Geoffrey Chaucer (/ˈtʃɔːsər/; c.

1343 – 25 October
1400), known as the Father of English literature, is widely
considered the greatest English poet of the Middle Ages and was
the first poet to be buried in Poet's Corner of Westminster Abbey.

While he achieved fame during his lifetime as an author,

philosopher, alchemist and astronomer, composing a scientific treatise on
the astrolabe for his ten year-old son Lewis, Chaucer also maintained an
active career in the civil service as a bureaucrat, courtier and diplomat.

Among his many works, which include The Book of the

Duchess, the House of Fame, the Legend of Good Women and
Troilus and Criseyde, he is best known today for The Canterbury
Tales. Chaucer is a crucial figure in developing the legitimacy of the
vernacular, Middle English, at a time when the dominant literary
languages in England were French and Latin.
 `Geoffrey Chaucer was born in London sometime
around 1343, though the precise date and location of his
birth remain unknown. His father and grandfather were both
London vintners; several previous generations had been
merchants in Ipswich. (His family name derives from the
French chausseur, meaning "shoemaker".)
John Chaucer married Agnes Copton, who, in 1349,
inherited properties including 24 shops in London from her
uncle, Hamo de Copton, who is described in a will dated 3 April
1354 and listed in the City Hustings Roll as "moneyer"; he was
said to be moneyer at the Tower of London. In the City
Hustings Roll 110, 5, Ric II, dated June 1380, Geoffrey Chaucer
refers to himself as me Galfridum Chaucer, filium Johannis
Chaucer, Vinetarii, Londonie' .
 While records concerning the lives of his
contemporary poets, William Langland and the Pearl Poet are
practically non-existent, since Chaucer was a public servant,
his official life is very well documented, with nearly five
hundred written items testifying to his career.

The first of the "Chaucer Life Records" appears in

1357, in the household accounts of Elizabeth de Burgh, the
Countess of Ulster, when he became the noblewoman's page
through his father's connections. She was married to Lionel,
Duke of Clarence, the second surviving son of the king, Edward
III, and the position brought the teenage Chaucer into the close
court circle, where he was to remain for the rest of his life.
 He also worked as a courtier, a diplomat, and a civil
servant, as well as working for the king, collecting and
inventorying scrap metal.
In 1359, in the early stages of the Hundred Years' War,
Edward III invaded France and Chaucer travelled with Lionel of
Antwerp, 1st Duke of Clarence, Elizabeth's husband, as part of the
English army. In 1360, he was captured during the siege of
Rheims. Edward paid £16 for his ransom,[4] a considerable sum,
and Chaucer was released.
Chaucer probably studied law in the Inner Temple (an
Inn of Court) at this time. He became a member of the royal court
of Edward III as a varlet de chambre, yeoman, or esquire on 20
June 1367, a position which could entail a wide variety of tasks.
His wife also received a pension for court employment. He
travelled abroad many times, at least some of them in his role as a
valet.
 In 1368, he may have attended the wedding of Lionel
of Antwerp to Violante Visconti, daughter of Galeazzo II
Visconti, in Milan. Two other literary stars of the era were in
attendance: Jean Froissart and Petrarch. Around this time,
Chaucer is believed to have written The Book of the Duchess in
honour of Blanche of Lancaster, the late wife of John of Gaunt,
who died in 1369.

A possible indication that his career as a writer was appreciated

came when Edward III granted Chaucer "a gallon of wine daily for
the rest of his life" for some unspecified task. This was an unusual
grant, but given on a day of celebration, St George's Day, 1374,
when artistic endeavours were traditionally rewarded, it is
assumed to have been another early poetic work.
 It is not known which, if any, of Chaucer's extant
works prompted the reward, but the suggestion of him as
poet to a king places him as a precursor to later poets
laureate. Chaucer continued to collect the liquid stipend until
Richard II came to power, after which it was converted to a
monetary grant on 18 April 1378.

