
Of Engelond, to Caunturbury they wende,
Of England they to Canterbury wend,
The hooly blisful martir for the seke
The holy blessed martyr there to seek
That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seeke.
Who helped them when they lay so ill and weal
Bifil that in that seson, on a day,
Befell that, in that season, on a day
In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay,
In Southwark, at the Tabard, as I lay
Redy to wenden on my pilgrymage
Ready to start upon my pilgrimage
To Caunterbury, with ful devout corage,
To Canterbury, full of devout homage,
At nyght were come into that hostelrye
There came at nightfall to that hostelry
Wel nyne and twenty in a compaignye
Some nine and twenty in a company
Of sondry folk, by aventure yfalle
Of sundry persons who had chanced to fall
In felaweshipe, and pilgrimes were they alle,
In fellowship, and pilgrims were they all
That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde.
That toward Canterbury town would ride.
The chambres and the stables weren wyde,
The rooms and stables spacious were and wide,
And wel we weren esed atte beste;
And well we there were eased, and of the best.
And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste,
And briefly, when the sun had gone to rest,
So hadde I spoken with hem everychon
So had I spoken with them, every one,
That I was of hir felaweshipe anon,
That I was of their fellowship anon,
And made forward erly for to ryse
And made agreement that we'd early rise
To take our wey, ther as I yow devyse.
To take the road, as you I will apprise.
But nathelees, whil I have tyme and space,
But none the less, whilst I have time and space,
Er that I ferther in this tale pace,
Before yet farther in this tale I pace,
Me thynketh it acordaunt to resoun
It seems to me accordant with reason
To telle yow al the condicioun
To inform you of the state of every one
Of ech of hem, so as it semed me,
Of all of these, as it appeared to me,
And whiche they weren, and of what degree,
And who they were, and what was their degree,
And eek in what array that they were inne;
And even how arrayed there at the inn;
And at a knyght than wol I first bigynne.
And with a knight thus will I first begin.
A knyght ther was, and that a worthy man,
A knight there was, and he a worthy man,
That fro the tyme that he first bigan
Who, from the moment that he first began
To riden out, he loved chivalrie,
To ride about the world, loved chivalry,
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisie.
Truth, honour, freedom and all courtesy.
Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre,
Full worthy was he in his liege-lord's war,
And therto hadde he riden, no man ferre,
And therein had he ridden (none more far)
As wel in Cristendom as in Hethenesse,
As well in Christendom as heathenesse,
And evere honoured for his worthynesse.
And honoured everywhere for worthiness.
At Alisaundre he was, whan it was wonne;
At Alexandria, he, when it was won;
Ful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bigonne
Full oft the table's roster he'd begun
Aboven alle nacions in Pruce;
Above all nations' knights in Prussia.
In Lettow hadde he reysed, and in Ruce,
In Latvia raided he, and Russia,
No cristen man so ofte of his degree.
No christened man so oft of his degree.
In Gernade at the seege eek hadde he be
In far Granada at the siege was he
Of Algezir, and riden in Belmarye;
Of Algeciras, and in Belmarie.
At Lyeys was he, and at Satalye,
At Ayas was he and at Satalye
Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete See
When they were won; and on the Middle Sea
At many a noble arive hadde he be.
At many a noble meeting chanced to be.
At mortal batailles hadde he been fiftene,
Of mortal battles he had fought fifteen,
And foughten for oure feith at Tramyssene
And he'd fought for our faith at Tramissene
In lystes thries, and ay slayn his foo.
Three times in lists, and each time slain his foe.
This ilke worthy knyght hadde been also
This self-same worthy knight had been also
Somtyme with the lord of Palatye
At one time with the lord of Palatye
Agayn another hethen in Turkye,
Against another heathen in Turkey:
And everemoore he hadde a sovereyn prys.
And always won he sovereign fame for prize.
And though that he were worthy, he was wys,
Though so illustrious, he was very wise
And of his port as meeke as is a mayde;
And bore himself as meekly as a maid.
He nevere yet no vileynye ne sayde
He never yet had any vileness said,
In al his lyf unto no maner wight;
In all his life, to whatsoever wight.
He was a verray parfit gentil knyght.
He was a truly perfect, gentle knight.
But for to tellen yow of his array,
But now, to tell you all of his array,
His hors weren goode, but he was nat gay.
His steeds were good, but yet he was not gay.
Of fustian he wered a gypoun,
Of simple fustian wore he a jupon
Al bismotered with his habergeoun;
Sadly discoloured by his habergeon;
For he was late ycome from his viage,
For he had lately come from his voyage
And wente for to doon his pilgrymage.
And now was going on this pilgrimage.
With hym ther was his sone, a yong Squier,
With him there was his son, a youthful squire,
A lovyere and a lusty bacheler,
A lover and a lusty bachelor,
With lokkes crulle, as they were leyd in presse.
With locks well curled, as if they'd laid in press.
Of twenty yeer of age he was, I gesse.
Some twenty years of age he was, I guess.
Of his stature he was of evene lengthe,
In stature he was of an average length,
And wonderly delyvere, and of greet strengthe.
Wondrously active, aye, and great of strength.
And he hadde been somtyme in chyvachie
He'd ridden sometime with the cavalry
In Flaundres, in Artoys, and Pycardie,
In Flanders, in Artois, and Picardy,
And born hym weel, as of so litel space,
And borne him well within that little space
In hope to stonden in his lady grace.
In hope to win thereby his lady's grace.
Embrouded was he, as it were a meede,
Prinked out he was, as if he were a mead,
Al ful of fresshe floures whyte and reede;
All full of fresh-cut flowers white and red.
Syngynge he was, or floytynge, al the day,
Singing he was, or fluting, all the day;
He was as fressh as is the monthe of May.
He was as fresh as is the month of May.
Short was his gowne, with sleves longe and wyde.
Short was his gown, with sleeves both long and wide.
Wel koude he sitte on hors, and faire ryde,
Well could be sit on horse, and fairly ride.
He koude songes make, and wel endite,
He could make songs and words thereto indite,
Juste, and eek daunce, and weel purtreye and write.
Joust, and dance too, as well as sketch and write.
So hoote he lovede, that by nyghtertale
So hot he loved that, while night told her tale,
He slepte namoore than dooth a nyghtyngale.
He slept no more than does a nightingale.
Curteis he was, lowely, and servysable,
Courteous he, and humble, willing and able,
And carf biforn his fader at the table.
And carved before his father at the table.
A Yeman hadde he, and servantz namo
A yeoman had he, nor more servants, no,
At that tyme, for hym liste ride soo;
At that time, for he chose to travel so;
And he was clad in cote and hood of grene,
And he was clad in coat and hood of green.
A sheef of pecok arwes bright and kene
A sheaf of peacock arrows bright and keen
Under his belt he bar ful thriftily-
Under his belt he bore right carefully
Wel koude he dresse his takel yemanly,
(Well could he keep his tackle yeomanly:
Hise arwes drouped noght with fetheres lowe-
His arrows had no draggled feathers low),
And in his hand he baar a myghty bowe.
And in his hand he bore a mighty bow.
A not -heed hadde he, with a broun visage,
A cropped head had he and a sun-browned face.
Of woodecraft wel koude he al the usage.
Of woodcraft knew he all the useful ways.
Upon his arm he baar a gay bracer,
Upon his arm he bore a bracer gay,
And by his syde a swerd and a bokeler,
And at one side a sword and buckler, yea,
And on that oother syde a gay daggere,
And at the other side a dagger bright,
Harneised wel, and sharpe as point of spere.
Well sheathed and sharp as spear point in the light;
A Cristophere on his brest of silver sheene,
On breast a Christopher of silver sheen.
An horn he bar, the bawdryk was of grene.
He bore a horn in baldric all of green;
A Forster was he, soothly, as I gesse.
A forester he truly was, I guess.
Ther was also a Nonne, a Prioresse,
There was also a nun, a prioress,
That of hir smylyng was ful symple and coy.
Who, in her smiling, modest was and coy;
Hir gretteste ooth was but by Seinte Loy,
Her greatest oath was but By Saint Eloy!
And she was cleped Madame Eglentyne.
And she was known as Madam Eglantine.
