Chapter 4

12. Of Chaucer’s two sons by Philippa Roet, his only wife, the younger, Lewis, for whom he wrote the Treatise on the Astrolabe, died young. The elder, Thomas, married Maud, the second daughter and co-heiress of Sir John Burghersh, brother of the Bishop of Lincoln, the Chancellor and Treasurer of England. By this marriage Thomas Chaucer acquired great estates in Oxfordshire and elsewhere; and he figured prominently in the second rank of courtiers for many years. He was Chief Butler to Richard II.; under Henry IV. he was Constable of Wallingford Castle, Steward of the Honours of Wallingford and St Valery, and of the Chiltern Hundreds; and the queen of Henry IV. granted him the farm of several of her manors, a grant subsequently confirmed to him for life by the King, after the Queen’s death. He sat in Parliament repeatedly for Oxfordshire, was Speaker in 1414, and in the same year went to France as commissioner to negotiate the marriage of Henry V. with the Princess Katherine. He held, before he died in 1434, various other posts of trust and distinction; but he left no heirs-male. His only child, Alice Chaucer, married twice; first Sir John Philip; and afterwards the Duke of Suffolk — attainted and beheaded in 1450. She had three children by the Duke; and her eldest son married the Princess Elizabeth, sister of Edward IV. The eldest son of this marriage, created Earl of Lincoln, was declared by Richard III heir-apparent to the throne, in case the Prince of Wales should die without issue; but the death of Lincoln himself, at the battle of Stoke in 1487, destroyed all prospect that the poet’s descendants might succeed to the crown of England; and his family is now believed to be extinct.

13. “Geoffrey Chaucer, bard, and famous mother of poetry, is buried in this sacred ground.”

14. Railings.

15 Translation of the epitaph: This tomb was built for Geoffrey Chaucer, who in his time was the greatest poet of the English. If you ask the year of his death, behold the words beneath, which tell you all. Death gave him rest from his toil, 25th of October 1400. N Brigham bore the cost of these words in the name of the Muses. 1556.

16. See the Prologue to Chaucer’s Tale of Sir Thopas.

17. See the “Goodly Ballad of Chaucer,” seventh stanza.

18. See the opening of the Prologue to “The Legend of Good Women,” and the poet’s account of his habits in “The House of Fame”.

THE CANTERBURY TALES.

THE PROLOGUE.

WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every vein in such licour, Of which virtue engender’d is the flower; When Zephyrus eke with his swoote breath Inspired hath in every holt* and heath *grove, forest The tender croppes* and the younge sun *twigs, boughs Hath in the Ram <1> his halfe course y-run, And smalle fowles make melody, That sleepen all the night with open eye, (So pricketh them nature in their corages*); *hearts, inclinations Then longe folk to go on pilgrimages, And palmers <2> for to seeke strange strands, To *ferne hallows couth* in sundry lands; *distant saints known*<3> And specially, from every shire’s end Of Engleland, to Canterbury they wend, The holy blissful Martyr for to seek, That them hath holpen*, when that they were sick. *helped

Befell that, in that season on a day, In Southwark at the Tabard <4> as I lay, Ready to wenden on my pilgrimage To Canterbury with devout corage, At night was come into that hostelry Well nine and twenty in a company Of sundry folk, *by aventure y-fall *who had by chance fallen In fellowship*, and pilgrims were they all, into company.* <5> That toward Canterbury woulde ride. The chamber, and the stables were wide, And *well we weren eased at the best.* *we were well provided And shortly, when the sunne was to rest, with the best* So had I spoken with them every one, That I was of their fellowship anon, And made forword* early for to rise, *promise To take our way there as I you devise*. *describe, relate

But natheless, while I have time and space, Ere that I farther in this tale pace, Me thinketh it accordant to reason, To tell you alle 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 time that he first began To riden out, he loved chivalry, Truth and honour, freedom and courtesy. Full worthy was he in his Lorde’s war, And thereto had he ridden, no man farre*, *farther As well in Christendom as in Heatheness, And ever honour’d for his worthiness At Alisandre <6> he was when it was won. Full often time he had the board begun Above alle nations in Prusse.<7> In Lettowe had he reysed,* and in Russe, *journeyed No Christian man so oft of his degree. In Grenade at the siege eke had he be Of Algesir, and ridden in Belmarie. <8> At Leyes was he, and at Satalie, When they were won; and in the Greate Sea At many a noble army had he be. At mortal battles had he been fifteen, And foughten for our faith at Tramissene. In listes thries, and aye slain his foe. This ilke* worthy knight had been also *same <9> Some time with the lord of Palatie, Against another heathen in Turkie: And evermore *he had a sovereign price*. *He was held in very And though that he was worthy he was wise, high esteem.* And of his port as meek as is a maid. He never yet no villainy ne said In all his life, unto no manner wight. He was a very perfect gentle knight. But for to telle you of his array, His horse was good, but yet he was not gay. Of fustian he weared a gipon*, *short doublet Alle *besmotter’d with his habergeon,* *soiled by his coat of mail.* For he was late y-come from his voyage, And wente for to do his pilgrimage.