Chaucer's first major work, The Book of the Duchess,

was an elegy for Blanche of Lancaster (who died in 1369). It is
possible that this work was commissioned by her husband John of
Gaunt, as he granted Chaucer a £10 annuity on 13 June 1374. This
would seem to place the writing of The Book of the Duchess
between the years 1369 and 1374. Two other early works by
Chaucer were Anelida and Arcite and The House of Fame.
 Chaucer wrote many of his major works in a prolific
period when he held the job of customs comptroller for London
(1374 to 1386). His Parlement of Foules, The Legend of Good
Women and Troilus and Criseyde all date from this time. Also it is
believed that he started work on The Canterbury Tales in the
early 1380s. Chaucer is best known as the writer of The
Canterbury Tales, which is a collection of stories told by fictional
pilgrims on the road to the cathedral at Canterbury; these tales
would help to shape English literature.
Chaucer's works are sometimes grouped into first a French
period, then an Italian period and finally an English period, with
Chaucer being influenced by those countries' literatures in turn.
Certainly Troilus and Criseyde is a middle period work with its reliance
on the forms of Italian poetry, little known in England at the time, but to
which Chaucer was probably exposed during his frequent trips abroad
on court business.
 One other significant work of Chaucer's is his
Treatise on the Astrolabe, possibly for his own son, that
describes the form and use of that instrument in detail and is
sometimes cited as the first example of technical writing in the
English language. Although much of the text may have come
from other sources, the treatise indicates that Chaucer was
versed in science in addition to his literary talents. Another
scientific work discovered in 1952, Equatorie of the Planetis,
has similar language and handwriting compared to some
considered to be Chaucer's and it continues many of the ideas
from the Astrolabe. Furthermore, it contains an example of early
European encryption.[17] The attribution of this work to
Chaucer is still uncertain.
 Chaucer is sometimes considered the source of
the English vernacular tradition. His achievement for the
language can be seen as part of a general historical trend
towards the creation of a vernacular literature, after the
example of Dante, in many parts of Europe. A parallel trend
in Chaucer's own lifetime was underway in Scotland
through the work of his slightly earlier contemporary, John
Barbour, and was likely to have been even more general, as
is evidenced by the example of the Pearl Poet in the north
of England.
 In the 16th and 17th centuries, Chaucer was
printed more than any other English author, and he was
the first author to have his works collected in
comprehensive single-volume editions in which a Chaucer
canon began to cohere. Some scholars contend that 16th-
century editions of Chaucer's Works set the precedent for
all other English authors in terms of presentation, prestige
and success in print. These editions certainly established
Chaucer's reputation, but they also began the complicated
process of reconstructing and frequently inventing
Chaucer's biography and the canonical list of works which
were attributed to him.
About Canterbury Tales

The Canterbury Tales is at once one of the most famous and most frustrating
works of literature ever written. Since its composition in late 1300s, critics have
continued to mine new riches from its complex ground, and started new arguments
about the text and its interpretation.
It is both one long narrative (of the pilgrims and their pilgrimage) and an
encyclopedia of shorter narratives; it is both one large drama, and a compilation of most
literary forms known to medieval literature: romance, fabliau, Breton lay, moral fable,
verse romance, beast fable, prayer to the Virgin… and so the list goes on.

No single literary genre dominates the Tales. The tales include romantic
adventures, fabliaux, saint's biographies, animal fables, religious allegories and even a
sermon, and range in tone from pious, moralistic tales to lewd and vulgar sexual farces.
About Canterbury Tales

No one knows for certain when Chaucer began to write the

Tales – the pilgrimage is usually dated 1387, but that date is subject to
much scholarly argument – but it is certain that Chaucer wrote some
parts of the Tales at different times, and went back and added Tales to
the melting pot.
Chaucer drew from a rich variety of literary sources to create
the Tales, though his principal debt is likely to Boccaccio’s Decameron,
in which ten nobles from Florence, to escape the plague, stay in a
country villa and amuse each other by each telling tales. Boccaccio likely
had a significant influence on Chaucer.
About Canterbury Tales

The Canterbury Tales (Middle English: Tales of Caunterbur) is

a collection of over 20 stories written in Middle English by Geoffrey
Chaucer at the end of the 14th century, during the time of the
Hundred Years' War. The tales (mostly written in verse, although some
are in prose) are presented as part of a story-telling contest by a group
of pilgrims as they travel together on a journey from Southwark to the
shrine of Saint Thomas Becket at Canterbury Cathedral. The prize
for this contest is a free meal at the Tabard Inn at Southwark on their
return.
About Canterbury Tales

