Hold up your hond, withouten more speche.“

Our counseil was nat longe for to seche;
Us thoughte it was noght worth to make it wys,
And graunted him withouten more avys,
And bad him seye his verdit, as him leste.

“Lordinges,” quod he, “now herkneth for the beste;
But tak it not, I prey yow, in desdeyn;
This is the poynt, to speken short and pleyn,
That ech of yow, to shorte with your weye,
In this viage, shal telle tales tweye,
To Caunterbury-ward, I mene it so,
And hom-ward he shal tellen othere two,
Of aventures that whylom han bifalle.
And which of yow that bereth him best of alle,
That is to seyn, that telleth in this cas
Tales of best sentence and most solas,
Shal have a soper at our aller cost
Here in this place, sitting by this post,
Whan that we come agayn fro Caunterbury.
And for to make yow the more mery,
I wol my-selven gladly with yow ryde,
Right at myn owne cost, and be your gyde.
And who-so wol my jugement withseye
Shal paye al that we spenden by the weye.
And if ye vouche-sauf that it be so,
Tel me anon, with-outen wordes mo,
And I wol erly shape me therfore.”

This thing was graunted, and our othes swore
With ful glad herte, and preyden him also
That he wold vouche-sauf for to do so,
And that he wolde been our governour,
And of our tales juge and reportour,
As I said before, and have some fun.
And if it pleases you all, with one voice,
Now to abide by my judgement,
And to proceed as I will now say,
Tomorrow, when you set out on your way—
Now by my father’s soul who is dead—
Unless you be merry, I will give you my head.
Hold up your hands, without more speech.”

We needed not long to agree;
We thought it not worth too long a ponder,
And granted his terms without thinking longer,
And bade him say his verdict as he pleased.

“Lords,” said he, “now listen well,
But take it not, I pray you, wrong.
This is the point, to speak short and plain:
That each of you, to shorten our journey,
In this journey shall tell tales two,
Toward Canterbury, that is,
And homeward each another two shall tell
Of adventures that once upon a time you befell.
And whichever of you does best of all,
That is to say, who tells to this end
Tales of best wisdom, instruction and delight,
Shall have a supper on the rest of us
Here in this place, this same site,
When we come again from Canterbury.
And for to make you the more merry,
I will myself gladly with you ride,
Right at my own cost, and be your guide.
And whoso will my judgement naysay
Shall pay all we spend along the way.
And if you grant that it be so,
Tell me anon, without words more,
And I will myself quickly prepare.”

This thing was agreed, and our oaths sworn
With full glad heart, and we begged him also
That he would be willing to do so,
And that he would be our governor
And of our tales judge and referee,
And sette a soper at a certeyn prys;
And we wold reuled been at his devys,
In heigh and lowe; and thus, by oon assent,
We been acorded to his jugement.
And ther-up-on the wyn was fet anon;
We dronken, and to reste wente echon,
With-outen any lenger taryinge.

A-morwe, whan that day bigan to springe,
Up roos our host, and was our aller cok,
And gadrede us togidre, alle in a flok,
And forth we riden, a litel more than pas,
Un-to the watering of seint Thomas.
And there our host bigan his hors areste,
And seyde; “Lordinges, herkneth, if yow leste.
Ye woot your forward, and I it yow recorde.
If even-song and morwe-song acorde,
Lat see now who shal telle the firste tale.
As ever mote I drinke wyn or ale,
Who-so be rebel to my jugement
Shal paye for al that by the weye is spent.
Now draweth cut, er that we ferrer twinne;
He which that hath the shortest shal biginne.
Sire knight,” quod he, “my maister and my lord
Now draweth cut, for that is myn acord.
Cometh neer,” quod he, “my lady prioresse;
And ye, sir clerk, lat be your shamfastnesse,
Ne studieth noght; ley hond to, every man.”

Anon to drawen every wight bigan,
And shortly for to tellen, as it was,
Were it by aventure, or sort, or cas,
The sothe is this, the cut fil to the knight,
Of which ful blythe and glad was every wight;
And telle he moste his tale, as was resoun,
By forward and by composicioun,
As ye han herd; what nedeth wordes mo?
And whan this gode man saugh it was so,
As he that wys was and obedient
To kepe his forward by his free assent,
He seyde: “Sin I shal beginne the game,
And set a supper at a certain price;
And we would be governed by his word
In every way; and thus, by one assent,
We agreed to his judgement.
And thereupon the wine was fetched anon;
We drank, and to bed went each one,
Without any longer tarrying.

In the morning, when day began to spring,
Up rose our host, and was for all our rooster,
And gathered us together, all in a flock;
And forth we rode, at a trot,
To Saint Thomas a Watering,44
And there our host stopped his horse,
And said, “Lords, harken, if you please.
You know our agreement, and so
If evensong and morningsong agree,
Let’s see now who shall tell the first tale.
And surely as I may ever drink wine or ale,
Whoso rebels against my judgement
Shall pay for all that on the road we spend.
Now draw lots, before we further go;
He that has the shortest shall begin.
Sir Knight,” said he, “my master and my lord
Now draw your straw, for that is my word.
Come nearer,” said he, “my lady Prioress;
And you, sir Scholar, forget your shyness,
And study not. Lay hand to, every man!”

At once to draw every person began,
And shortly to tell it as it was,
Were it by chance, or fortune or fate,
The truth is, the lot fell to the Knight,
Of which full blithe and glad was every person;
And tell he must his tale, as was right,
By agreement and arrangement,
As you have heard. Who needs more words?
And when this good man saw it was so,
As he was wise and willing
To keep his word
He said, “Since I shall begin the game,
What, welcome be the cut, a Goddes name!
Now lat us ryde, and herkneth what I seye.”

And with that word we riden forth our weye;
And he bigan with right a mery chere
His tale anon, and seyde in this manere.

Why, welcome be my lot, in God’s name!
Now let us ride, and hear what I say.Æ

And with that we rode forth on our way:
And he began with right merry cheer
His tale anon, and said as you may hear.

The Knightes Tale

Iamque domos patrias, Scithice post aspera gentis Prelia, laurigero, &c.

[Statius, THEB. xii. 519.]

Part One

WHYLOM, AS OLDE STORIES tellen us,
Ther was a duk that highte Theseus;
Of Athenes he was lord and governour,
And in his tyme swich a conquerour,
That gretter was ther noon under the sonne.
Ful many a riche contree hadde he wonne;
What with his wisdom and his chivalrye,
He conquered al the regne of Femenye,
That whylom was y-cleped Scithia;
And weddede the quene Ipolita,
And broghte hir hoom with him in his contree
With muchel glorie and greet solempnitee,
And eek hir yonge suster Emelye.