October 3 The Harvard Classics, fifteen minutes a day
Good Enough for Chaucer
When polite English society conversed in French—considering English a vulgar tongue, fit only for servants and working people—Chaucer, nevertheless, wrote poems in this “vulgar” English, which charm us because of their quaint words.
From the 1930 Reading Guide
Poems
Geoffrey Chaucer
GEOFFREY CHAUCER
[1340(?)-1400]
1 THE PROLOGUE TO THE CANTERBURY TALES
WHAN that Aprille with his shoures soote1The droghte2 of Marche hath perced to the roote,And bathed every veyne in swich3 licour,Of which vertu engendred is the flour;Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breethInspired hath in every holt4 and heethThe tendre croppes,5 and the yonge sonneHath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,6And smale fowles maken melodye,That slepen al the night with open yë,(So priketh hem nature in hir corages:7Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,And palmers for to seken straunge strondes,8To ferne halwes,9 couthe10 in sondry londes;And specially, from every shires endeOf Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,The holy blisful martir for to seke,That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seke.11Bifel that, in that sesoun on a day,In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay12Redy to wenden on my pilgrimageTo Caunterbury with ful devout corage,At night was come in-to that hostelryeWel13 nyne and twenty in a compaignye,Of sondry folk, by aventure14 y-falle15In felawshipe, and pilgrims were they alle,That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde;The chambres and the stables weren wyde,And wel we weren esed atte beste.16And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste,So hadde I spoken with hem everichon,17That I was of hir felawshipe anon,And made forward18 erly for to ryse,To take our wey, ther as I yow devyse.19But natheles,20 whyl I have tyme and space,Er that I ferther in this tale pace,21Me thinketh it acordaunt to resoun,To telle yew al the condicioun22Of ech of hem, so as it semed me,And whiche23 they weren, and of what degree;And eek in what array that they were inne:And at a knight than wol I first biginne.A KNIGHT ther was, and that a worthy man,That fro the tyme that he first biganTo ryden out, he loved chivalrye,Trouthe and honour, fredom24 and curteisye.Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre,25And thereto26 hadde he riden (no man ferre27)As wel in cristendom as hethenesse,And evere honoured for his worthinesse.At Alisaundre he was, whan it was wonne;Ful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bigonne28Aboven alle naciouns in Pruce.29In Lettow30 hadde he reysed31 and in Ruce,32No cristen man so ofte of his degree.In Gernade33 at the sege eek hadde he beOf Algezir, and riden in Belmarye.34At Lyeys35 was he, and at Satalye,35Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete See36At many a noble aryve37 hadde he be,At mortal batailles hadde he been fiftene,And foughten for our feith at Tramissene34In listes thryes, and ay slayn his foo.This ilke38 worthy knight hadde been alsoSomtyme with the lord of Palatye,35Ageyn another hethen in Turkye:And everemore he hadde a sovereyn prys.39And though that he were worthy, he was wys,And of his port40 as meek as is a mayde.He nevere yet no vileinye41 ne saydeIn al his lyf, un-to no maner wight.42He was a verray parfit gentil knight.But for to tellen yow of his array,His hors were goode, but he was nat gay.Of fustian43 he wered a gipoun44Al bismotered45 with his habergeoun.46For he was late y-come from his viage,47And wente for to doon his pilgrimage.With him ther was his sone, a yong SQUYER,A lovyer, and a lusty bacheler,With lokkes crulle,48 as they were leyd in presse.Of twenty yeer of age he was, I gesse.Of his stature he was of evene lengthe,49And wonderly delivere,50 and greet of strengthe.And he hadde been somtyme in chivachye,51In Flaundres, in Artoys, and Picardye,And born him wel, as of so litel space,52In hope to stonden in his lady53 grace.Embrouded was he, as it were a medeAl ful of fresshe floures, whyte and rede.Singinge he was, or floytinge,54 al the day;He was as fresh as is the month of May.Short was his goune, with sleves longe and wyde.Wel coude he sitte on hors, and faire ryde.He coude songes make and wel endyte,55Iuste and eek daunce, and wel purtreye and wryte.So hote he lovede, that by nightertale56He sleep namore than doth a nightingale.Curteys he was, lowly, and servisable,And carf57 biforn his fader at the table.A YEMAN hadde he,58 and servaunts namo59At that tyme, for him liste60 ryde so;And he was clad in cote and hood of grene;A sheef61 of pecok arwes brighte and keneUnder his belt he bar ful thriftily,(Wel coude he dresse his takel yemanly:His arwes drouped noght with fetheres lowe),And in his hand he bar a mighty bowe.A not-heed62 hadde he, with a broun visage.Of wode-craft wel coude63 he al the usage.Upon his arm he bar a gay bracer,64And by his syde a swerd and a