One of the things that makes The Canterbury Tales so fun to

read is the great (and often grotesque) detail with which the narrator
describes each of the pilgrims.
Since The Canterbury Tales is a story about a storytelling competition, many of
the questions it asks are about stories: what makes for a good story? Why do we tell
stories? Why should we tell stories?
As the pilgrims tell their stories, though, they turn out to be talking not just
about fairytale people in far-off lands, but also about themselves and their society.
This leads to a lot of conflict in a group of pilgrims formed by members of that same
society, who often take offense at the versions of themselves they see portrayed in
the tales.
About Canterbury Tales

The Tales constantly reflect the conflict between

classes. For example, the division of the three estates; the
characters are all divided into three distinct classes, the classes
being “those who pray" (the clergy), “those who fight"
(the nobility), and “those who work" (the commoners and
peasantry).
1. Knight
2. Squire
3. Yeoman
4. Reeve
5. Summoner
6. Yeoman (#2)
1. Pardoner
2. Prioress
3. Monk
4. Friar
5. Nun’s Priest
6. Second Nun
7. Parson
1. Merchant
10. Tapycer
2. Clerk
11. Cook
3. Man of Law
12. Shipman
4. Franklin
13. Doctor of Medicine
5. A Haberdasher
14. Wife of Bath
6. Carpenter
15. Plowman
7. Weaver
16. Miller
8. Dyer
17. Manciple
9. Tapycer
The Knight’s Tale

Theseus, duke of Athens, imprisons Arcite and Palamon, two

knights from Thebes (another city in ancient Greece). From their prison,
the knights see and fall in love with Theseus’s sister-in-law, Emelye.
Through the intervention of a friend, Arcite is freed, but he is banished
from Athens. He returns in disguise and becomes a page in Emelye’s
chamber. Palamon escapes from prison, and the two meet and fight over
Emelye. Theseus apprehends them and arranges a tournament between
the two knights and their allies, with Emelye as the prize. Arcite wins, but
he is accidentally thrown from his horse and dies. Palamon then marries
Emelye.
The Miller’s Prologue and
Tale
He tells the story of an impoverished student named
Nicholas, who persuades his landlord’s sexy young wife,
Alisoun, to spend the night with him. He convinces his landlord,
a carpenter named John, that the second flood is coming, and
tricks him into spending the night in a tub hanging from the
ceiling of his barn. Absolon, a young parish clerk who is also in
love with Alisoun, appears outside the window of the room
where Nicholas and Alisoun lie together. When Absolon begs
Alisoun for a kiss, she sticks her rear end out the window in the
dark and lets him kiss it.
The Miller’s Prologue and
Tale

Absolon runs and gets a red-hot poker, returns to

the window, and asks for another kiss; when Nicholas
sticks his bottom out the window and farts, Absolon
brands him on the buttocks. Nicholas’s cries for water
make the carpenter think that the flood has come, so the
carpenter cuts the rope connecting his tub to the ceiling,
falls down, and breaks his arm.
The Reeve’s Prologue and
Tale
The Reeve tells the story of two students, John and Alayn, who
go to the mill to watch the miller grind their corn, so that he won’t have a
chance to steal any. But the miller unties their horse, and while they
chase it, he steals some of the flour he has just ground for them. By the
time the students catch the horse, it is dark, so they spend the night in the
miller’s house. That night, Alayn seduces the miller’s daughter, and John
seduces his wife. When the miller wakes up and finds out what has
happened, he tries to beat the students. His wife, thinking that her
husband is actually one of the students, hits the miller over the head with
a staff. The students take back their stolen goods and leave.
The Cook’s Prologue and
Tale

The Cook particularly enjoys the Reeve’s Tale, and offers

to tell another funny tale. The tale concerns an apprentice
named Perkyn who drinks and dances so much that he is called
“Perkyn Reveler.” Finally, Perkyn’s master decides that he would
rather his apprentice leave to revel than stay home and corrupt
the other servants. Perkyn arranges to stay with a friend who
loves drinking and gambling, and who has a wife who is a
prostitute. The tale breaks off, unfinished, after fifty-eight lines.
The Man of Law’s Introduction, Prologue, Tale, and
Epilogue