With him there was his son, a younge SQUIRE, A lover, and a lusty bacheler, With lockes crulle* as they were laid in press. *curled Of twenty year of age he was I guess. Of his stature he was of even length, And *wonderly deliver*, and great of strength. *wonderfully nimble* And he had been some time in chevachie*, *cavalry raids In Flanders, in Artois, and Picardie, And borne him well, *as of so little space*, *in such a short time* In hope to standen in his lady’s grace. Embroider’d was he, as it were a mead All full of freshe 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 long and wide. Well could he sit on horse, and faire ride. He coulde songes make, and well indite, Joust, and eke dance, and well pourtray and write. So hot he loved, that by nightertale* *night-time He slept no more than doth the nightingale. Courteous he was, lowly, and serviceable, And carv’d before his father at the table.<10>

A YEOMAN had he, and servants no mo’ At that time, for *him list ride so* *it pleased him so to ride* And he was clad in coat and hood of green. A sheaf of peacock arrows<11> 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-head <12> had he, with a brown visiage: Of wood-craft coud* he well all the usage: *knew Upon his arm he bare a gay bracer*, *small shield And by his side a sword and a buckler, And on that other side a gay daggere, Harnessed well, and sharp as point of spear: A Christopher on his breast of silver sheen. An horn he bare, the baldric was of green: A forester was he soothly* as I guess. *certainly

There was also a Nun, a PRIORESS, That of her smiling was full simple and coy; Her greatest oathe was but by Saint Loy; And she was cleped* Madame Eglentine. *called Full well she sang the service divine, Entuned in her nose full seemly; And French she spake full fair and fetisly* *properly After the school of Stratford atte Bow, For French of Paris was to her unknow. At meate was she well y-taught withal; She let no morsel from her lippes fall, Nor wet her fingers in her sauce deep. Well could she carry a morsel, and well keep, That no droppe ne fell upon her breast. In courtesy was set full much her lest*. *pleasure Her over-lippe wiped she so clean, That in her cup there was no farthing* seen *speck Of grease, when she drunken had her draught; Full seemely after her meat she raught*: *reached out her hand And *sickerly she was of great disport*, *surely she was of a lively And full pleasant, and amiable of port, disposition* And *pained her to counterfeite cheer *took pains to assume Of court,* and be estately of mannere, a courtly disposition* And to be holden digne* of reverence. *worthy But for to speaken of her conscience, She was so charitable and so pitous,* *full of pity She woulde weep if that she saw a mouse Caught in a trap, if it were dead or bled. Of smalle houndes had she, that she fed With roasted flesh, and milk, and *wastel bread.* *finest white bread* But sore she wept if one of them were dead, Or if men smote it with a yarde* smart: *staff And all was conscience and tender heart. Full seemly her wimple y-pinched was; Her nose tretis;* her eyen gray as glass;<13> *well-formed Her mouth full small, and thereto soft and red; But sickerly she had a fair forehead. It was almost a spanne broad I trow; For *hardily she was not undergrow*. *certainly she was not small* Full fetis* was her cloak, as I was ware. *neat Of small coral about her arm she bare A pair of beades, gauded all with green; And thereon hung a brooch of gold full sheen, On which was first y-written a crown’d A, And after, *Amor vincit omnia.* *love conquers all* Another Nun also with her had she, [That was her chapelleine, and PRIESTES three.]

