But he did not, after all, avoid all interference with the operations of nature; and as one evidence that his work was built on nature, he commences talking about her. He refreshes the earth with sweet April rains and strows it with flowers; he inspires the green and tender shoots with the fragrant breath of spring, and nature stirs all energies and ages, when the pilgrimage commences.

"When that sweet April showers with downward shoot *
The drought of March have pierc'd unto the root,
And bathed every vein with liquid power,
Whose virtue rare engendereth the flower;
When Zephyrus also with his fragrant breath
Inspired hath in every grove and heath

The tender shoots of green, and the young sun;
Hath in the Ram one half his journey run
And small birds in the trees make melody,
That sleep and dream all night with open eye;
So nature stirs all energies and ages,

That folks are bent to go on pilgrimages,
And palmers for to wander thro' strange strands,
To sing the holy mass in sundry lands;

And more especially, from each shire's end

Of England, they to Canterbury wend,
The holy blissful martyr for to seek,

Who hath upheld them when that they were weak,
It fell, within that season on a day
In Southwark, at the Tabard as I lay,
Ready to wend upon my pilgrim route
To Canterbury, with a heart devout,
At night was come into that hostelry
Well nine-and-twenty in a company,
Of sundry folk who thus had chanc'd to fall
In fellowship, and pilgrims were they all,

* Reversified by R. H. Horne.

That now to Canterbury town would ride.
The chambers and the stables they were wide,
And all of us refreshed, and of the best.

And shortly when the sun was gone to rest,
So had I spoken with them every one,
That I was of their fellowship anon,

And then promise early for to rise
To take our way there, as we did advise.
But ne'ertheless, while I have time and space
Ere that I further in this story pace,
Methinks it were accordant with good sense
To tell you the condition and pretence

Of each of them, so as it seem'd to me;

And which they were-of what kind, and degree;
And eke in what array that they were in:

And at a knight, then, will I first begin.

THE KNIGHT.

He was a worthy man and like all heroes of romance, he is brave and generous; upright and honorable; patriotic and courteous:

He loved chivalry,

Truth and honor, freedom and courtesy.

He is the most illustrious knight that ever wore an iron mail or bore a trophied lance either in christian or heathen land. And yet he bears his honors meekly: he is wise and humble, kind and courteous:

Though thus at all times honor'd, he was wise,
And of his port as meek as is a maid.
He never yet a word discourteous said
In all his life to any mortal wight:
He was a very perfect, gentle knight.

But for to tell you of his staid array,—
His horse was good, albeit he was gay.

He wore a fustian cassack, short and plain,
All smutch'd with rust from coat of mail, and rain.
For he was late return'd; and he was sage,
And cared for nought but his good pilgrimage.

THE SQUIRE.

Chaucer takes advantage of the variety of his characters by arranging the serious and the comic in nearly alternate succession; which arrangement displays them with the greatest effect. The sighing lover follows by the side of the noble knight; valor is contrasted with love; the simple and coy princess is attended by the sturdy yeoman with his coat and hood of green. From this grouping of characters, in the delineation, a rich vein of humor and irony is made to run through the whole.

His son, a young SQUIRE, with him there I saw ;
A lover and a lusty bachelor;

With locks, crisp, curl'd as they'd been laid in press:

Of twenty years of age he was, I guess.

He was in stature of the common length,
With wondrous nimbleness, and great of strength:
And he had been in expeditions three

In Flanders, Artois, and in Picardy;
And borne him well, tho' in so little space
In hope to stand fair in his lady's grace.
Embroidered was he as it were a mead,
All crowded with fresh 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 sleeves right long and wide

Well could he sit his horse, and fairly ride.
He could make songs, and letters well endite,
Joust and eke dance, and portraits paint, and write.
His amorous ditties nightly filled the vale;
He slept no more than doth the nightingale.
Courteous he was, modest and serviceable,
And carved before his father at the table.

THE YEOMAN.

The sturdy yeoman with his nut brown visage and giant form, is firm and dauntless; both by nature and habit, by the texture of his body, and the temper of his mind he presents us the picture of a man qualified both for action and endurance.

A YEOMAN had he; and no page beside:
It pleased him, on this journey, thus to ride;
And he was clad in coat and hood of green.
A sheaf of peacock arrows, 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.
His head was like a nut, with visage brown.
Of wood-craft all the ways to him were known.
An arm-brace wore he that was rich and broad,
And by his side a buckler and a sword;
While on the other side a dagger rare

Well sheathed was hung, and on his breast he bare
A large St. Christopher of silver sheen.

A horn he had; the baldric was of green.

A forester was he truly, as I guess.

THE PRIORESS.

She is modest, reserved and inaccessible, yet she indulges freely the generous impulses of her nature; cheerful, sprightly, and conscientious, she attests her spiritual life. She possesses a constitution, the very nature of which is a law unto herself, the elements of which law are tenderness, simplicity, and truth. She is delicate without being fastidious; affable without familiarity; and courteous without officiousness. And of a truth she was of great disport;

Pleasant to all and amiable of port.

It gave her pain to counterfeit the ways

Of court; its stately manner and displays;
And to be held in distant reverence.

Grey eyes and a large forehead were beautiful in Chaucer's day:

Full seemly was her 'kerchief crimp'd across;
Her nose well cut and long; eyes grey as glass;
Her mouth was small, and thereto soft and red,
And certainly a forehead fair she had:
It was almost a span in breadth I trow;
And truly she was not of stature low.

Most proper was her cloak, as I was ware,
Of coral small about her arm she bare
Two strings of beads, bedizen'd all with green,
And thereon hung a broach of gold full sheen,
On which was graven first a crowned A
And after "Amor vincit omnia."

THE MONK.

Chaucer's character of a monk is drawn purely for comical effect, and it agrees with the condition of the