bokeler,And on that other syde a gay daggere,Harneised65 wel, and sharp as point of spere;A Cristofre66 on his brest of silver sheneAn horn he bar, the bawdrik67 was of grene;A forster was he, soothly, as I gesse.Ther was also a Nonne, a PRIORESSE,That of hir smyling was ful simple and coy;Hir gretteste ooth was but by sëynt Loy;68And she was cleped69 madame Eglentyne.Ful wel she song the service divyne,Entuned in hir nose ful semely;And Frensh she spak ful faire and fetisly,70After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe,71For Frensh of Paris was to hir unknowe.At mete wel y-taught was she with-alle;She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,Ne wette hir fingres in hir sauce depe.Wel coude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe,That no drope ne fille up-on hir brest.In curteisye was set ful moche hir lest.72Hir over lippe73 wyped she so clene,That in hir coppe was no ferthing74 seneOf grece, whan she dronken hadde hir draughte.Ful semely after hir mete she raughte,75And sikerly76 she was of greet disport,77And ful plesaunt, and amiable of port,And peyned hir to countrefete chere78Of court, and been estatlich79 of manere,And to ben holden digne80 of reverence.But, for to speken of hir conscience,81She was so charitable and so pitous,She wolde wepe, if that she sawe a mousCaught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.Of smale houndes had she, that she feddeWith rosted flesh, or milk and wastel breed.82But sore weep she if oon of hem were deed,Or if men smoot it with a yerde83 smerte:And al was conscience81 and tendre herte.Ful semely84 hir wimpel85 pinched86 was;Hir nose tretys;87 hir eyen greye as glas;Hir mouth ful smal, and ther-to softe and reed;But sikerly she hadde a fair forheed.It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe;For, hardily,88 she was nat undergrowe.Ful fetis89 was hir cloke, as I was war.Of smal coral aboute hir arm she barA peire90 of bedes, gauded91 al with grene;And ther-on heng a broche of gold ful shene,On which ther was first write a crowned A,And after, Amor vincit omnia.92Another NONNE with hir hadde she,That was hir chapeleyne, and PREESTES thre.A MONK ther was, a fair for the maistrye,93An out-rydere,94 that lovede venerye;95A manly man, to been an abbot able.Ful many a deyntee hors hadde he in stable:And, whan he rood, men mighte his brydel hereGinglen in a whistling wynd as clere,And eek as loude as dooth the chapel-belle,Ther-as96 this lord was keper of the celle.97The reule of seint Maure or of seint Beneit,By-cause that it was old and som-del streit,98This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace,And held after the newe world the space.He yaf99 nat of that text a pulled100 hen,That seith, that hunters been nat holy men;Ne that a monk, whan he is cloisterlees101Is likned til a fish that is waterlees;This is to seyn, a monk out of his cloistre.But thilke text held he nat worth an oistre.And I seyde his opinioun was good.What sholde he studie, and make him-selven wood,102Upon a book in cloistre alwey to poure,Or swinken103 with his handes, and laboure,As Austin bit?104 How shal the world be served?Lat Austin have his swink to him reserved.Therfor he was a pricasour105 aright;Grehoundes he hadde, as swifte as fowel in flight;Of priking106 and of hunting for the hareWas al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.I seigh107 his sleves purfiled108 at the hondWith grys,109 and that the fyneste of a lond;And, for to festne his hood under his chin,He hadde of gold y-wroght a curious pin:A love-knot in the gretter ende ther was.His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas,And eek his face, as he hadde been anoint.He was a lord ful fat and in good point;110His eyen stepe,111 and rollinge in his heed,That stemed112 as a forneys of a leed;113His botes souple, his hors in greet estaat.Now certeinly he was a fair prelat;He was nat pale as a for-pyned114 goost.A fat swan loved he best of any roost.His palfrey was as broun as is a berye.A FRERE ther was, a wantown and a merye,A limitour,115 a ful solempne116 man.In alle the ordres foure117 is noon that can118So moche of daliaunce and fair langage.He hadde maad ful many a mariageOf yonge wommen, at his owne cost.Un-to his ordre he was a noble post.Ful wel biloved and famulier was heWith frankeleyns119 over-al in his contree,And eek with worthy wommen of the toun:For he had power of confessioun,As seyde him-self, more than a curat,For of his ordre he was licentiat.Ful swetely herde he confessioun,And plesaunt was his absolucioun;He was an esy man to yeve penaunceTher as he wiste to han a good pitaunce;120For unto a povre ordre for to yiveIs signe that a man is wel y-shrive.121For if he122 yaf, he dorste make avaunt,He wiste that a man was repentaunt.For many a man so hard is of his herte,He may nat wepe al-thogh him sore smerte.Therfore, in stede of weping and preyeres,Men moot123 yeve silver to the povre freres.His tipet was ay farsed124 ful of knyvesAnd pinnes, for to yeven