The Host reminds his fellow pilgrims to waste no time, because

lost time cannot be regained. He asks the Man of Law to tell the next tale.
The Man of Law agrees, apologizing that he cannot tell any suitable tale
that Chaucer has not already told—Chaucer may be unskilled as a poet,
says the Man of Law, but he has told more stories of lovers than Ovid,
and he doesn’t print tales of incest as John Gower does (Gower was a
contemporary of Chaucer). In the Prologue to his tale, the Man of Law
laments the miseries of poverty. He then remarks how fortunate
merchants are, and says that his tale is one told to him by a merchant.
The Man of Law’s Introduction, Prologue, Tale, and
Epilogue
In the tale, the Muslim sultan of Syria converts his entire
sultanate (including himself) to Christianity in order to persuade the
emperor of Rome to give him his daughter, Custance, in marriage. The
sultan’s mother and her attendants remain secretly faithful to Islam. The
mother tells her son she wishes to hold a banquet for him and all the
Christians. At the banquet, she massacres her son and all the Christians
except for Custance, whom she sets adrift in a rudderless ship. After years
of floating, Custance runs ashore in Northumberland, where a constable
and his wife, Hermengyld, offer her shelter. She converts them to
Christianity.
The Man of Law’s Introduction, Prologue, Tale, and
Epilogue
One night, Satan makes a young knight sneak into Hermengyld’s
chamber and murder Hermengyld. He places the bloody knife next to
Custance, who sleeps in the same chamber. When the constable returns
home, accompanied by Alla, the king of Northumberland, he finds his
slain wife. He tells Alla the story of how Custance was found, and Alla
begins to pity the girl. He decides to look more deeply into the murder.
Just as the knight who murdered Hermengyld is swearing that Custance
is the true murderer, he is struck down and his eyes burst out of his face,
proving his guilt to Alla and the crowd. The knight is executed, Alla and
many others convert to Christianity, and Custance and Alla marry.
The Man of Law’s Introduction, Prologue, Tale, and
Epilogue
After many adventures at sea, including an attempted rape,
Custance ends up back in Rome, where she reunites with Alla, who has
made a pilgrimage there to atone for killing his mother. She also reunites
with her father, the emperor. Alla and Custance return to England, but
Alla dies after a year, so Custance returns, once more, to Rome. Mauricius
becomes the next Roman emperor.

Following the Man of Law’s Tale, the Host asks the Parson to tell
the next tale, but the Parson reproaches him for swearing, and they fall to
bickering.
The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and
Tale
In her tale, a young knight of King Arthur’s court rapes a maiden; to
atone for his crime, Arthur’s queen sends him on a quest to discover what
women want most. An ugly old woman promises the knight that she will tell
him the secret if he promises to do whatever she wants for saving his life. He
agrees, and she tells him women want control of their husbands and their own
lives. They go together to Arthur’s queen, and the old woman’s answer turns
out to be correct. The old woman then tells the knight that he must marry her.
When the knight confesses later that he is repulsed by her appearance, she
gives him a choice: she can either be ugly and faithful, or beautiful and
unfaithful. The knight tells her to make the choice herself, and she rewards him
for giving her control of the marriage by rendering herself both beautiful and
faithful.
The Friar’s Prologue and Tale

The Friar tells of an archdeacon who carries out the law without
mercy, especially to lechers. The archdeacon has a summoner who has a
network of spies working for him, to let him know who has been lecherous.
The summoner extorts money from those he’s sent to summon, charging them
more money than he should for penance. He tries to serve a summons on a
yeoman who is actually a devil in disguise. After comparing notes on their
treachery and extortion, the devil vanishes, but when the summoner tries to
prosecute an old wealthy widow unfairly, the widow cries out that the
summoner should be taken to hell. The devil follows the woman’s instructions
and drags the summoner off to hell.
The Summoner’s Prologue and Tale

In the Summoner’s Tale, a friar begs for money from a

dying man named Thomas and his wife, who have recently lost
their child. The friar shamelessly exploits the couple’s
misfortunes to extract money from them, so Thomas tells the
friar that he is sitting on something that he will bequeath to the
friars. The friar reaches for his bequest, and Thomas lets out an
enormous fart. The friar complains to the lord of the manor,
whose squire promises to divide the fart evenly among all the
friars.
The Clerk’s Prologue and Tale

