The Canon's Yeoman's Tale
THE
PROLOGUE.
WHEN
ended
was
the
life
of
Saint
Cecile,
Ere
we
had
ridden
fully
five
mile,
At
Boughton-under-Blee
us
gan
o'ertake
A
man,
that
clothed
was
in
clothes
black,
And
underneath
he
wore
a
white
surplice.
His
hackenay,*
which
was
all
pomely-gris,**
*nag
**dapple-gray
So
sweated,
that
it
wonder
was
to
see;
It
seem'd
as
he
had
pricked*
miles
three.
*spurred
The
horse
eke
that
his
yeoman
rode
upon
So
sweated,
that
unnethes*
might
he
gon.**
*hardly
**go
About
the
peytrel
stood
the
foam
full
high;
He
was
of
foam,
as
*flecked
as
a
pie.*
*spotted
like
a
magpie*
A
maile
twyfold
on
his
crupper
lay;
It
seemed
that
he
carried
little
array;
All
light
for
summer
rode
this
worthy
man.
And
in
my
heart
to
wonder
I
began
What
that
he
was,
till
that
I
understood
How
that
his
cloak
was
sewed
to
his
hood;
For
which,
when
I
had
long
advised*
me,
*considered
I
deemed
him
some
Canon
for
to
be.
His
hat
hung
at
his
back
down
by
a
lace,*
*cord
For
he
had
ridden
more
than
trot
or
pace;
He
hadde
pricked
like
as
he
were
wood.*
*mad
A
clote-leaf*
he
had
laid
under
his
hood,
*
burdock-leaf
For
sweat,
and
for
to
keep
his
head
from
heat.
But
it
was
joye
for
to
see
him
sweat;
His
forehead
dropped
as
a
stillatory*
*still
Were
full
of
plantain
or
of
paritory.*
*wallflower
And
when
that
he
was
come,
he
gan
to
cry,
'God
save,'
quoth
he,
'this
jolly
company.
Fast
have
I
pricked,'
quoth
he,
'for
your
sake,
Because
that
I
would
you
overtake,
To
riden
in
this
merry
company.'
His
Yeoman
was
eke
full
of
courtesy,
And
saide,
'Sirs,
now
in
the
morning
tide
Out
of
your
hostelry
I
saw
you
ride,
And
warned
here
my
lord
and
sovereign,
Which
that
to
ride
with
you
is
full
fain,
For
his
disport;
he
loveth
dalliance.'
'Friend,
for
thy
warning
God
give
thee
good
chance,'*
*fortune
Said
oure
Host;
'certain
it
woulde
seem
Thy
lord
were
wise,
and
so
I
may
well
deem;
He
is
full
jocund
also,
dare
I
lay;
Can
he
aught
tell
a
merry
tale
or
tway,
With
which
he
gladden
may
this
company?'
'Who,
Sir?
my
lord?
Yea,
Sir,
withoute
lie,
He
can*
of
mirth
and
eke
of
jollity
*knows
*Not
but*
enough;
also,
Sir,
truste
me,
*not
less
than*
An*
ye
him
knew
all
so
well
as
do
I,
*if
Ye
would
wonder
how
well
and
craftily
He
coulde
work,
and
that
in
sundry
wise.
He
hath
take
on
him
many
a
great
emprise,*
*task,
undertaking
Which
were
full
hard
for
any
that
is
here
To
bring
about,
but*
they
of
him
it
lear.**
*unless
**learn
As
homely
as
he
rides
amonges
you,
If
ye
him
knew,
it
would
be
for
your
prow:*
*advantage
Ye
woulde
not
forego
his
acquaintance
For
muche
good,
I
dare
lay
in
balance
All
that
I
have
in
my
possession.
He
is
a
man
of
high
discretion.
I
warn
you
well,
he
is
a
passing*
man.'
*surpassing,
extraordinary
Well,'
quoth
our
Host,
'I
pray
thee
tell
me
than,
Is
he
a
clerk,*
or
no?
Tell
what
he
is.'
*scholar,
priest
'Nay,
he
is
greater
than
a
clerk,
y-wis,'*
*certainly
Saide
this
Yeoman;
'and,
in
wordes
few,
Host,
of
his
craft
somewhat
I
will
you
shew,
I
say,
my
lord
can*
such
a
subtlety
*knows
(But
all
his
craft
ye
may
not
weet*
of
me,
*learn
And
somewhat
help
I
yet
to
his
working),
That
all
the
ground
on
which
we
be
riding
Till
that
we
come
to
Canterbury
town,
He
could
all
cleane
turnen
up
so
down,
And
pave
it
all
of
silver
and
of
gold.'
And
when
this
Yeoman
had
this
tale
told
Unto
our
Host,
he
said;
'Ben'dicite!
This
thing
is
wonder
marvellous
to
me,
Since
that
thy
lord
is
of
so
high
prudence,
Because
of
which
men
should
him
reverence,
That
of
his
worship*
recketh
he
so
lite;**
*honour
**little
His
*overest
slop*
it
is
not
worth
a
mite
*upper
garment*
As
in
effect
to
him,
so
may
I
go;
It
is
all
baudy*
and
to-tore
also.
*slovenly
Why
is
thy
lord
so
sluttish,
I
thee
pray,
And
is
of
power
better
clothes
to
bey,*
*buy
If
that
his
deed
accordeth
with
thy
speech?