Ful weel she soong the service dyvyne,
Full well she sang the services divine,
Entuned in hir nose ful semely;
Intoning through her nose, becomingly;
And Frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly
And fair she spoke her French, and fluently,
After the scole of Stratford-atte-Bowe,
After the school of Stratford-at-the-Bow,
For Frenssh of Parys was to hir unknowe.
For French of Paris was not hers to know.
At mete wel ytaught was she withalle;
At table she had been well taught withal,
She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,
And never from her lips let morsels fall,
Ne wette hir fyngres in hir sauce depe.
Nor dipped her fingers deep in sauce, but ate
Wel koude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe
With so much care the food upon her plate
That no drope ne fille upon hir brist.
That never driblet fell upon her breast.
In curteisie was set ful muche hir list;
In courtesy she had delight and zest.
Hire over-lippe wyped she so clene,
Her upper lip was always wiped so clean
That in hir coppe ther was no ferthyng sene
That in her cup was no iota seen
Of grece, whan she dronken hadde hir draughte.
Of grease, when she had drunk her draught of wine.
Ful semely after hir mete she raughte;
Becomingly she reached for meat to dine.
And sikerly, she was of greet desport,
And certainly delighting in good sport,
And ful plesaunt, and amyable of port,
She was right pleasant, amiable- in short.
And peyned hir to countrefete cheere
She was at pains to counterfeit the look
Of court, and been estatlich of manere,
Of courtliness, and stately manners took,
And to ben holden digne of reverence.
And would be held worthy of reverence.
But for to speken of hir conscience,
But, to say something of her moral sense,
She was so charitable and so pitous,
She was so charitable and piteous
She wolde wepe, if that she saugh a mous
That she would weep if she but saw a mouse
Kaught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.
Caught in a trap, though it were dead or bled.
Of smale houndes hadde she, that she fedde
She had some little dogs, too, that she fed
With rosted flessh, or milk and wastel-breed.
On roasted flesh, or milk and fine white bread.
But soore weep she if oon of hem were deed,
But sore she'd weep if one of them were dead,
Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte;
Or if men smote it with a rod to smart:
And al was conscience, and tendre herte.
For pity ruled her, and her tender heart.
Ful semyly hir wympul pynched was,
Right decorous her pleated wimple was;
Hire nose tretys, hir eyen greye as glas,
Her nose was fine; her eyes were blue as glass;
Hir mouth ful smal, and therto softe and reed;
Her mouth was small and therewith soft and red;
But sikerly, she hadde a fair forheed,
But certainly she had a fair forehead;
It was almoost a spanne brood, I trowe,
It was almost a full span broad, I own,
For, hardily, she was nat undergrowe.
For, truth to tell, she was not undergrown.
Ful fetys was hir cloke, as I was war;
Neat was her cloak, as I was well aware.
Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar
Of coral small about her arm she'd bear
A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene,
A string of beads and gauded all with green;
An theron heng a brooch of gold ful sheene,
And therefrom hung a brooch of golden sheen
On which ther was first write a crowned 'A,'
Whereon there was first written a crowned A,
And after,'Amor vincit omnia.'
And under, Amor vincit omnia.
Another Nonne with hir hadde she,
Another little nun with her had she,
That was hire Chapeleyne, and preestes thre.
Who was her chaplain; and of priests she'd three.
A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrie,
A monk there was, one made for mastery,
An outridere, that lovede venerie,
An outrider, who loved his venery;
A manly man, to been an abbot able.
A manly man, to be an abbot able.
Ful many a deyntee hors hadde he in stable;
Full many a blooded horse had he in stable:
And whan he rood, men myghte his brydel heere
And when he rode men might his bridle hear
Gynglen in a whistlynge wynd als cleere,
A-jingling in the whistling wind as clear,
And eek as loude, as dooth the chapel belle,
Aye, and as loud as does the chapel bell
Ther as this lord was keper of the celle.
Where this brave monk was of the cell.
The reule of Seint Maure, or of Seint Beneit,
The rule of Maurus or Saint Benedict,
Bycause that it was old and somdel streit-
By reason it was old and somewhat strict,
This ilke Monk leet olde thynges pace,
This said monk let such old things slowly pace
And heeld after the newe world the space.
And followed new-world manners in their place.
He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen,
He cared not for that text a clean-plucked hen
That seith that hunters beth nat hooly men,
Which holds that hunters are not holy men;
Ne that a monk, whan he is recchelees,
Nor that a monk, when he is cloisterless,
Is likned til a fissh that is waterlees-
Is like unto a fish that's waterless;
This is to seyn, a monk out of his cloystre-
That is to say, a monk out of his cloister.
But thilke text heeld he nat worth an oystre!
But this same text he held not worth an oyster;
And I seyde his opinioun was good,
And I said his opinion was right good.
What sholde he studie, and make hymselven wood,
What? Should he study as a madman would
Upon a book in cloystre alwey to poure,
Upon a book in cloister cell? Or yet
Or swynken with his handes and laboure
Go labour with his hands and swink and sweat,
As Austyn bit? How shal the world be served?
As Austin bids? How shall the world be served?
Lat Austyn have his swynk to him reserved;
Let Austin have his toil to him reserved.
Therfore he was a prikasour aright,
Therefore he was a rider day and night;
Grehoundes he hadde, as swift as fowel in flight;
Greyhounds he had, as swift as bird in flight.
Of prikyng and of huntyng for the hare
Since riding and the hunting of the hare
Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.
Were all his love, for no cost would he spare.
I seigh his sleves ypurfiled at the hond
I saw his sleeves were purfled at the hand
With grys, and that the fyneste of a lond;
With fur of grey, the finest in the land;
And for to festne his hood under his chyn
Also, to fasten hood beneath his chin,
He hadde of gold ywroght a curious pyn;
He had of good wrought gold a curious pin:
A love-knotte in the gretter ende ther was.
A love-knot in the larger end there was.
His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas,
His head was bald and shone like any glass,
And eek his face, as it hadde been enoynt.
And smooth as one anointed was his face.
He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt,
Fat was this lord, he stood in goodly case.
Hise eyen stepe, and rollynge in his heed,
His bulging eyes he rolled about, and hot
That stemed as a forneys of a leed;
They gleamed and red, like fire beneath a pot;
His bootes souple, his hors in greet estaat;
His boots were soft; his horse of great estate.
Now certeinly he was a fair prelaat!
Now certainly he was a fine prelate:
He was nat pale as a forpyned goost,
He was not pale as some poor wasted ghost.
A fat swan loved he best of any roost.
A fat swan loved he best of any roast.
His palfrey was as broun as is a berye,
His palfrey was as brown as is a berry.
A Frere ther was, a wantowne and a merye,
A friar there was, a wanton and a merry,
A lymytour, a ful solempne man,
A limiter, a very festive man.
In alle the ordres foure is noon that kan
In all the Orders Four is none that can
So muchel of daliaunce and fair langage.
Equal his gossip and his fair language.
He hadde maad ful many a mariage
He had arranged full many a marriage
Of yonge wommen at his owene cost.
Of women young, and this at his own cost.
Unto his ordre he was a noble post,
Unto his order he was a noble post.
And wel biloved and famulier was he
Well liked by all and intimate was he
With frankeleyns overal in his contree
With franklins everywhere in his country,
And eek with worthy wommen of the toun,
And with the worthy women of the town:
For he hadde power of confessioun,
For at confessing he'd more power in gown
As seyde hymself, moore than a curat,
(As he himself said) than it good curate,
For of his ordre he was licenciat.
For of his order he was licentiate.
Ful swetely herde he confessioun,
He heard confession gently, it was said,
And plesaunt was his a absolucioun,
Gently absolved too, leaving naught of dread.
He was an esy man to yeve penaunce
He was an easy man to give penance
Ther as he wiste to have a good pitaunce;
When knowing he should gain a good pittance;
For unto a povre ordre for to yive
For to a begging friar, money given
Is signe that a man is wel yshryve;
Is sign that any man has been well shriven.
For, if he yaf, he dorste make avaunt,
For if one gave (he dared to boast of this),
He wiste that a man was repentaunt.
He took the man's repentance not amiss.
For many a man so harde is of his herte,
For many a man there is so hard of heart
He may nat wepe, al thogh hym soore smerte;
He cannot weep however pains may smart.