A MONK there was, a fair *for the mast’ry*, *above all others*<14> An out-rider, that loved venery*; *hunting A manly man, to be an abbot able. Full many a dainty horse had he in stable: And when he rode, men might his bridle hear Jingeling <15> in a whistling wind as clear, And eke as loud, as doth the chapel bell, There as this lord was keeper of the cell. The rule of Saint Maur and of Saint Benet, <16> Because that it was old and somedeal strait This ilke* monk let olde thinges pace, *same And held after the newe world the trace. He *gave not of the text a pulled hen,* *he cared nothing That saith, that hunters be not holy men: for the text* Ne that a monk, when he is cloisterless; Is like to a fish that is waterless; This is to say, a monk out of his cloister. This ilke text held he not worth an oyster; And I say his opinion was good. Why should he study, and make himselfe wood* *mad <17> Upon a book in cloister always pore, Or swinken* with his handes, and labour, *toil As Austin bid? how shall the world be served? Let Austin have his swink to him reserved. Therefore he was a prickasour* aright: *hard rider Greyhounds he had as swift as fowl of flight; Of pricking* and of hunting for the hare *riding Was all his lust,* for no cost would he spare. *pleasure I saw his sleeves *purfil’d at the hand *worked at the end with a With gris,* and that the finest of the land. fur called “gris”* And for to fasten his hood under his chin, He had of gold y-wrought a curious pin; A love-knot in the greater end there was. His head was bald, and shone as any glass, And eke his face, as it had been anoint; He was a lord full fat and in good point; His eyen steep,* and rolling in his head, *deep-set That steamed as a furnace of a lead. His bootes supple, his horse in great estate, Now certainly he was a fair prelate; He was not pale as a forpined* ghost; *wasted A fat swan lov’d he best of any roast. His palfrey was as brown as is a berry.

A FRIAR there was, a wanton and a merry, A limitour <18>, a full solemne man. In all the orders four is none that can* *knows So much of dalliance and fair language. He had y-made full many a marriage Of younge women, at his owen cost. Unto his order he was a noble post; Full well belov’d, and familiar was he With franklins *over all* in his country, *everywhere* And eke with worthy women of the town: For he had power of confession, As said himselfe, more than a curate, For of his order he was licentiate. Full sweetely heard he confession, And pleasant was his absolution. He was an easy man to give penance, *There as he wist to have a good pittance:* *where he know he would For unto a poor order for to give get good payment* Is signe that a man is well y-shrive. For if he gave, he *durste make avant*, *dared to boast* He wiste* that the man was repentant. *knew For many a man so hard is of his heart, He may not weep although him sore smart. Therefore instead of weeping and prayeres, Men must give silver to the poore freres. His tippet was aye farsed* full of knives *stuffed And pinnes, for to give to faire wives; And certainly he had a merry note: Well could he sing and playen *on a rote*; *from memory* Of yeddings* he bare utterly the prize. *songs His neck was white as is the fleur-de-lis. Thereto he strong was as a champion, And knew well the taverns in every town. And every hosteler and gay tapstere, Better than a lazar* or a beggere, *leper For unto such a worthy man as he Accordeth not, as by his faculty, To have with such lazars acquaintance. It is not honest, it may not advance, As for to deale with no such pouraille*, *offal, refuse But all with rich, and sellers of vitaille*. *victuals And *ov’r all there as* profit should arise, *in every place where& Courteous he was, and lowly of service; There n’as no man nowhere so virtuous. He was the beste beggar in all his house: And gave a certain farme for the grant, <19> None of his bretheren came in his haunt. For though a widow hadde but one shoe, So pleasant was his In Principio,<20> Yet would he have a farthing ere he went; His purchase was well better than his rent. And rage he could and play as any whelp, In lovedays <21>; there could he muchel* help. *greatly For there was he not like a cloisterer, With threadbare cope as is a poor scholer; But he was like a master or a pope. Of double worsted was his semicope*, *short cloak That rounded was as a bell out of press. Somewhat he lisped for his wantonness, To make his English sweet upon his tongue; And in his harping, when that he had sung, His eyen* twinkled in his head aright, *eyes As do the starres in a frosty night. This worthy limitour <18> was call’d Huberd.

A MERCHANT was there with a forked beard, In motley, and high on his horse he sat, Upon his head a Flandrish beaver hat. His bootes clasped fair and fetisly*. *neatly His reasons aye spake he full solemnly, Sounding alway th’ increase of his winning. He would the sea were kept <22> for any thing Betwixte Middleburg and Orewell<23> Well could he in exchange shieldes* sell *crown coins <24> This worthy man full well his wit beset*; *employed There wiste* no wight** that he was in debt, *knew **man So *estately was he of governance* *so well he managed* With his bargains, and with his chevisance*. *business contract For sooth he was a worthy man withal, But sooth to say, I n’ot* how men him call. *know not

A CLERK there was of Oxenford* also, *Oxford That unto logic hadde long y-go*. *devoted himself As leane was his horse as is a rake, And he was not right fat, I undertake; But looked hollow*, and thereto soberly**. *thin; **poorly Full threadbare was his *overest courtepy*, *uppermost short cloak* For he had gotten him yet no benefice, Ne was not worldly, to have an office. For him was lever* have at his bed’s head *rather Twenty bookes, clothed in black or red, Of Aristotle, and his philosophy, Than robes rich, or fiddle, or psalt’ry. But all be that he was a philosopher, Yet hadde he but little gold in coffer, But all that he might of his friendes hent*, *obtain On bookes and on learning he it spent, And busily gan for the soules pray Of them that gave him <25> wherewith to scholay* *study Of study took he moste care and heed. Not one word spake he more than was need; And that was said in form and reverence, And short and quick, and full of high sentence. Sounding in moral virtue was his speech, And gladly would he learn, and gladly teach.