Griselde is a hardworking peasant who marries

into the aristocracy. Her husband tests her fortitude in
several ways, including pretending to kill her children
and divorcing her. He punishes her one final time by
forcing her to prepare for his wedding to a new wife. She
does all this dutifully, her husband tells her that she has
always been and will always be his wife (the divorce was
a fraud), and they live happily ever after.
The Merchant’s Prologue, Tale, and Epilogue

Against the advice of his friends, an old knight named January

marries May, a beautiful young woman. She is less than impressed by
his enthusiastic sexual efforts, and conspires to cheat on him with his
squire, Damien. When blind January takes May into his garden to
copulate with her, she tells him she wants to eat a pear, and he helps
her up into the pear tree, where she has sex with Damien. Pluto, the
king of the faeries, restores January’s sight, but May, caught in the act,
assures him that he must still be blind. The Host prays to God to keep
him from marrying a wife like the one the Merchant describes.
The Squire’s Introduction and Tale

King Cambyuskan of the Mongol Empire is visited on his

birthday by a knight bearing gifts from the king of Arabia and India.
He gives Cambyuskan and his daughter Canacee a magic brass
horse, a magic mirror, a magic ring that gives Canacee the ability to
understand the language of birds, and a sword with the power to
cure any wound it creates. She rescues a dying female falcon that
narrates how her consort abandoned her for the love of another. The
Squire’s Tale is either unfinished by Chaucer or is meant to be
interrupted by the Franklin.
The Franklin’s Prologue and Tale

Dorigen, the heroine, awaits the return of her husband,

Arveragus, who has gone to England to win honor in feats of arms. She
worries that the ship bringing her husband home will wreck itself on the
coastal rocks, and she promises Aurelius, a young man who falls in love
with her, that she will give her body to him if he clears the rocks from the
coast. Aurelius hires a student learned in magic to create the illusion that
the rocks have disappeared. Arveragus returns home and tells his wife
that she must keep her promise to Aurelius. Aurelius is so impressed by
Arveragus’s honorable act that he generously absolves her of the
promise, and the magician, in turn, generously absolves Aurelius of the
money he owes.
The Physician’s Tale

Appius the judge lusts after Virginia, the beautiful

daughter of Virginius. Appius persuades a churl named Claudius
to declare her his slave, stolen from him by Virginius. Appius
declares that Virginius must hand over his daughter to Claudius.
Virginius tells his daughter that she must die rather than suffer
dishonor, and she virtuously consents to her father’s cutting her
head off. Appius sentences Virginius to death, but the Roman
people, aware of Appius’s hijinks, throw him into prison, where
he kills himself.
The Pardoner’s Introduction, Prologue, and Tale

His tale describes three riotous youths who go looking for Death,
thinking that they can kill him. An old man tells them that they will find
Death under a tree. Instead, they find eight bushels of gold, which they
plot to sneak into town under cover of darkness. The youngest goes into
town to fetch food and drink, but brings back poison, hoping to have the
gold all to himself. His companions kill him to enrich their own shares,
then drink the poison and die under the tree. His tale complete, the
Pardoner offers to sell the pilgrims pardons, and singles out the Host to
come kiss his relics. The Host infuriates the Pardoner by accusing him of
fraud, but the Knight persuades the two to kiss and bury their differences.
The Shipman’s Tale

The Shipman’s Tale features a monk who tricks a

merchant’s wife into having sex with him by borrowing money
from the merchant, then giving it to the wife so she can repay
her own debt to her husband, in exchange for sexual favors.
When the monk sees the merchant next, he tells him that he
returned the merchant’s money to his wife. The wife realizes she
has been duped, but she boldly tells her husband to forgive her
debt: she will repay it in bed. The Host praises the Shipman’s
story, and asks the Prioress for a tale.
The Prioress’s Prologue and Tale

In an Asian city, a Christian school is located at the edge of a

Jewish ghetto. An angelic seven-year-old boy, a widow’s son, attends
the school. He is a devout Christian, and loves to sing Alma
Redemptoris (Gracious Mother of the Redeemer). Singing the song
on his way through the ghetto, some Jews hire a murderer to slit his
throat and throw him into a latrine. The Jews refuse to tell the widow
where her son is, but he miraculously begins to sing Alma
Redemptoris, so the Christian people recover his body, and the
magistrate orders the murdering Jews to be drawn apart by wild
horses and then hanged.
The Prologue and Tale of Sir
Thopas

