But first I pray yow, of your curteisye,
That ye n‘arette it nat my vileinye,
Thogh that I pleynly speke in this matere,
To telle yow hir wordes and his chere;
Ne thogh I speke hir wordes properly.
For this ye knowen al-so wel as I,
Who-so shal telle a tale after a man,
He moot reherce, as ny as ever he can,
Everich a word, if it be in his charge,
Al speke he never so rudeliche and large;
Or elles he moot telle his tale untrewe,
Or feyne thing, or finde wordes newe.
Upon the sea, till Jesus Christ of him took hold.
He had a cross of metal, full of gems,
And in a glass jar he had pig’s bones.
But with these relics, when he found
A poor parson dwelling in the country
In one day he made himself more money
Than that parson got in two months.
And thus, with feigned flattery and tricks
He made the parson and the people his fools.
But truth to tell, at last,
He was in church a noble preacher.
Well could he read a devotional lesson or story,
But best of all he sang an offertory;
For well he knew, when that song was sung,
He must preach, and file smooth his tongue
To win silver, as he full well could—
Therefore he sang both merrily and loud.

Now have I told you truly, in brief,
The calling, the appearance, the number and the reason
Why assembled was this company
In Southwark, at this good hostelry,
By name of the Tabard, nearby the Bell.42
But now is the time for me to tell
How we conducted ourselves that same night,
When we were in that hostelry settled;
And after will I tell of our journey,
And all the remainder of our pilgrimage.
But first I pray you, of your courtesy,
That you not take it as my bad manners
Even though I speak plainly in this matter,
To tell you their words and their behavior
Even though I speak their words verbatim.
For this you all know as well as I:
Whoso shall tell a tale heard from another man
He must repeat closely as he can
Every word, if it be in his charge,
However rough or rude,
Or else he must tell his tale untrue,
Or make it up, or find words new.
He may nat spare, al-thogh he were his brother;
He moot as wel seye o word as another.
Crist spake him-self ful brode in holy writ,
And wel ye woot, no vileinye is it.
Eek Plato seith, who-so that can him rede,
The wordes mote be cosin to the dede.
Also I prey yow to foryeve it me,
Al have I nat set folk in hir degree
Here in this tale, as that they sholde stonde;
My wit is short, ye may wel understonde.

Greet chere made our hoste us everichon,
And to the soper sette us anon;
And served us with vitaille at the beste.
Strong was the wyn, and wel to drinke us leste.
A semely man our hoste was with-alle
For to han been a marshal in an halle;
A large man he was with eyen stepe,
A fairer burgeys is ther noon in Chepe:
Bold of his speche, and wys, and wel y-taught,
And of manhod him lakkede right naught.
Eek therto he was right a mery man,
And after soper pleyen he bigan,
And spak of mirthe amonges othere thinges,
Whan that we hadde maad our rekeninges;
And seyde thus: “Now, lordinges, trewely,
Ye been to me right welcome hertely:
For by my trouthe, if that I shal nat lye,
I ne saugh this yeer so mery a companye
At ones in this herberwe as is now.
Fayn wolde I doon yow mirthe, wiste I how.
And of a mirthe I am right now bithoght,
To doon yow ese, and it shal coste noght.

Ye goon to Caunterbury; God yow spede,
The blisful martir quyte yow your mede.
And wel I woot, as ye goon by the weye,
Ye shapen yow to talen and to pleye;
For trewely, confort ne mirthe is noon
To ryde by the weye doumb as a stoon;
And therfore wol I maken yow disport,
He may not hold back, even to spare his brother,
He must say as well one word as another.
Christ himself spoke down-to-earth in Holy Writ,
And well you know, no vulgarity is in it.
And Plato says, who can him read,
The words must be cousin to the deed.43
Also I pray you to forgive me,
That I have not described the folk
Here in this tale, in order of their rank;
My wit is short, you may well understand.

Very welcome our Host made us everyone,
And to the supper he set us anon;
He served us the best of food.
Strong was the wine, and it pleased us to drink.
Perfect for his work was our host withal
For he’d presided over a noble’s great hall;
A large man he was with protruding eyes—
No better burgher was there in all Cheapside.
Bold of his speech, and wise, and well-taught,
And of manhood he lacked right nought.
And also he was truly a merry man,
And after supper to jest he began,
And spoke of mirth among many other things—
After we had paid our bills—
And said thus, “Now lords, truly,
You are to me right welcome, heartily.
For by my troth, I shall not lie,
I’ve not seen this year so merry a company
At one time in this inn as is now.
Happily would I offer some merriment, knew I how,
And of such I have just now thought
To give you pleasure, and it shall cost nought.

You go to Canterbury—God you speed;
And may the blissful martyr reward your deed.
And well I know, as you go your way,
That you make plans to share some tales;
For truly, pleasure or merriment is there none
To ride along as dumb as stone;
And therefore will I make you a game,
As I seyde erst, and doon you som confort.
And if yow lyketh alle, by oon assent,
Now for to stonden at my judgment,
And for to werken as I shal yow seye,
To-morwe, whan ye ryden by the weye,
Now, by my fader soule, that is deed,
But ye be merye, I wol yeve yow myn heed.