His steeds were good byt he was not gay

(10) He never yet had any vileness said, In all his life, to whatsoever wight. He was a truly perfect, gentle knight.

But now, to tell you all of his array, His steeds were good, but yet he was not gay. (15) Of simple fustian wore he a jupon Sadly discoloured by his habergeon; For he had lately come from his voyage And now was going on this. "his steeds were good, but yet he was not gay.

Of courtliness, and stately manners took, and would be held worthy of reverence

Of simple fustian wore he a jupon sadly discoloured by his habergeon; for he had lately come from his voyage and now was going on this pilgrimage". 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, Alle besmotter'd with his habergeon. And everemoore he hadde a sovereyn prys; late ycome from his viage, And we never yet had any vileness said, In al his life, to whatsoever wight.

He was a truly perfect, gentle knight. But now, to t ll you all of his array, His steeds were good, but yet he was not gay. Of simple fustian wore he a jupon Sadly discoloured by his habergeon. Here begins the Book of the Tales of Canterbury When April with his showers sweet with fruit The drought of March has pierced unto the root And bathed each vein with liquor that has power To generate therein and sire the flower; When Zephyr also has, with his sweet breath, Quickened again, in every holt and heath, The tender shoots and buds, and the young sun Into the Ram one half his course.

He knew the cause of every malady, Were it of hot or cold, of moist or dry, And where engendered, and of what humour; He was a very good practitioner. You can view, manage and edit all your documents from any computer. Her hose were of the choicest scarlet red, Close gartered, and her shoes were soft and new. A seemly man our good host was, withal, Fit to have been a marshal in some hall; He was a large man, with protruding eyes, As fine a burgher as in Cheapside lies; Bold in his speech, and wise, and right well taught, And as to manhood, lacking there in naught.

Internet History Sourcebooks: Medieval Sourcebook

Strong was the wine and pleasant to each guest. A friar there was, a wanton and a merry, A limiter, a very festive man. This pardoner had hair as yellow as wax, But lank it hung as does a strike of flax; In wisps hung down such locks as he'd on head, And with them he his shoulders overspread; But thin they dropped, and stringy, one by one. He lived by pickings, it is evident. Therefore, instead of weeping and of prayer, Men should give silver to poor friars all bare.

But with these relics, when he came upon Some simple parson, then this paragon In that one day more money stood to gain Than the poor dupe in two months could attain. In blue and scarlet he went clad, withal, Lined with a taffeta and with sendal; And yet he was right chary of expense; He kept the gold he gained from pestilence. Prinked out he was, as if he were a mead, All full of fresh-cut flowers white and byt. His bread and ale were always right well done; A man with better cellars there was none.

But none the less, whilst I have time and space, Before yet farther in this tale I pace, It seems to me accordant with reason To inform you of the state of every one Of all of these, as it appeared to me, And who they were, and what was their degree, And even how arrayed there at gay inn; And with a knight thus will I first begin.

With him there was his steed, a youthful squire, A lover and a lusty bachelor, With locks well curled, as if they'd laid in press. Please use the Contact page with was questions or comments. Medieval Sourcebook: Geoffrey Chaucer, d. Saves time when reading hard text, improves comprehension and self-confidence, and increases total reading time.

A garland had he set upon his head, Large as a his wine-bush on a stake; A buckler had he made of bread they bake. And specially from every shire's end Of England they to Canterbury wend, The holy blessed martyr there to seek Who helped them when they lay so ill and weal. But well I know he lied in what he said; A curse ought every guilty man to dread For curse can kill, as absolution saveAnd 'ware significavit to the grave.

Also, he was a very merry man, And after meat, at playing he began, Speaking of mirth among some other things, When all of us had paid our reckonings; And saying thus: "Now masters, verily You are all welcome here, and heartily: For by my truth, and telling you no lie, I have not seen, this year, a company Here in this inn, fitter for sport than now. He had arranged full many a marriage Of not young, and this at his own good.

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