The
Canterbury Tales: General Prologue
Here bygynneth the Book of the tales of Caunterbury
Whan that Aprille with his
shouressoote,
The droghte of March hath
perced to the roote,
And bathed every
veyne in swichlicóur
Of which vertúengendred
is the flour;
WhanZephirus eek with his
swete breeth
Inspired hath in
every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes,
and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours
y-ronne,
And smale fowelesmakenmelodye,
That slepen al the nyght
with open ye,
So priketh hem Natúre in
hircorages,
Thannelongen folk to goon
on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to
sekenstraunge strondes,
To ferne halwes,
kowthe in sondrylondes;
And specially, from every
shires ende
Of Engelond, to
Caunterbury they wende,
The hoolyblisfulmartir for
to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan
that they were seeke.
Bifil that in that seson on
a day,
In Southwerk at the Tabard
as I lay,
Redy to
wenden on my pilgrymage
To Caunterbury with ful
devout corage,
At nyght were come into
that hostelrye
Welnyne and twenty in a
compaignye
Of sondry folk, by áventure
y-falle
In felaweshipe, and
pilgrimes were they alle,
That toward
Caunterburywoldenryde.
The chambres and the
stables werenwyde,
And wel we werenesedatte beste.
And shortly, whan the sonne was
to reste,
So hadde I spoken with hem
everychon,
That I was of
hirfelaweshipe anon,
And made forward
erly for to ryse,
To take ourewey, ther as I
yow devyse.