Therfore, in stede of wepynge and preyeres,
Therefore, instead of weeping and of prayer,
Men moote yeve silver to the povre freres.
Men should give silver to poor friars all bare.
His typet was ay farsed ful of knyves
His tippet was stuck always full of knives
And pynnes, for to yeven yonge wyves.
And pins, to give to young and pleasing wives.
And certeinly he hadde a murye note,
And certainly he kept a merry note:
Wel koude he synge, and pleyen on a rote,
Well could he sing and play upon the rote.
Of yeddynges he baar outrely the pris.
At balladry he bore the prize away.
His nekke whit was as the flour delys;
His throat was white as lily of the May;
Therto he strong was as a champioun,
Yet strong he was as ever champion.
He knew the tavernes wel in every toun
In towns he knew the taverns, every one,
And everich hostiler and tappestere
And every good host and each barmaid too-
Bet than a lazar or a beggestere.
Better than begging lepers, these he knew.
For unto swich a worthy man as he
For unto no such solid man as he
Acorded nat, as by his facultee,
Accorded it, as far as he could see,
To have with sike lazars aqueyntaunce;
To have sick lepers for acquaintances.
It is nat honeste, it may nat avaunce,
There is no honest advantageousness
For to deelen with no swich poraille,
In dealing with such poverty-stricken curs;
But al with riche and selleres of vitaille;
It's with the rich and with big victuallers.
And overal, ther as profit sholde arise,
And so, wherever profit might arise,
Curteis he was, and lowely of servyse.
Courteous he was and humble in men's eyes.
Ther nas no man nowher so vertuous;
There was no other man so virtuous.
He was the beste beggere in his hous,
He was the finest beggar of his house;
(And yaf a certeyn ferme for the graunt
A certain district being farmed to him,
Noon of his brethren cam ther in his haunt;)
None of his brethren dared approach its rim;
For thogh a wydwe hadde noght a sho,
For though a widow had no shoes to show,
So plesaunt was his 'In principio'
So pleasant was his In principio,
Yet wolde he have a ferthyng er he wente;
He always got a farthing ere he went.
His purchas was wel bettre than his rente.
He lived by pickings, it is evident.
And rage he koude, as it were right a whelpe;
And he could romp as well as any whelp.
In love-dayes ther koude he muchel helpe;
On love days could he be of mickle help.
For there he was nat lyk a cloysterer,
For there he was not like a cloisterer,
With a thredbare cope, as is a povre scoler,
With threadbare cope as is the poor scholar,
But he was lyk a maister or a pope;
But he was like a lord or like a pope.
Of double worstede was his semycope,
Of double worsted was his semi-cope,
That rounded as a belle out of the presse.
That rounded like a bell, as you may guess.
Somwhat he lipsed for his wantownesse
He lisped a little, out of wantonness,
To make his Englissh sweete upon his tonge,
To make his English soft upon his tongue;
And in his harpyng, whan that he hadde songe,
And in his harping, after he had sung,
Hise eyen twynkled in his heed aryght
His two eyes twinkled in his head as bright
As doon the sterres in the frosty nyght.
As do the stars within the frosty night.
This worthy lymytour was cleped Huberd.
This worthy limiter was named Hubert.
A Marchant was ther, with a forkek berd,
There was a merchant with forked beard, and girt
In mottelee, and hye on horse he sat,
In motley gown, and high on horse he sat,
Upon his heed a Flaundryssh bevere hat,
Upon his head a Flemish beaver hat;
His bootes clasped faire and fetisly.
His boots were fastened rather elegantly.
Hise resons he spak ful solempnely,
His spoke his notions out right pompously,
Sownynge alway thencrees of his wynnyng.
Stressing the times when he had won, not lost.
He wolde the see were kept for any thyng
He would the sea were held at any cost
Bitwixe Middelburgh and Orewelle.
Across from Middleburgh to Orwell town.
Wel koude he in eschaunge sheeldes selle.
At money-changing he could make a crown.
This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette;
This worthy man kept all his wits well set;
Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette,
There was no one could say he was in debt,
So estatly was he of his governaunce,
So well he governed all his trade affairs
With his bargaynes and with his chevyssaunce.
With bargains and with borrowings and with shares.
Forsothe, he was a worthy man with-alle,
Indeed, he was a worthy man withal,
But, sooth to seyn, I noot how men hym calle.
But, sooth to say, his name I can't recall.
A Clerk ther was of Oxenford also,
A clerk from Oxford was with us also,
That unto logyk hadde longe ygo.
Who'd turned to getting knowledge, long ago.
As leene was his hors as is a rake,
As meagre was his horse as is a rake,
And he nas nat right fat, I undertake,
Nor he himself too fat, I'll undertake,
But looked holwe and therto sobrely.
But he looked hollow and went soberly.
Ful thredbare was his overeste courtepy,
Right threadbare was his overcoat; for he
For he hadde geten hym yet no benefice,
Had got him yet no churchly benefice,
Ne was so worldly for to have office,
Nor was so worldly as to gain office.
For hym was levere have at his beddes heed
For he would rather have at his bed's head
Twenty bookes, clad in blak or reed,
Some twenty books, all bound in black and red,
Of Aristotle and his plilosophie,
Of Aristotle and his philosophy
Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrie.
Than rich robes, fiddle, or gay psaltery.
But al be that he was a philosophre,
Yet, and for all he was philosopher,
Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre;
He had but little gold within his coffer;
But al that he myghte of his freendes hente,
But all that he might borrow from a friend
On bookes and his lernynge he it spente,
On books and learning he would swiftly spend,
And bisily gan for the soules preye
And then he'd pray right busily for the souls
Of hem that yaf hym wherwith to scoleye.
Of those who gave him wherewithal for schools.
Of studie took he moost cure and moost heede,
Of study took he utmost care and heed.
Noght o word spak he moore than was neede,
Not one word spoke he more than was his need;
And that was seyd in forme and reverence,
And that was said in fullest reverence
And short and quyk, and ful of hy sentence.
And short and quick and full of high good sense.
Sownynge in moral vertu was his speche,
Pregnant of moral virtue was his speech;
And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.
And gladly would he learn and gladly teach.
A Sergeant of the Lawe, war and wys,
A sergeant of the law, wary and wise,
That often hadde been at the parvys,
Who'd often gone to Paul's walk to advise,
Ther was also, ful riche of excellence.
There was also, compact of excellence.
Discreet he was, and of greet reverence,-
Discreet he was, and of great reverence;
He semed swich, hise wordes weren so wise.
At least he seemed so, his words were so wise.
Justice he was ful often in assise,
Often he sat as justice in assize,
By patente, and by pleyn commissioun.
By patent or commission from the crown;
For his science, and for his heigh renoun,
Because of learning and his high renown,
Of fees and robes hadde he many oon.
He took large fees and many robes could own.
So greet a purchasour was nowher noon,
So great a purchaser was never known.
Al was fee symple to hym in effect,
All was fee simple to him, in effect,
His purchasyng myghte nat been infect.
Wherefore his claims could never be suspect.
Nowher so bisy a man as he ther nas,
Nowhere a man so busy of his class,
And yet he semed bisier than he was;
And yet he seemed much busier than he was.
In termes hadde he caas and doomes alle,
All cases and all judgments could he cite
That from the tyme of Kyng William were falle.
That from King William's time were apposite.
Therto he koude endite, and make a thyng,
And he could draw a contract so explicit
Ther koude no wight pynche at his writyng.
Not any man could fault therefrom elicit;
And every statut koude he pleyn by rote.
And every statute he'd verbatim quote.
He rood but hoomly in a medlee cote
He rode but badly in a medley coat,
Girt with a ceint of silk, with barres smale;-
Belted in a silken sash, with little bars,
Of his array telle I no lenger tale.
But of his dress no more particulars.
A Frankeleyn was in his compaignye;
There was a franklin in his company;
Whit was his berd as is a dayesye.
White was his beard as is the white daisy.
Of his complexioun he was sangwyn.
Of sanguine temperament by every sign,
Wel loved he by the morwe a sope in wyn,
He loved right well his morning sop in wine.
To lyven in delit was evere his wone;
Delightful living was the goal he'd won,
For he was Epicurus owene sone,
For he was Epicurus' very son,
That heeld opinioun that pleyn delit
That held opinion that a full delight
Was verraily felicitee parfit,
Was true felicity, perfect and right.