Telle
me
that,
and
that
I
thee
beseech.'
'Why?'
quoth
this
Yeoman,
'whereto
ask
ye
me?
God
help
me
so,
for
he
shall
never
the*
*thrive
(But
I
will
not
avowe*
that
I
say,
*admit
And
therefore
keep
it
secret,
I
you
pray):
He
is
too
wise,
in
faith,
as
I
believe.
Thing
that
is
overdone,
it
will
not
preve*
*stand
the
test
Aright,
as
clerkes
say;
it
is
a
vice;
Wherefore
in
that
I
hold
him
*lewd
and
nice.'*
*ignorant
and
foolish*
For
when
a
man
hath
over
great
a
wit,
Full
oft
him
happens
to
misusen
it;
So
doth
my
lord,
and
that
me
grieveth
sore.
God
it
amend;
I
can
say
now
no
more.'
'Thereof
*no
force,*
good
Yeoman,
'quoth
our
Host;
*no
matter*
'Since
of
the
conning*
of
thy
lord,
thou
know'st,
*knowledge
Tell
how
he
doth,
I
pray
thee
heartily,
Since
that
be
is
so
crafty
and
so
sly.*
*wise
Where
dwelle
ye,
if
it
to
telle
be?'
'In
the
suburbes
of
a
town,'
quoth
he,
'Lurking
in
hernes*
and
in
lanes
blind,
*corners
Where
as
these
robbers
and
these
thieves
by
kind*
*nature
Holde
their
privy
fearful
residence,
As
they
that
dare
not
show
their
presence,
So
fare
we,
if
I
shall
say
the
soothe.'*
*truth
'Yet,'
quoth
our
Hoste,
'let
me
talke
to
thee;
Why
art
thou
so
discolour'd
of
thy
face?'
'Peter!'
quoth
he,
'God
give
it
harde
grace,
I
am
so
us'd
the
hote
fire
to
blow,
That
it
hath
changed
my
colour,
I
trow;
I
am
not
wont
in
no
mirror
to
pry,
But
swinke*
sore,
and
learn
to
multiply.
*labour
We
blunder*
ever,
and
poren**
in
the
fire,
*toil
**peer
And,
for
all
that,
we
fail
of
our
desire
For
ever
we
lack
our
conclusion
To
muche
folk
we
do
illusion,
And
borrow
gold,
be
it
a
pound
or
two,
Or
ten
or
twelve,
or
many
summes
mo',
And
make
them
weenen,*
at
the
leaste
way,
*fancy
That
of
a
pounde
we
can
make
tway.
Yet
is
it
false;
and
aye
we
have
good
hope
It
for
to
do,
and
after
it
we
grope:*
*search,
strive
But
that
science
is
so
far
us
beforn,
That
we
may
not,
although
we
had
it
sworn,
It
overtake,
it
slides
away
so
fast;
It
will
us
make
beggars
at
the
last.'
While
this
Yeoman
was
thus
in
his
talking,
This
Canon
drew
him
near,
and
heard
all
thing
Which
this
Yeoman
spake,
for
suspicion
Of
menne's
speech
ever
had
this
Canon:
For
Cato
saith,
that
he
that
guilty
is,
Deemeth
all
things
be
spoken
of
him
y-wis;*
*surely
Because
of
that
he
gan
so
nigh
to
draw
To
his
Yeoman,
that
he
heard
all
his
saw;
And
thus
he
said
unto
his
Yeoman
tho*
*then
'Hold
thou
thy
peace,and
speak
no
wordes
mo':
For
if
thou
do,
thou
shalt
*it
dear
abie.*
*pay
dearly
for
it*
Thou
slanderest
me
here
in
this
company
And
eke
discoverest
that
thou
shouldest
hide.'
'Yea,'
quoth
our
Host,
'tell
on,
whatso
betide;
Of
all
his
threatening
reck
not
a
mite.'
'In
faith,'
quoth
he,
'no
more
do
I
but
lite.'*
*little
And
when
this
Canon
saw
it
would
not
be
But
his
Yeoman
would
tell
his
privity,*
*secrets
He
fled
away
for
very
sorrow
and
shame.
'Ah!'
quoth
the
Yeoman,
'here
shall
rise
a
game;*
*some
diversion
All
that
I
can
anon
I
will
you
tell,
Since
he
is
gone;
the
foule
fiend
him
quell!*
*destroy
For
ne'er
hereafter
will
I
with
him
meet,
For
penny
nor
for
pound,
I
you
behete.*
*promise
He
that
me
broughte
first
unto
that
game,
Ere
that
he
die,
sorrow
have
he
and
shame.
For
it
is
earnest*
to
me,
by
my
faith;
*a
serious
matter
That
feel
I
well,
what
so
any
man
saith;
And
yet
for
all
my
smart,
and
all
my
grief,
For
all
my
sorrow,
labour,
and
mischief,*
*trouble
I
coulde
never
leave
it
in
no
wise.
Now
would
to
God
my
witte
might
suffice
To
tellen
all
that
longeth
to
that
art!
But
natheless
yet
will
I
telle
part;
Since
that
my
lord
is
gone,
I
will
not
spare;
Such
thing
as
that
I
know,
I
will
declare.'
