CHAUCER.

THE PROLOGUE.

WHAN that Aprille with his schowres swoote
The drought of Marche hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertue engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breethe
Enspired hath in every holte and heethe
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours i-ronne,
And smale fowles maken melodie,

That slepen al the night with open eyhe,
So priketh hem nature in here corages:—
Thanne longen folk to gon on pilgrimages,
And palmers for to seeken straunge strondes,
To ferne halwes, kouthe in sondry londes;
And specially, from every schires ende
Of Engelond, to Canturbury they wende,

The holy blisful martir for to seeke,

That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.

Byfel that, in that sesoun on a day,

In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay,

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Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage
To Canturbury with ful devout corage,
At night was come into that hostelrie
Wel nyne and twenty in a companye,
Of sondry folk, by aventure i-falle

In felawschipe, and pilgryms were thei alle,
That toward Canturbury wolden ryde;
The chambres and the stables weren wyde,
And wel we weren esed atte beste.

And schortly, whan the sonne was to reste,
So hadde I spoken with hem everychon,
That I was of here felawschipe anon,
And made forward erly for to ryse,

To take our weye ther as I yow devyse.
But natheles, whiles I have tyme and space,
Or that I forther in this tale pace,
Me thinketh it acordant to resoun,
To telle yow al the condicioun

Of eche of hem, so as it semede me,
And which they weren, and of what degre;
And eek in what array that they were inne:
And at a knight than wol I first bygynne.

A KNIGHT ther was, and that a worthy man,
That from the tyme that he first bigan
To ryden out, he lovede chyvalrye,
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curtesie.
Ful worthi was he in his lordes werre,
And thereto hadde he riden, noman ferre,
As wel in Cristendom as in hethenesse,
And evere honoured for his worthinesse.
At Alisandre he was whan it was wonne,
Ful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bygonne
Aboven alle naciouns in Pruce.

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In Lettowe hadde he reysed and in Ruce,
No cristen man so ofte of his degre.

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In Gernade atte siege hadde he be

Of Algesir, and riden in Belmarie.

At Lieys was he, and at Satalie,

Whan they were wonne; and in the Greete see
At many a noble arive hadde he be.

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At mortal batailles hadde he ben fiftene,

And foughten for oure feith at Tramassene
In lystes thries, and ay slayn his foo.
This ilke worthi knight hadde ben also
Sometyme with the lord of Palatye,
Ageyn another hethene in Turkye:

And everemore he hadde a sovereyn prys.

And though that he was worthy, he was wys,
And of his port as meke as is a mayde.

He nevere yit no vilonye ne sayde

In al his lyf, unto no maner wight.

I ut for to telle you of his array,

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He was a verray perfight gentil knight.

His hors was good, but he ne was nought gay.
Of fustyan he werede a gepoun

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Al bysmotered with his habergeoun.

For he was late ycome from his viage,

And wente for to doon his pilgrimage.

With him ther was his sone, a yong SQUYER,

A lovyere, and a lusty bacheler,

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With lokkes crulle as they were leyd in presse.

Of twenty yeer of age he was I gesse.
Of his stature he was of evene lengthe,
And wonderly delyvere, and gret of strengthe.
And he hadde ben somtyme in chivachie,
In Flaundres, in Artoys, and Picardie,

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