An housholdere, and that a greet, was he;
A householder, and that a great, was he;
Seint Julian was he in his contree.
Saint Julian he was in his own country.
His breed, his ale, was alweys after oon,
His bread and ale were always right well done;
A bettre envyned man was nowher noon.
A man with better cellars there was none.
Withoute bake mete was nevere his hous,
Baked meat was never wanting in his house,
Of fissh and flessh, and that so plentevous,
Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous
It snewed in his hous of mete and drynke,
It seemed to snow therein both food and drink
Of alle deyntees that men koude thynke.
Of every dainty that a man could think.
After the sondry sesons of the yeer
According to the season of the year
So chaunged he his mete and his soper.
He changed his diet and his means of cheer.
Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in muwe,
Full many a fattened partridge did he mew,
And many a breem and many a luce in stuwe.
And many a bream and pike in fish-pond too.
Wo was his cook, but if his sauce were
Woe to his cook, except the sauces were
Poynaunt, and sharp, and redy al his geere.
Poignant and sharp, and ready all his gear.
His table dormant in his halle alway
His table, waiting in his hall alway,
Stood redy covered al the longe day.
Stood ready covered through the livelong day.
At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire;
At county sessions was he lord and sire,
Ful ofte tyme he was knyght of the shire.
And often acted as a knight of shire.
An anlaas and a gipser al of silk
A dagger and a trinket-bag of silk
Heeng at his girdel, whit as morne milk.
Hung from his girdle, white as morning milk.
A shirreve hadde he been, and a countour,
He had been sheriff and been auditor;
Was nowher swich a worthy vavasour.
And nowhere was a worthier vavasor.
An Haberdasshere and a Carpenter,
A haberdasher and a carpenter,
A Webbe, a Dyere, and a Tapycer-
An arras-maker, dyer, and weaver
And they were clothed alle in o lyveree
Were with us, clothed in similar livery,
Of a solempne and a greet fraternitee.
All of one sober, great fraternity.
Ful fressh and newe hir geere apiked was,
Their gear was new and well adorned it was;
Hir knyves were chaped noght with bras,
Their weapons were not cheaply trimmed with brass,
But al with silver wroght ful clene and weel,
But all with silver; chastely made and well
Hir girdles and hir pouches everydeel.
Their girdles and their pouches too, I tell.
Wel semed ech of hem a fair burgeys
Each man of them appeared a proper burges
To sitten in a yeldehalle on a deys.
To sit in guildhall on a high dais.
Everich for the wisdom that he kan
And each of them, for wisdom he could span,
Was shaply for to been an alderman;
Was fitted to have been an alderman;
For catel hadde they ynogh, and rente,
For chattels they'd enough, and, too, of rent;
And eek hir wyves wolde it wel assente-
To which their goodwives gave a free assent,
And eles, certeyn, were they to blame!
Or else for certain they had been to blame.
It is ful fair to been ycleped 'ma Dame,'
It's good to hear Madam before one's name,
And goon to vigilies al bifore,
And go to church when all the world may see,
And have a mantel roialliche ybore.
Having one's mantle borne right royally.
A Cook they hadde with hem for the nones,
A cook they had with them, just for the nonce,
To boille the chiknes with the marybones,
To boil the chickens with the marrow-bones,
And poudre-marchant tart, and galyngale.
And flavour tartly and with galingale.
Wel koude he knowe a draughte of London ale;
Well could he tell a draught of London ale.
He koude rooste, and sethe, and broille, and frye,
And he could roast and seethe and broil and fry,
Maken mortreux, and wel bake a pye.
And make a good thick soup, and bake a pie.
But greet harm was it, as it thoughte me,
But very ill it was, it seemed to me,
That on his shyne a mormal hadde he!
That on his shin a deadly sore had he;
For blankmanger, that made he with the beste.
For sweet blanc-mange, he made it with the best.
A Shipman was ther, wonynge fer by weste;
There was a sailor, living far out west;
For aught I woot, he was of Dertemouthe.
For aught I know, he was of Dartmouth town.
He rood upon a rouncy, as he kouthe,
He sadly rode a hackney, in a gown,
In a gowne of faldyng to the knee.
Of thick rough cloth falling to the knee.
A daggere hangynge on a laas hadde he
A dagger hanging on a cord had he
Aboute his nekke, under his arm adoun.
About his neck, and under arm, and down.
The hoote somer hadde maad his hewe al broun,
The summer's heat had burned his visage brown;
And certeinly he was a good felawe.
And certainly he was a good fellow.
Ful many a draughte of wyn had he ydrawe
Full many a draught of wine he'd drawn, I trow,
Fro Burdeuxward, whil that the chapman sleep.
Of Bordeaux vintage, while the trader slept.
Of nyce conscience took he no keep;
Nice conscience was a thing he never kept.
If that he faught, and hadde the hyer hond,
If that he fought and got the upper hand,
By water he sente hem hoom to every lond.
By water he sent them home to every land.
But of his craft, to rekene wel his tydes,
But as for craft, to reckon well his tides,
His stremes, and his daungers hym bisides,
His currents and the dangerous watersides,
His herberwe and his moone, his lodemenage,
His harbours, and his moon, his pilotage,
Ther nas noon swich from Hulle to Cartage.
There was none such from Hull to far Carthage.
Hardy he was, and wys to undertake,
Hardy. and wise in all things undertaken,
With many a tempest hadde his berd been shake;
By many a tempest had his beard been shaken.
He knew alle the havenes as they were
He knew well all the havens, as they were,
From Gootlond to the Cape of Fynystere,
From Gottland to the Cape of Finisterre,
And every cryke in Britaigne and in Spayne.
And every creek in Brittany and Spain;
His barge yeleped was the Maudelayne.
His vessel had been christened Madeleine.
With us ther was a Doctour of Phisik;
With us there was a doctor of physic;
In al this world ne was ther noon hym lik,
In all this world was none like him to pick
To speke of phisik and of surgerye;
For talk of medicine and surgery;
For he was grounded in astronomye.
For he was grounded in astronomy.
He kepte his pacient a ful greet deel
He often kept a patient from the pall
In houres, by his magyk natureel.
By horoscopes and magic natural.
Wel koude he fortunen the ascendent
Well could he tell the fortune ascendent
Of hisc ymages for his pacient.
Within the houses for his sick patient.
He knew the cause of everich maladye,
He knew the cause of every malady,
Were it of hoot or coold, or moyste, or drye,
Were it of hot or cold, of moist or dry,
And where they engendred, and of what humour.
And where engendered, and of what humour;
He was a verray parfit praktisour;
He was a very good practitioner.
The cause yknowe, and of his harm the roote,
The cause being known, down to the deepest root,
Anon he yaf the sike man his boote.
Anon he gave to the sick man his boot.
Ful redy hadde he hise apothecaries
Ready he was, with his apothecaries,
To sende him drogges and his letuaries,
To send him drugs and all electuaries;
For ech of hem made oother for to wynne,
By mutual aid much gold they'd always won-
Hir frendshipe nas nat newe to bigynne.
Their friendship was a thing not new begun.
Wel knew he the olde Esculapius,
Well read was he in Esculapius,
And Deyscorides and eek Rufus,
And Deiscorides, and in Rufus,
Olde Ypocras, Haly, and Galyen,
Hippocrates, and Hali, and Galen,
Serapioun, Razis, and Avycen,
Serapion, Rhazes, and Avicen,
Averrois, Damascien, and Constantyn,
Averrhoes, Gilbert, and Constantine,
Bernard, and Gatesden, and Gilbertyn.
Bernard and Gatisden, and John Damascene.
Of his diete mesurable was he,
In diet he was measured as could be,
For it was of no superfluitee,
Including naught of superfluity,
But of greet norissyng, and digestible.
But nourishing and easy. It's no libel
His studie was but litel on the Bible.
To say he read but little in the Bible.
In sangwyn and in pers he clad was al,
In blue and scarlet he went clad, withal,
Lyned with taffata and with sendal-
Lined with a taffeta and with sendal;
And yet he was but esy of dispence;
And yet he was right chary of expense;
He kepte that he wan in pestilence.
He kept the gold he gained from pestilence.
For gold in phisik is a cordial,
For gold in physic is a fine cordial,
Therfore he lovede gold in special.