faire wyves.And certeinly he hadde a mery note;Wel coude he singe and pleyen on a rote.125Of yeddinges126 he bar utterly the prys.His nekke whyt was as the flour-de-lys;Ther-to he strong was as a champioun.He knew the tavernes wel in every toun,And everich hostiler and tappestereBet127 than a lazar128 or a beggestere;129For un-to swich a worthy man as heAcorded nat, as by his facultee,130To have with seke lazars aqueyntaunce.It is nat honest,131 it may nat avaunceFor to delen with no swich poraille,132But al with riche and sellers of vitaille.And over-al,133 ther-as profit sholde aryse,Curteys he was, and lowly of servyse.Ther nas no man nowher so vertuous.134He was the beste beggere in his hous;For thogh a widwe hadde noght a sho,So plesaunt was his “In principio”,135Yet wolde he have a ferthing, er he wente.His purchas was wel bettre than his rente.136And rage137 he coude as it were right a whelpe.In love-dayes138 ther coude he mochel helpe.For ther he was nat lyk a cloisterer,With a thredbare cope, as is a povre scoler,But he was lyk a maister or a pope.Of double worsted was his semi-cope,139That rounded as a belle out of the presse.Somwhat he lipsed, for his wantownesse,140To make his English swete up-on his tonge;And in his harping, whan that he had songe,His eyen twinkled in his heed aright,As doon the sterres in the frosty night.This worthy limitour was cleped141 Huberd.A MARCHANT was ther with a forked berd,In mottelee,142 and hye on horse he sat,Up-on his heed a Flaundrish bever hat;His botes clasped faire and fetisly.143His resons144 he spak ful solempnely,Sowninge145 alway thencrees of his winning.He wolde the see were kept146 for any thing147Bitwixe Middleburgh and Orewelle.Wel coude he in eschaunge sheeldes148 selle.This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette;149Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette,So estatly150 was he of his governaunce,151With his bargaynes, and with his chevisaunce.152For sothe he was a worthy man with-alle,But sooth to seyn, I noot how men him calle.A CLERK153 ther was of Oxenford also,That un-to logik hadde longe y-go.154As lene was his hors as is a rake,And he nas nat right fat, I undertake;But loked holwe, and ther-to soberly.Ful thredbar was his overest courtepy;155For he had geten him yet no benefice,Ne was so worldly for to have office.For him was levere156 have at his beddes heedTwenty bokes, clad in blak or reedOf Aristotle and his philosophye,Than robes riche, or fithele,157 or gay sautrye.158But al be that he was a philosophre,Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre;But al that he mighte of his frendes hente,159On bokes and on lerninge he it spenteAnd bisily gan for the soules preyeOf hem that yaf him wher-with to scoleye.160Of studie took he most cure and most hede.Noght o word spak he more than was nede,And that was seyd in forme and reverence,And short and quik, and ful of hy sentence.161Sowninge in162 moral vertu was his speche,And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.A SERGEANT OF THE LAWE, war163 and wys,That often hadde been at the parvys,164Ther was also, ful riche of excellence.Discreet he was, and of greet reverence:He seemed swich, his wordes weren so wyse,Iustice he was ful often in assyse,By patente, and by pleyn165 commissioun;For his science, and for his heigh renounOf fees and robes hadde he many oon.So greet a purchasour166 was nowher noon.Al was fee simple to him in effect,167His purchasing168 mighte nat been infect.169Nowher so bisy a man as he ther nas,And yet he semed bisier than he was.In termes hadde he caas and domes alle,170That from the tyme of king William were falle.Therto he oude endyte,171 and make a thing,Ther coude no wight pinche172 at his wryting;And every statut coude173 he pleyn by rote.He rood but hoomly in a medlee174 coteGirt with a ceint175 of silk, with barres smale;Of his array telle I no lenger tale.A FRANKELEYN was in his compaignye;Whyt was his berd as is the dayesye.Of his complexioun he was sangwyn.Wel loved he by the morwe176 a sop in wyn.To liven in delyt was evere his wone,177For he was Epicurus owne sone,That heeld opinioun that pleyn delytWas verraily felicitee parfyt.An householdere, and that a greet, was he;Seynt Iulian178 he was in his contree.His breed, his ale, was alwey after oon;179A bettre envyned180 man was no-wher noon.With-oute bake mete was nevere his hous,Of fish and flesh, and that so plentevous,It snewed181 in his hous of mete and drinke,Of alle deyntees that men coude thinke.After the sondry sesons of the yeer,So chaunged he his mete and his soper.Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in mewe,182And many a breem183 and many a luce183 in stewe.184Wo was his cook, but-if185 his sauce werePoynaunt and sharp, and redy al his gere.
Volume 40, pages 11–20 · See the scanned page on archive.org
This is the reading for October 3 in Fifteen Minutes a Day: The Reading Guide (1930 edition). There the assignment reads “Vol. 40, pp. 11–20.” Read it in the guide.