Sir Thopas rides about looking for an elf-queen to marry

until he is confronted by a giant. The narrator’s doggerel
continues in this vein until the Host can bear no more and
interrupts him. Chaucer asks him why he can’t tell his tale, since
it is the best he knows, and the Host explains that his rhyme isn’t
worth a turd. He encourages Chaucer to tell a prose tale.
 The Tale of
Melibee

Melibee’s house is raided by his foes, who beat his wife,

Prudence, and severely wound his daughter, Sophie, in her feet,
hands, ears, nose, and mouth. Prudence advises him not to
rashly pursue vengeance on his enemies, and he follows her
advice, putting his foes’ punishment in her hands. She forgives
them for the outrages done to her, in a model of Christian
forbearance and forgiveness.
The Monk’s Prologue and Tale

The Host wishes that his own wife were as patient as

Melibee’s, and calls upon the Monk to tell the next tale. First he
teases the Monk, pointing out that the Monk is clearly no poor
cloisterer. The Monk takes it all in stride and tells a series of
tragic falls, in which noble figures are brought low: Lucifer,
Adam, Sampson, Hercules, Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar,
Zenobia, Pedro of Castile, and down through the ages.
 The Nun’s Priest’s Prologue, Tale, and
Epilogue

The Nun’s Priest tells of Chanticleer the Rooster, who is

carried off by a flattering fox who tricks him into closing his eyes
and displaying his crowing abilities. Chanticleer turns the tables
on the fox by persuading him to open his mouth and brag to the
barnyard about his feat, upon which Chanticleer falls out of the
fox’s mouth and escapes. The Host praises the Nun’s Priest’s
Tale, adding that if the Nun’s Priest were not in holy orders, he
would be as sexually potent as Chanticleer.
The Second Nun’s Prologue and Tale

In her Prologue, the Second Nun explains that she will tell a
saint’s life, that of Saint Cecilia, for this saint set an excellent example
through her good works and wise teachings. She focuses particularly
on the story of Saint Cecilia’s martyrdom. Before Cecilia’s new
husband, Valerian, can take her virginity, she sends him on a
pilgrimage to Pope Urban, who converts him to Christianity. An
angel visits Valerian, who asks that his brother Tiburce be granted
the grace of Christian conversion as well. All three—Cecilia, Tiburce,
and Valerian—are put to death by the Romans.
The Canon’s Yeoman’s Prologue and Tale

The Yeoman tells a tale of how a canon defrauded a

priest by creating the illusion of alchemy using sleight of
hand.
The Manciple’s Prologue and Tale

The Manciple relates the legend of a white crow, taken

from the Roman poet Ovid’s Metamorphoses and one of the
tales in The Arabian Nights. In it, Phoebus’s talking white crow
informs him that his wife is cheating on him. Phoebus kills the
wife, pulls out the crow’s white feathers, and curses it with
blackness.
The Parson’s Prologue and Tale

As the company enters a village in the late afternoon, the

Host calls upon the Parson to give them a fable. Refusing to tell a
fictional story because it would go against the rule set by St. Paul,
the Parson delivers a lengthy treatise on the Seven Deadly Sins,
instead.
Chaucer’s Retraction

Chaucer appeals to readers to credit Jesus Christ as the

inspiration for anything in his book that they like, and to
attribute what they don’t like to his own ignorance and lack of
ability. He retracts and prays for forgiveness for all of his works
dealing with secular and pagan subjects, asking only to be
remembered for what he has written of saints’ lives and
homilies.
 General Prologue

“When April comes with his sweet, fragrant showers, which pierce the dry ground of
March, and bathe every root of every plant in sweet liquid, then people desire to go on
pilgrimages." Thus begins the famous opening to The Canterbury Tales. The narrator (a
constructed version of Chaucer himself) is first discovered staying at the Tabard Inn in
Southwark (in London), when a company of twenty-nine people descend on the inn, preparing
to go on a pilgrimage to Canterbury.