And therefore loved he gold exceeding all.
A good wif was ther, of biside Bathe,
There was a housewife come from Bath, or near,
But she was somdel deef, and that was scathe.
Who- sad to say- was deaf in either ear.
Of clooth-makyng she hadde swich an haunt,
At making cloth she had so great a bent
She passed hem of ypres and of gaunt.
She bettered those of Ypres and even of Ghent.
In al the parisshe wif ne was ther noon
In all the parish there was no goodwife
That to the offrynge bifore hire sholde goon;
Should offering make before her, on my life;
And if ther dide, certeyn so wrooth was she,
And if one did, indeed, so wroth was she
That she was out of alle charitee.
It put her out of all her charity.
Hir coverchiefs ful fyne weren of ground;
Her kerchiefs were of finest weave and ground;
I dorste swere they weyeden ten pound
I dare swear that they weighed a full ten pound
That on a sonday weren upon hir heed.
Which, of a Sunday, she wore on her head.
Hir hosen weren of fyn scarlet reed,
Her hose were of the choicest scarlet red,
Ful streite yteyd, and shoes ful moyste and newe.
Close gartered, and her shoes were soft and new.
Boold was hir face, and fair, and reed of hewe.
Bold was her face, and fair, and red of hue.
She was a worthy womman al hir lyve:
She'd been respectable throughout her life,
Housbondes at chirche dore she hadde fyve,
With five churched husbands bringing joy and strife,
Withouten oother compaignye in youthe, --
Not counting other company in youth;
But therof nedeth nat to speke as nowthe.
But thereof there's no need to speak, in truth.
And thries hadde she been at jerusalem;
Three times she'd journeyed to Jerusalem;
She hadde passed many a straunge strem;
And many a foreign stream she'd had to stem;
At rome she hadde been, and at boloigne,
At Rome she'd been, and she'd been in Boulogne,
In galice at seint-jame, and at coloigne.
In Spain at Santiago, and at Cologne.
She koude muchel of wandrynge by the weye.
She could tell much of wandering by the way:
Gat-tothed was she, soothly for to seye.
Gap-toothed was she, it is no lie to say.
Upon an amblere esily she sat,
Upon an ambler easily she sat,
Ywympled wel, and on hir heed an hat
Well wimpled, aye, and over all a hat
As brood as is a bokeler or a targe;
As broad as is a buckler or a targe;
A foot-mantel aboute hir hipes large,
A rug was tucked around her buttocks large,
And on hir feet a paire of spores sharpe.
And on her feet a pair of sharpened spurs.
In felaweshipe wel koude she laughe and carpe.
In company well could she laugh her slurs.
Of remedies of love she knew per chaunce,
The remedies of love she knew, perchance,
For she koude of that art the olde daunce.
For of that art she'd learned the old, old dance.
A good man was ther of religioun,
There was a good man of religion, too,
And was a povre persoun of a toun,
A country parson, poor, I warrant you;
But riche he was of hooly thoght and werk.
But rich he was in holy thought and work.
He was also a lerned man, a clerk,
He was a learned man also, a clerk,
That cristes gospel trewely wolde preche;
Who Christ's own gospel truly sought to preach;
His parisshens devoutly wolde he teche.
Devoutly his parishioners would he teach.
Benygne he was, and wonder diligent,
Benign he was and wondrous diligent,
And in adversitee ful pacient,
Patient in adverse times and well content,
And swich he was ypreved ofte sithes.
As he was ofttimes proven; always blithe,
Ful looth were hym to cursen for his tithes,
He was right loath to curse to get a tithe,
But rather wolde he yeven, out of doute,
But rather would he give, in case of doubt,
Unto his povre parisshens aboute
Unto those poor parishioners about,
Of his offryng and eek of his substaunce.
Part of his income, even of his goods.
He koude in litel thyng have suffisaunce.
Enough with little, coloured all his moods.
Wyd was his parisshe, and houses fer asonder,
Wide was his parish, houses far asunder,
But he ne lefte nat, for reyn ne thonder,
But never did he fail, for rain or thunder,
In siknesse nor in meschief to visite
In sickness, or in sin, or any state,
The ferreste in his parisshe, muche and lite,
To visit to the farthest, small and great,
Upon his feet, and in his hand a staf.
Going afoot, and in his hand, a stave.
This noble ensample to his sheep he yaf,
This fine example to his flock he gave,
That first he wroghte, and afterward he taughte.
That first he wrought and afterwards he taught;
Out of the gospel he tho wordes caughte,
Out of the gospel then that text he caught,
And this figure he added eek therto,
And this figure he added thereunto-
That if gold ruste, what shal iren do?
That, if gold rust, what shall poor iron do?
For if a preest be foul, on whom we truste,
For if the priest be foul, in whom we trust,
No wonder is a lewed man to ruste;
What wonder if a layman yield to lust?
And shame it is, if a prest take keep,
And shame it is, if priest take thought for keep,
A shiten shepherde and a clene sheep.
A shitty shepherd, shepherding clean sheep.
Wel oghte a preest ensample for to yive,
Well ought a priest example good to give,
By his clennesse, how that his sheep sholde lyve.
By his own cleanness, how his flock should live.
He sette nat his benefice to hyre
He never let his benefice for hire,
And leet his sheep encombred in the myre
Leaving his flock to flounder in the mire,
And ran to londoun unto seinte poules
And ran to London, up to old Saint Paul's
To seken hym a chaunterie for soules,
To get himself a chantry there for souls,
Or with a bretherhed to been withholde;
Nor in some brotherhood did he withhold;
But dwelte at hoom, and kepte wel his folde,
But dwelt at home and kept so well the fold
So that the wolf ne made it nat myscarie;
That never wolf could make his plans miscarry;
He was a shepherde and noght a mercenarie.
He was a shepherd and not mercenary.
And though he hooly were and vertuous,
And holy though he was, and virtuous,
He was to synful man nat despitous,
To sinners he was not impiteous,
Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne,
Nor haughty in his speech, nor too divine,
But in his techyng discreet and benygne;
But in all teaching prudent and benign.
To drawen folk to hevene by fairnesse,
To lead folk into Heaven but by stress
By good ensample, this was his bisynesse.
Of good example was his busyness.
But it were any persone obstinat,
But if some sinful one proved obstinate,
What so he were, of heigh or lough estat,
Be who it might, of high or low estate,
Hym wolde he snybben sharply for the nonys.
Him he reproved, and sharply, as I know.
A bettre preest, I trowe, that nowher noon ys.
There is nowhere a better priest, I trow.
He waited after no pompe and reverence,
He had no thirst for pomp or reverence,
Ne maked him a spiced conscience,
Nor made himself a special, spiced conscience,
But Cristes loore, and Hise apostles twelve
But Christ's own lore, and His apostles' twelve
He taughte, but first he folwed it hym-selve.
He taught, but first he followed it himselve.
With hym ther was a Plowman, was his brother,
With him there was a plowman, was his brother,
That hadde ylad of dong ful many a fother.
That many a load of dung, and many another
A trewe swybnker and a good was he,
Had scattered, for a good true toiler, he,
Lyvynge in pees and parfit charitee.
Living in peace and perfect charity.
God loved he best with al his hoole herte
He loved God most, and that with his whole heart
At alle tymes, thogh him gamed or smerte,
At all times, though he played or plied his art,
And thanne his neighebore right as hym-selve;
And next, his neighbour, even as himself.
He wolde thresshe, and therto dyke and delve,
He'd thresh and dig, with never thought of pelf,
For Cristes sake, for every povre wight
For Christ's own sake, for every poor wight,
Withouten hire, if it lay in his myght.
All without pay, if it lay in his might.
Hise tithes payed he ful faire and wel,
He paid his taxes, fully, fairly, well,
Bothe of his propre swynk and his catel.
Both by his own toil and by stuff he'd sell.
In a tabard he rood, upon a mere.
In a tabard he rode upon a mare.
Ther was also a Reve and a Millere,
There were also a reeve and miller there;
A Somnour and a Pardoner also,
A summoner, manciple and pardoner,
A Maunciple, and myself, ther were namo.
And these, beside myself, made all there were.
