The Prologue
When that Aprilis, with his showers swoot,1
The drought of March hath pierced to the root,
And bathed every vein in such licóur,
Of which virtúe engender’d is the flower;
When Zephyrus eke with his swootë breath
Inspired hath in every holt2 and heath
The tender croppës,3 and the youngë sun
Hath in the Ram4 his halfë course y-run,
And smallë fowlës makë melody,
That sleepen all the night with open eye,
(So pricketh them natúre in their coráges5);
Then longë folk to go on pilgrimages,
And palmers6 for to seekë strangë strands,
To fernë hallows couth7 in sundry lands;
And specially, from every shirë’s end
Of Engleland, to Canterbury they wend,
The holy blissful Martyr for to seek,
That them hath holpen, when that they were sick.
Befell that, in that season on a day,
In Southwark at the Tabard8 as I lay,
Ready to wenden on my pilgrimage
To Canterbury with devout coráge,
At night was come into that hostelry
Well nine and twenty in a company
Of sundry folk, by áventure y-fall
In fellowship,9 and pilgrims were they all,
That toward Canterbury wouldë ride.
The chamber, and the stables werë wide,
And well we weren eased at the best.10
And shortly, when the sunnë was to rest,
So had I spoken with them every one,
That I was of their fellowship anon,
And madë forword11 early for to rise,
To take our way there as I you devise.12
But natheless, while I have time and space,
Ere that I farther in this talë pace,
Me thinketh it accordant to reasón,
To tell you allë the condition
Of each of them, so as it seemed me,
And which they weren, and of what degree;
And eke in what array that they were in:
And at a Knight then will I first begin.
A Knight there was, and that a worthy man,
That from the timë that he first began
To riden out, he loved chivalry,
Truth and honoúr, freedom and courtesy.
Full worthy was he in his Lordë’s war,
And thereto had he ridden, no man farre,13
As well in Christendom as in Heatheness,
And ever honour’d for his worthiness.
At Alisandre14 he was when it was won.
Full often time he had the board begun
Above allë natións in Prusse.15
In Lettowe had he reysed,16 and in Russe,
No Christian man so oft of his degree.
In Grenade at the siege eke had he be
Of Algesir,17 and ridden in Belmarie.18
At Leyës was he, and at Satalie,
When they were won; and in the Greatë Sea19
At many a noble army had he be.
At mortal battles had he been fifteen,
And foughten for our faith at Tramissene.20
In listës thriës, and aye slain his foe.
This ilkë21 worthy knight had been also
Some timë with the lord of Palatie,22
Against another heathen in Turkie:
And evermore he had a sovereign price.23
And though that he was worthy he was wise,
And of his port as meek as is a maid.
He never yet no villainy24 ne said
In all his life, unto no manner wight.
He was a very perfect gentle knight.
But for to tellë you of his array,
His horse was good, but yet he was not gay.
Of fustian he weared a gipon,
Allë besmotter’d with his habergeon,25
For he was late y-come from his voyáge,
And wentë for to do his pilgrimage.
With him there was his son, a youngë Squire,
A lover, and a lusty bacheler,
With lockës crulle26 as they were laid in press.
Of twenty year of age he was I guess.
Of his statúre he was of even length,
And wonderly deliver,27 and great of strength.
And he had been some time in chevachie,28
In Flanders, in Artois, and Picardie,
And borne him well, as of so little space,29
In hope to standen in his lady’s grace.
Embroider’d was he, as it were a mead
All full of freshë flowers, white and red.
Singing he was, or fluting all the day;
He was as fresh as is the month of May.
Short was his gown, with sleevës long and wide.
Well could he sit on horse, and fairë ride.
He couldë songës make, and well indite,
Joust, and eke dance, and well pourtray and write.
So hot he loved, that by nightertale30
He slept no more than doth the nightingale.
Courteous he was, lowly, and serviceable,
And carv’d before his father at the table.31
A Yeoman had he, and servánts no mo’
At that timë, for him list ridë so;32
And he was clad in coat and hood of green.
A sheaf of peacock arrows33 bright and keen
Under his belt he bare full thriftily.
Well could he dress his tackle yeomanly:
His arrows drooped not with feathers low;
And in his hand he bare a mighty bow.
A nut-head34 had he, with a brown viságe:
Of wood-craft coud35 he well all the uságe:
Upon his arm he bare a gay bracér,36
And by his side a sword and a bucklér,
And on that other side a gay daggere,
Harnessed well, and sharp as point of spear:
A Christopher37 on his breast of silver sheen.
An horn he bare, the baldric was of green:
A forester38 was he soothly39 as I guess.
There was also a Nun, a Prioress,
That of her smiling was full simple and coy;
Her greatest oathë was but by Saint Loy;40
And she was cleped41 Madame Eglentine.
Full well she sang the servicë divine,
Entuned in her nose full seemëly;42
And French she spake full fair and fetisly43
After the school of Stratford attë Bow,
For French of Paris was to her unknow.
At meatë was she well y-taught withal;
She let no morsel from her lippës fall,
Nor wet her fingers in her saucë deep.
Well could she carry a morsel, and well keep,
That no droppë ne fell upon her breast.
In courtesy was set full much her lest.44
Her over-lippë wiped she so clean,
That in her cup there was no farthing45 seen
Of greasë, when she drunken had her draught;
Full seemëly after her meat she raught:46
And sickerly she was of great disport,47
And full pleasánt, and amiable of port,
And pained her to counterfeitë cheer
Of court,48 and be estately of mannére,
And to be holden digne49 of reverence.
But for to speaken of her consciénce,
She was so charitable and so pitous,50
She wouldë weep if that she saw a mouse
Caught in a trap, if it were dead or bled.
Of smallë houndës had she, that she fed
With roasted flesh, and milk, and wastel bread.51
But sore she wept if one of them were dead,
Or if men smote it with a yardë52 smart:
And all was conscience and tender heart.
Full seemly her wimple y-pinched was;
Her nose tretis;53 her eyen gray as glass;54
Her mouth full small, and thereto soft and red;
But sickerly she had a fair forehéad.
It was almost a spannë broad I trow;
For hardily she was not undergrow.55
Full fetis56 was her cloak, as I was ware.
Of small corál about her arm she bare
A pair of beadës, gauded all with