A SERGEANT OF THE LAW, wary and wise, That often had y-been at the Parvis, <26> There was also, full rich of excellence. Discreet he was, and of great reverence: He seemed such, his wordes were so wise, Justice he was full often in assize, By patent, and by plein* commission; *full For his science, and for his high renown, Of fees and robes had he many one. So great a purchaser was nowhere none. All was fee simple to him, in effect His purchasing might not be in suspect* *suspicion Nowhere so busy a man as he there was And yet he seemed busier than he was In termes had he case’ and doomes* all *judgements That from the time of King Will. were fall. Thereto he could indite, and make a thing There coulde no wight *pinch at* his writing. *find fault with* And every statute coud* he plain by rote *knew He rode but homely in a medley* coat, *multicoloured Girt with a seint* of silk, with barres small; *sash Of his array tell I no longer tale.

A FRANKELIN* was in this company; *Rich landowner White was his beard, as is the daisy. Of his complexion he was sanguine. Well lov’d he in the morn a sop in wine. To liven in delight was ever his won*, *wont For he was Epicurus’ owen son, That held opinion, that plein* delight *full Was verily felicity perfite. An householder, and that a great, was he; Saint Julian<27> he was in his country. His bread, his ale, was alway *after one*; *pressed on one* A better envined* man was nowhere none; *stored with wine Withoute bake-meat never was his house, Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous, It snowed in his house of meat and drink, Of alle dainties that men coulde think. After the sundry seasons of the year, So changed he his meat and his soupere. Full many a fat partridge had he in mew*, *cage <28> And many a bream, and many a luce* in stew**<29> *pike **fish-pond Woe was his cook, *but if* his sauce were *unless* Poignant and sharp, and ready all his gear. His table dormant* in his hall alway *fixed Stood ready cover’d all the longe day. At sessions there was he lord and sire. Full often time he was *knight of the shire* *Member of Parliament* An anlace*, and a gipciere** all of silk, *dagger **purse Hung at his girdle, white as morning milk. A sheriff had he been, and a countour<30> Was nowhere such a worthy vavasour<31>.

An HABERDASHER, and a CARPENTER, A WEBBE*, a DYER, and a TAPISER**, *weaver **tapestry-maker Were with us eke, cloth’d in one livery, Of a solemn and great fraternity. Full fresh and new their gear y-picked* was. *spruce Their knives were y-chaped* not with brass, *mounted But all with silver wrought full clean and well, Their girdles and their pouches *every deal*. *in every part* Well seemed each of them a fair burgess, To sitten in a guild-hall, on the dais. <32> Evereach, for the wisdom that he can*, *knew Was shapely* for to be an alderman. *fitted For chattels hadde they enough and rent, And eke their wives would it well assent: And elles certain they had been to blame. It is full fair to be y-clep’d madame, And for to go to vigils all before, And have a mantle royally y-bore.<33>

A COOK they hadde with them for the nones*, *occasion To boil the chickens and the marrow bones, And powder merchant tart and galingale. Well could he know a draught of London ale. He could roast, and stew, and broil, and fry, Make mortrewes, and well bake a pie. But great harm was it, as it thoughte me, That, on his shin a mormal* hadde he. *ulcer For blanc manger, that made he with the best <34>

A SHIPMAN was there, *wonned far by West*: *who dwelt far For ought I wot, be was of Dartemouth. to the West* He rode upon a rouncy*, as he couth, *hack All in a gown of falding* to the knee. *coarse cloth A dagger hanging by a lace had he About his neck under his arm adown; The hot summer had made his hue all brown; And certainly he was a good fellaw. Full many a draught of wine he had y-draw From Bourdeaux-ward, while that the chapmen sleep; Of nice conscience took he no keep. If that he fought, and had the higher hand, *By water he sent them home to every land.* *he drowned his But of his craft to reckon well his tides, prisoners* His streames and his strandes him besides, His herberow*, his moon, and lodemanage**, *harbourage There was none such, from Hull unto Carthage **pilotage<35> Hardy he was, and wise, I undertake: With many a tempest had his beard been shake. He knew well all the havens, as they were, From Scotland to the Cape of Finisterre, And every creek in Bretagne and in Spain: His barge y-cleped was the Magdelain.