The Millere was a stout carl for the nones,
The miller was a stout churl, be it known,
Ful byg he was of brawn and eek of bones-
Hardy and big of brawn and big of bone;
That proved wel, for overal ther he cam
Which was well proved, for when he went on lam
At wrastlyng he wolde have alwey the ram.
At wrestling, never failed he of the ram.
He was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre,
He was a chunky fellow, broad of build;
Ther was no dore that he nolde heve of harre,
He'd heave a door from hinges if he willed,
Or breke it at a rennyng with his heed.
Or break it through, by running, with his head.
His berd as any sowe or fox was reed,
His beard, as any sow or fox, was red,
And therto brood, as though it were a spade.
And broad it was as if it were a spade.
Upon the cop right of his nose he hade
Upon the coping of his nose he had
A werte, and thereon stood a toft of heres
A wart, and thereon stood a tuft of hairs,
Reed as the brustles of a sowes eres;
Red as the bristles in an old sow's ears;
Hise nosethirles blake were and wyde.
His nostrils they were black and very wide.
A swerd and bokeler bar he by his syde.
A sword and buckler bore he by his side.
His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys,
His mouth was like a furnace door for size.
He was a janglere and a goliardeys,
He was a jester and could poetize,
And that was moost of synne and harlotries.
But mostly all of sin and ribaldries.
Wel koude he stelen corn, and tollen thries,
He could steal corn and full thrice charge his fees;
And yet he hadde a thombe of gold, pardee.
And yet he had a thumb of gold, begad.
A whit cote and a blew hood wered he.
A white coat and blue hood he wore, this lad.
A baggepipe wel koude he blowe and sowne,
A bagpipe he could blow well, be it known,
And therwithal he broghte us out of towne.
And with that same he brought us out of town.
A gentil Maunciple was ther of a temple,
There was a manciple from an inn of court,
Of which achatours myghte take exemple
To whom all buyers might quite well resort
For to be wise in byynge of vitaille;
To learn the art of buying food and drink;
For wheither that he payde or took by taille,
For whether he paid cash or not, I think
Algate he wayted so in his achaat
That he so knew the markets, when to buy,
That he was ay biforn, and in good staat.
He never found himself left high and dry.
Now is nat that of God a ful fair grace,
Now is it not of God a full fair grace
That swich a lewed mannes wit shal pace
That such a vulgar man has wit to pace
The wisdom of an heep of lerned men?
The wisdom of a crowd of learned men?
Of maistres hadde he mo than thries ten,
Of masters had he more than three times ten,
That weren of lawe expert and curious,
Who were in law expert and curious;
Of whiche ther weren a duszeyne in that hous
Whereof there were a dozen in that house
Worthy to been stywardes of rente and lond
Fit to be stewards of both rent and land
Of any lord that is in Engelond,
Of any lord in England who would stand
To maken hym lyve by his propre good,
Upon his own and live in manner good,
In honour dettelees, but if he were wood;
In honour, debtless (save his head were wood),
Or lyve as scarsly as hym list desire,
Or live as frugally as he might desire;
And able for to helpen al a shire
These men were able to have helped a shire
In any caas that myghte falle or happe-
In any case that ever might befall;
And yet this manciple sette hir aller cappe!
And yet this manciple outguessed them all.
The Reve was a sclendre colerik man;
The reeve he was a slender, choleric man
His berd was shave as ny as ever he kan,
Who shaved his beard as close as razor can.
His heer was by his erys ful round yshorn,
His hair was cut round even with his ears;
His top was dokked lyk a preest biforn.
His top was tonsured like a pulpiteer's.
Ful longe were his legges, and ful lene,
Long were his legs, and they were very lean,
Ylyk a staf, ther was no calf ysene.
And like a staff, with no calf to be seen.
Wel koude he kepe a gerner and a bynne,
Well could he manage granary and bin;
Ther was noon auditour koude on him wynne.
No auditor could ever on him win.
Wel wiste he, by the droghte, and by the reyn,
He could foretell, by drought and by the rain,
The yeldynge of his seed and of his greyn.
The yielding of his seed and of his grain.
His lordes sheep, his neet, his dayerye,
His lord's sheep and his oxen and his dairy,
His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrye,
His swine and horses, all his stores, his poultry,
Was hooly in this reves governyng
Were wholly in this steward's managing;
And by his covenant yaf the rekenyng,
And, by agreement, he'd made reckoning
Syn that his lord was twenty yeer of age;
Since his young lord of age was twenty years;
Ther koude no man brynge hym in arrerage.
Yet no man ever found him in arrears.
Ther nas baillif, ne hierde, nor oother hyne,
There was no agent, hind, or herd who'd cheat
That he ne knew his sleighte and his covyne,
But he knew well his cunning and deceit;
They were adrad of hym as of the deeth.
They were afraid of him as of the death.
His wonyng was ful faire upon an heeth,
His cottage was a good one, on a heath;
With grene trees shadwed was his place.
By green trees shaded with this dwelling-place.
He koude bettre than his lord purchace.
Much better than his lord could he purchase.
Ful riche he was astored pryvely;
Right rich he was in his own private right,
His lord wel koude he plesen subtilly
Seeing he'd pleased his lord, by day or night,
To yeve and lene hym of his owene good,
By giving him, or lending, of his goods,
And have a thank, and yet a cote and hook.
And so got thanked- but yet got coats and hoods.
In youthe he hadde lerned a good myster,
In youth he'd learned a good trade, and had been
He was a wel good wrighte, a carpenter.
A carpenter, as fine as could be seen.
This reve sat upon a ful good stot,
This steward sat a horse that well could trot,
That was al pomely grey, and highte Scot.
And was all dapple-grey, and was named Scot.
A long surcote of pers upon he hade,
A long surcoat of blue did he parade,
And by his syde he baar a rusty blade.
And at his side he bore a rusty blade.
Of Northfolk was this reve, of which I telle,
Of Norfolk was this reeve of whom I tell,
Bisyde a toun men clepen Baldeswelle.
From near a town that men call Badeswell.
Tukked he was, as is a frere, aboute,
Bundled he was like friar from chin to croup,
And evere he rood the hyndreste of oure route.
And ever he rode hindmost of our troop.
A Somonour was ther with us in that place,
A summoner was with us in that place,
That hadde a fyr-reed cherubynnes face,
Who had a fiery-red, cherubic face,
For sawcefleem he was, with eyen narwe.
For eczema he had; his eyes were narrow
As hoot he was, and lecherous, as a sparwe,
As hot he was, and lecherous, as a sparrow;
With scalled browes blake, and piled berd,
With black and scabby brows and scanty beard;
Of his visage children were aferd.
He had a face that little children feared.
Ther nas quyk-silver, lytarge, ne brymstoon,
There was no mercury, sulphur, or litharge,
Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon,
No borax, ceruse, tartar, could discharge,
Ne oynement, that wolde clense and byte,
Nor ointment that could cleanse enough, or bite,
That hym myghte helpen of his wheldes white,
To free him of his boils and pimples white,
Nor of the knobbes sittynge on his chekes.
Nor of the bosses resting on his cheeks.
Wel loved he garleek, oynons, and eek lekes,
Well loved he garlic, onions, aye and leeks,
And for to drynken strong wyn, reed as blood;
And drinking of strong wine as red as blood.
Thanne wolde he speke and crie as he were wood.
Then would he talk and shout as madman would.
And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn,
And when a deal of wine he'd poured within,
Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn.
Then would. he utter no word save Latin.
A fewe termes hadde he, two or thre,
Some phrases had he learned, say two or three,
That he had lerned out of som decree-
Which he had garnered out of some decree;
No wonder is, he herde it al the day,
No wonder, for he'd heard it all the day;
And eek ye knowen wel how that a jay
And all you know right well that even a jay
Kan clepen 'watte' as wel as kan the Pope.
Can call out Wat as well as can the pope.
But who so koude in oother thyng hym grope,
But when, for aught else, into him you'd grope,
Thanne hadde he spent al his plilosophie;
'Twas found he'd spent his whole philosophy;
Ay 'questio quid juris' wolde he crie.
Just Questio quid juris would he cry.
He was a gentil harlot and a kynde,
He was a noble rascal, and a kind;
A bettre felawe sholde men noght fynde;
A better comrade 'twould be hard to find.
