PROLOGUE TO THE CANTERBURY TALES.

A long surcote of perse upon he hade,
And by his side he bare a rusty blade.
Of Norfolk was this reve, of which I tell,
Beside a toun, men clepen Baldeswell.

Tucked he was, as is a frere, aboute,

And ever he rode the hinderest of the route.

A SOMPNOUR was ther with us in that place,
That hadde a fire-red cherubinnes face,
For sausefleme' he was, with eyen narwe.2
As hote he was, and likerous as a sparwe,3
With scalled browes blake, and pilled berd:
Of his visage children were sore aferd.
Ther na's quiksilver, litarge, ne brimston,
Boras, ceruse, ne oile of tartre non,

Ne oinement that wolde clense or bite,

That him might helpen of his whelkes+ white,
Ne of the knobbes sitting on his chekes.

Wel loved he garlike, onions, and lekes,

And for to drinke strong win as rede as blood.
Then wold hee speke, and crie as he were wood.
And whan that he wel dronken had the win,
Then wold he speken no word but Latin.
A fewe termes coude he, two or three,
That he had lerned out of som decree;
No wonder is, he herd it all the day.
And eke ye knowen wel, how that a jay

1 Pimpled.

2 Narrow.

3 Sparrow.

4 Stripes.

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Can clepen watte, as wel as can the pope.
But who so wolde in other thing him grope,
Than hadde he spent all his philosophie,
Ay, Questio quid juris, wolde he crie.

He was a gentil harlot and a kind;
A better felaw shulde a man not find.
He wolde suffre for a quart of wine,
A good felaw to have his concubine

1 Formerly used for both sexes.

PROLOGUE TO THE CANTERBURY TALES.

A twelve month, and excuse him at the fu'l.

Ful prively a finch eke coude he pull.1

And if he found owhere a good felawe,

He wolde techen him to have non awe
In swiche a cas of the archedekenes curse;
But if a mannes soule were in his purse,
For in his purse he shulde ypunished be.
Purse is the archedekens helle, said he.
But well I wote he lied right in dede:
Of cursing ought eche gilty man him drede
For curse wol sle right as assoiling saveth,
And also ware him of a significavit.

In danger hadde he at his owen gise 2
The yonge girles of the diocise,

And knew hir conseil, and was of hir rede.
A gerlond hadde he sette upon his hede,
As gret as it were for an alestake:

A bokeler hadde he made him of a cake.

With him ther rode a gentil PARDONERE
Of Rouncevall, his frend and his compere,
That streit was comen from the court of Rome.
Full loude he sang, "Come, hither, love, to me."

This sompnour bare to him a stiff burdoun,♦
Was never trompe of half so gret a soun.
This pardoner had here as yelwe 5 as wax,

But smoth it heng, as doth a strike of flax :

1 Defraud.

2 At his wish.

Counsel

4 Sang the base

5 Yellow hair.

20.

By unces heng his lokkes that he hadde,
And therwith he his shulders overspradde.
Ful thinne it lay, by culpons on and on,
But hode, for jolite, ne wered he non,
For it was trussed up in his wallet.

Him thought he rode al of the newe get,2
Dishevele, sauf his cappe, he rode all bare.
Swiche glaring eyen hadde he, as an hare.
A vernicle3 hadde he sewed upon his cappe.
His wallet lay beforne him in his lappe,

Bret-ful of pardon came from Rome al hote.
A vois he hadde, as smale as hath a gote.
No berde hadde he, ne never non shuide have,
As smothe it was as it were newe shave;

I trowe he were a gelding or a mare.
But of his craft, fro Berwike unto Ware,
Ne was ther swiche another pardonere.
For in his male he hadde a pilwebere,+
Which, as he saide, was oure ladies veil :
He saide, he hadde a gobbets of the seyl
Thatte Seint Peter had, whan that he went
Upon the see, till Jesu Crist him hent.
He had a crois of laton, ful of stones,

And in a glas he hadde pigges bones.
But with these relikes, whanne that he fond
A poure persone dwelling up on lond,

PROLOGUE TO THE CANTERBURY TALES.

Upon a day he gat him more moneie

Than that the persone gat in monethes tweie.
And thus with fained flattering and japes,

He made the persone, and the peple, his apes.
But trewely to tellen atte last,

He was in chirche a noble ecclesiast.

Wel coude he rede a lesson or a storie,

But alderbest he sang an offertorie:

For wel he wiste, whan that song was songe,
He muste preche, and wel afile his tonge,
To winne silver, as he right wel coude:
Therefore he sang the merrier and loude.

Now have I told you shortly in a clause, Th' estat, th' araie, the nembre, and eke the cause Why that assembled was this compagnie

In Southwerk at this gentil hostelrie,

That highte the Tabard, faste by the Belle.

But now is time to you for to telle,

How that we baren us that ilke night,
Whan we were in that hostelrie alight.
And after wol I telle of our viage,
And all the remenant of our pilgrimage.

But firste I praie you of your curtesie,
That ye ne arette it not my vilanie,
Though that I plainly speke in this matere,
To tellen you hir wordes and hir chere;
Ne though I speke hir wordes proprely.

For this ye knowen al so wel as I,

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