He wolde suffre, for a quart of wyn,
Why, he would suffer, for a quart of wine,
A good felawe to have his concubyn
Some good fellow to have his concubine
A twelf-monthe, and excuse hym atte fulle-
A twelve-month, and excuse him to the full
Ful prively a fynch eek koude he pulle.
(Between ourselves, though, he could pluck a gull).
And if he foond owher a good felawe,
And if he chanced upon a good fellow,
He wolde techen him to have noon awe,
He would instruct him never to have awe,
In swich caas, of the erchedekeness curs,
In such a case, of the archdeacon's curse,
But if a mannes soule were in his purs;
Except a man's soul lie within his purse;
For in his purs he sholde ypunysshed be,
For in his purse the man should punished be.
'Purs is the erchedekenes helle,' seyde he.
The purse is the archdeacon's Hell, said he.
But wel I woot he lyed right in dede;
But well I know he lied in what he said;
Of cursyng oghte ech gilty man him drede-
A curse ought every guilty man to dread
For curs wol slee, right as assoillyng savith-
(For curse can kill, as absolution save),
And also war him of a Significavit.
And 'ware significavit to the grave.
In daunger hadde he at his owene gise
In his own power had he, and at ease,
The yonge girles of the diocise,
The boys and girls of all the diocese,
And knew hir conseil, and was al hir reed.
And knew their secrets, and by counsel led.
A gerland hadde he set upon his heed
A garland had he set upon his head,
As greet as it were for an ale-stake;
Large as a tavern's wine-bush on a stake;
A bokeleer hadde he maad him of a cake.
A buckler had he made of bread they bake.
With hym ther rood a gentil Pardoner
With him there rode a gentle pardoner
Of Rouncivale, his freend and his compeer,
Of Rouncival, his friend and his compeer;
That streight was comen fro the court of Rome.
Straight from the court of Rome had journeyed he.
Ful loude he soong 'com hider, love, to me.'
Loudly he sang Come hither, love, to me,
This Somonour bar to hym a stif burdoun,
The summoner joining with a burden round;
Was nevere trompe of half so greet a soun.
Was never horn of half so great a sound.
This Pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex,
This pardoner had hair as yellow as wax,
But smothe it heeng as dooth a strike of flex;
But lank it hung as does a strike of flax;
By ounces henge hise lokkes that he hadde,
In wisps hung down such locks as he'd on head,
And therwith he hise shuldres overspradde;
And with them he his shoulders overspread;
But thynne it lay by colpons oon and oon.
But thin they dropped, and stringy, one by one.
But hood, for jolitee, wered he noon,
But as to hood, for sport of it, he'd none,
For it was trussed up in his walet.
Though it was packed in wallet all the while.
Hym thoughte he rood al of the newe jet,
It seemed to him he went in latest style,
Dischevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare.
Dishevelled, save for cap, his head all bare.
Swiche glarynge eyen hadde he as an hare.
As shiny eyes he had as has a hare.
A vernycle hadde he sowed upon his cappe.
He had a fine veronica sewed to cap.
His walet lay biforn hym in his lappe
His wallet lay before him in his lap,
Bret-ful of pardoun come from Rome al hoot.
Stuffed full of pardons brought from Rome all hot.
A voys he hadde as smal as hath a goot,
A voice he had that bleated like a goat.
No berd hadde he, ne nevere sholde have,
No beard had he, nor ever should he have,
As smothe it was as it were late shave,
For smooth his face as he'd just had a shave;
I trowe he were a geldyng or a mare.
I think he was a gelding or a mare.
But of his craft, fro Berwyk into Ware,
But in his craft, from Berwick unto Ware,
Ne was ther swich another Pardoner;
Was no such pardoner in any place.
For in his male he hadde a pilwe-beer,
For in his bag he had a pillowcase
Which that he seyde was Oure Lady veyl;
The which, he said, was Our True Lady's veil:
He seyde, he hadde a gobet of the seyl
He said he had a piece of the very sail
That Seinte Peter hadde, whan that he wente
That good Saint Peter had, what time he went
Upon the see, til Jesu Crist hym hente.
Upon the sea, till Jesus changed his bent.
He hadde a croys of latoun, ful of stones,
He had a latten cross set full of stones,
And in a glas he hadde pigges bones;
And in a bottle had he some pig's bones.
But with thise relikes whan that he fond
But with these relics, when he came upon
A povre persoun dwellyng up-on-lond,
Some simple parson, then this paragon
Upon a day he gat hym moore moneye
In that one day more money stood to gain
Than that the person gat in monthes tweye,
Than the poor dupe in two months could attain.
And thus with feyned flaterye and japes
And thus, with flattery and suchlike japes,
He made the persoun and the peple his apes.
He made the parson and the rest his apes.
But trewely to tellen atte laste,
But yet, to tell the whole truth at the last,
He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste;
He was, in church, a fine ecclesiast.
Wel koude he rede a lessoun or a storie,
Well could he read a lesson or a story,
But alderbest he song an offertorie,
But best of all he sang an offertory;
For wel he wiste, whan that song was songe
For well he knew that when that song was sung,
He moste preche, and wel affile his tonge;
Then might he preach, and all with polished tongue.
To wynne silver, as he ful wel koude,
To win some silver, as he right well could;
Therfore he song the murierly and loude.
Therefore he sang so merrily and so loud.
Now have I toold you shortly in a clause
Now have I told you briefly, in a clause,
Thestaat, tharray, the nombre, and eek the cause
The state, the array, the number, and the cause
Why that assembled was this compaignye
Of the assembling of this company
In Southwerk, at this gentil hostelrye,
In Southwark, at this noble hostelry
That highte the Tabard, faste by the Belle.
Known as the Tabard Inn, hard by the Bell.
But now is tyme to yow for to telle
But now the time is come wherein to tell
How that we baren us that ilke nyght
How all we bore ourselves that very night
Whan we were in that hostelrie alyght,
When at the hostelry we did alight.
And after wol I telle of our viage,
And afterward the story I engage
And all the remenaunt of oure pilgrimage.
To tell you of our common pilgrimage.
But first I pray yow, of youre curteisye,
But first, I pray you, of your courtesy,
That ye narette it nat my vileynye,
You'll not ascribe it to vulgarity
Thogh that I pleynly speke in this mateere
Though I speak plainly of this matter here,
To telle yow hir wordes and hir cheere,
Retailing you their words and means of cheer;
Ne thogh I speke hir wordes proprely.
Nor though I use their very terms, nor lie.
For this ye knowen also wel as I,
For this thing do you know as well as I:
Who-so shal telle a tale after a man,
When one repeats a tale told by a man,
He moot reherce as ny as evere he kan
He must report, as nearly as he can,
Everich a word, if it be in his charge,
Every least word, if he remember it,
Al speke he never so rudeliche or large;
However rude it be, or how unfit;
Or ellis he moot telle his tale untrewe,
Or else he may be telling what's untrue,
Or feyne thyng, or fynde wordes newe.
Embellishing and fictionizing too.
He may nat spare, al thogh he were his brother,
He may not spare, although it were his brother;
He moot as wel seye o word as another.
He must as well say one word as another.
Crist spak hym-self ful brode in Hooly Writ,
Christ spoke right broadly out, in holy writ,
And, wel ye woot, no vileynye is it.
And, you know well, there's nothing low in it.
Eek Plato seith, who so kan hym rede,
And Plato says, to those able to read:
The wordes moote be cosyn to the dede.
The word should be the cousin to the deed.
Also I prey yow to foryeve it me,
Also, I pray that you'll forgive it me
Al have I nat set folk in hir degree
If I have not set folk, in their degree
Heere in this tale, as that they sholde stonde-
Here in this tale, by rank as they should stand.
My wit is short, ye may wel understonde.
My wits are not the best, you'll understand.
Greet chiere made oure hoost us everichon,
Great cheer our host gave to us, every one,
And to the soper sette he us'anon.
And to the supper set us all anon;
He served us with vitaille at the beste;
And served us then with victuals of the best.
Strong was the wyn, and wel to drynke us lestel
Strong was the wine and pleasant to each guest.
A semely man oure Hooste was withalle
A seemly man our good host was, withal,
For to been a marchal in an halle.
Fit to have been a marshal in some hall;
A large man he was, with eyen stepe,
He was a large man, with protruding eyes,
A fairer burgeys was ther noon in Chepe;
As fine a burgher as in Cheapside lies;
Boold of his speche, and wys, and well ytaught,
Bold in his speech, and wise, and right well taught,
And of manhod hym lakkede right naught.
And as to manhood, lacking there in naught.
Eek therto he was right a myrie man;
Also, he was a very merry man,
And after soper pleyen he bigan,
And after meat, at playing he began,
And spak of myrthe amonges othere thynges,
Speaking of mirth among some other things,
Whan that we hadde maad our rekenynges,
When all of us had paid our reckonings;
And seyde thus: Now lordynges, trewely,
And saying thus: Now masters, verily
Ye been to me right welcome hertely,
You are all welcome here, and heartily:
For by my trouthe, if that I shal nat lye,
For by my truth, and telling you no lie,
I saugh nat this yeer so myrie a compaignye
I have not seen, this year, a company
Atones in this herberwe, as is now.
Here in this inn, fitter for sport than now.
Fayn wolde I doon yow myrthe, wiste I how-
Fain would I make you happy, knew I how.
And of a myrthe I am right now bythoght
And of a game have I this moment thought
To doon yow ese, and it shal coste noght.
To give you joy, and it shall cost you naught.
Ye goon to Caunterbury, God yow speede-
You go to Canterbury; may God speed
The blisful martir quite yow youre meede-
And the blest martyr soon requite your meed.
And wel I woot, as ye goon by the weye,
And well I know, as you go on your way,
Ye shapen yow to talen and to pleye,
You'll tell good tales and shape yourselves to play;
For trewely, confort ne myrthe is noon
For truly there's no mirth nor comfort, none,
To ride by the weye doumb as stoon,
Riding the roads as dumb as is a stone;
And therfore wol I maken yow disport,
And therefore will I furnish you a sport,
As I seyde erst, and doon yow som confort;
As I just said, to give you some comfort.
And if yow liketh alle by oon assent
And if you like it, all, by one assent,
For to stonden at my juggement,
And will be ruled by me, of my judgment,
And for to werken as I shal yow seye,
And will so do as I'll proceed to say,
To-morwe, whan ye riden by the weye,
Tomorrow, when you ride upon your way,
Now, by my fader soule that is deed,
Then, by my father's spirit, who is dead,
But ye be myrie I wol yeve yow myn heed!
If you're not gay, I'll give you up my head.
Hoold up youre hond, withouten moore speche.
Hold up your hands, nor more about it speak.
Oure conseil was nat longe for to seche-
Our full assenting was not far to seek;
Us thoughte it was noght worth to make it wys-
We thought there was no reason to think twice,
And graunted hym, withouten moore avys,
And granted him his way without advice,
And bad him seye his voirdit, as hym leste.
And bade him tell his verdict just and wise,
Lordynges, quod he, now herkneth for the beste,
Masters, quoth he, here now is my advice;
But taak it nought, I prey yow, in desdeyn.
But take it not, I pray you, in disdain;
This is the poynt, to speken short and pleyn,
This is the point, to put it short and plain,
That ech of yow, to shorte with oure weye,
That each of you, beguiling the long day,
In this viage shal telle tales tweye,
Shall tell two stories as you wend your way
To Caunterburyward I mene it so,
To Canterbury town; and each of you
And homward he shal tellen othere two,
On coming home, shall tell another two,
Of aventures that whilom han bifalle.
All of adventures he has known befall.
And which of yow that bereth hym best of alle-
And he who plays his part the best of all,
That is to seyn, that telleth in this caas
That is to say, who tells upon the road
Tales of best sentence and moost solaas-
Tales of best sense, in most amusing mode,
Shal have a soper at oure aller cost,
Shall have a supper at the others' cost
Heere in this place, sittynge by this post,
Here in this room and sitting by this post,
Whan that we come agayn fro Caunterbury.
When we come back again from Canterbury.
And for to make yow the moore mury
And now, the more to warrant you'll be merry,
I wol my-selven goodly with yow ryde
I will myself, and gladly, with you ride
Right at myn owene cost, and be youre gyde.
At my own cost, and I will be your guide.
And who so wole my juggement withseye
But whosoever shall my rule gainsay
Shal paye al that we spenden by the weye.
Shall pay for all that's bought along the way.
And if ye vouchesauf that it be so,
And if you are agreed that it be so,
Tel me anon, withouten wordes mo,
Tell me at once, or if not, tell me no,
And I wol erly shape me therfore.
And I will act accordingly. No more.
This thyng was graunted, and oure othes swore
This thing was granted, and our oaths we swore,
With ful gald herte, and preyden hym also
With right glad hearts, and prayed of him, also,
That he wolde vouchesauf for to do so,
That he would take the office, nor forgo
And that he wolde been oure governour,
The place of governor of all of us,
And of our tales juge and reportour,
Judging our tales; and by his wisdom thus
And sette a soper at a certeyn pris,
Arrange that supper at a certain price,
And we wol reuled been at his devys
We to be ruled, each one, by his advice
In heigh and lough; and thus by oon assent
In things both great and small; by one assent,
We been acorded to his juggement;
We stood committed to his government.
And therupon the wyn was fet anon,
And thereupon, the wine was fetched anon;
We dronken, and to reste wente echon
We drank, and then to rest went every one,
Withouten any lenger taryynge.
And that without a longer tarrying.
Amorwe, whan that day bigan to sprynge,
Next morning, when the day began to spring,
Up roos oure Hoost, and was oure aller cok,
Up rose our host, and acting as our cock,
And gadrede us to gidre, alle in a flok,
He gathered us together in a flock,
And forth we riden, a litel moore than paas,
And forth we rode, a jog-trot being the pace,
Unto the wateryng of Seint Thomas.
Until we reached Saint Thomas' watering-place.
And there oure Hoost bigan his hors areste,
And there our host pulled horse up to a walk,
And seyde, Lordynges, herkneth if yow leste,
And said: Now, masters, listen while I talk.
Ye woot youre foreward, and I it yow recorde;
You know what you agreed at set of sun.
If even-song and morwe-song accorde,
If even-song and morning-song are one,
Lat se now who shal telle the firste tale.
Let's here decide who first shall tell a tale.
As evere mote I drynke wyn or ale,
And as I hope to drink more wine and ale,
Whoso be rebel to my juggement
Whoso proves rebel to my government
Shal paye for al that by the wey is spent.
Shall pay for all that by the way is spent.
Now draweth cut, er that we ferrer twynne,
Come now, draw cuts, before we farther win,
He which that hath the shorteste shal bigynne.
And he that draws the shortest shall begin.
Sire knyght, quod he, my mayster and my lord,
Sir knight, said he, my master and my lord,
Now draweth cut, for that is myn accord,
You shall draw first as you have pledged your word.
Cometh neer, quod he, my lady Prioresse,
Come near, quoth he, my lady prioress:
And ye, Sir Clerk, lat be your shamefastnesse,
And you, sir clerk, put by your bashfulness,
Ne studieth noght; ley hond to, every man.
Nor ponder more; out hands, flow, every man!
Anon to drawen every wight bigan,
At once to draw a cut each one began,
And shortly for to tellen as it was,
And, to make short the matter, as it was,
Were it by aventure, or sort, or cas,
Whether by chance or whatsoever cause,
The sothe is this, the cut fil to the knyght,
The truth is, that the cut fell to the knight,
Of which ful blithe and glad was every wyght.
At which right happy then was every wight.
And telle he moste his tale, as was resoun,
Thus that his story first of all he'd tell,
By foreward and by composicioun,-
According to the compact, it befell,
As ye han herd, what nedeth wordes mo?
As you have heard. Why argue to and fro?
And whan this goode man saugh that it was so,
And when this good man saw that it was so,
As he that wys was and obedient
Being a wise man and obedient
To kepe his foreward by his free assent,
To plighted word, given by free assent,
He seyde, Syn I shal bigynne the game,
He slid: Since I must then begin the game,
What, welcome be the cut, a Goddes name!
Why, welcome be the cut, and in God's name!
Now lat us ryde, and herkneth what I seye.
Now let us ride, and hearken what I say.
And with that word we ryden forth oure weye,
And at that word we rode forth on our way;
And he bigan with right a myrie cheere
And he began to speak, with right good cheer,
His tale anon, and seyde in this manere.
His tale anon, as it is written here.