The narrator gives a descriptive account of twenty-seven of these pilgrims, including a

Knight, Squire, Yeoman, Prioress, Monk, Friar, Merchant, Clerk, Man of Law, Franklin,
Haberdasher, Carpenter, Weaver, Dyer, Tapestry-Weaver, Cook, Shipman, Physician, Wife,
Parson, Plowman, Miller, Manciple, Reeve, Summoner, Pardoner, and Host.
 General Prologue

The Host, whose name, we find out in the Prologue to the Cook’s
Tale, is Harry Bailey, suggests that the group ride together and entertain
one another with stories. He decides that each pilgrim will tell two stories
on the way to Canterbury and two on the way back. Whomever he judges
to be the best storyteller will receive a meal at Bailey’s tavern, courtesy of
the other pilgrims. The pilgrims draw lots and determine that the Knight
will tell the first tale.

Before the narrator goes any further in the tale, he describes the
circumstances and the social rank of each pilgrim. He describes each one in
turn, starting with the highest status individuals.
General Prologue

When the sweet showers of April have pierced to the root the
dryness of March and bathed every vein in moisture by which strength
are the flowers brought forth; when Zephyr also with his sweet breath
has given spirit to the tender new shoots in the grove and field, and the
young sun has run half his course through Aries the Ram, and little birds
make melody and sleep all night with an open eye, so nature pricks them
in their hearts; then people long to go on pilgrimages to renowned
shrines in various distant lands, and palmers to seek foreign shores. And
especially from every shire's end in England they make their way to
Canterbury, to seek the holy blessed martyr who helped them when they
were sick.
General Prologue
One day in that season, as I was waiting at the Tabard Inn at
Southwark, about to make my pilgrimage with devout heart to Canterbury, it
happened that there came at night to that inn a company of twenty-nine
various people, who by chance had joined together in fellowship. All were
pilgrims, riding to Canterbury. The chambers and the stables were spacious,
and we were lodged well. But in brief, when the sun had gone to rest, I had
spoken with every one of them and was soon a part of their company, and
agreed to rise early to take our way to where I have told you.

Nevertheless, while I have time and space, before this tale goes
further, I think it is reasonable to tell you all the qualities of each of them, as
they appeared to me, what sort of people they were, of what station and how
they were fashioned. I will begin with a knight.
 General Prologue

The Knight

- described first, as befits a 'worthy man' of high status. The Knight has fought
in the Crusades in numerous countries, and always been honored for his worthiness
and courtesy. Everywhere he went, the narrator tells us, he had a 'sovereyn prys' (which
could mean either an 'outstanding reputation', or a price on his head for the fighting he
has done). The Knight is dressed in a 'fustian' tunic, made of coarse cloth, which is
stained by the rust from his coat of chainmail.
- he was truly a perfect gentle knight, he never yet spoke any discourtesy to
any living creature.
 General Prologue

The Squire

- Son of the knight

- a lover and a lusty bachelor, only twenty years old. The Squire cuts a
rather feminine figure, his clothes embroidered with red and white
flowers, and he is constantly singing or playing the flute. He is the only
pilgrim (other than, of course, Chaucer himself) who explicitly has
literary ambitions.
General Prologue

The Yeoman

- (a freeborn servant) also travels along with the Knight's entourage,

and is clad in coat and hood of green. The Yeoman is excellent at
caring for arrows, and travels armed with a huge amount of
weaponry: arrows, a bracer (arm guard), a sword, a buckler, and a
dagger as sharp as a spear. He wears an image of St. Christopher on
his breast.
- The narrator believed that he was a woodsman because he
understood all well the practice of woodcraft
 General Prologue

Prioress

- called 'Madame Eglantine' (or, in modern parlance, Mrs. Sweetbriar).

She could sweetly sing religious services, speaks fluent French and has
excellent table manners. She is so charitable and piteous, that she
would weep if she saw a mouse caught in a trap, and she has two
small dogs with her. She wears a brooch with the inscription 'Amor
vincit omnia' ('Love conquers all'). The Prioress brings with her her
'chapeleyne' (secretary), the Second Nun.
General Prologue

The Monk

- an extremely fine and handsome man who loves to hunt, and

who follows modern customs rather than old traditions. This
is no bookish monk, studying in a cloister, but a man who
keeps greyhounds to hunt the hare. The Monk is well-fed, fat,
and his eyes are bright, gleaming like a furnace in his head.
General Prologue

The Friar

- wanton and merry, and he is a 'lymytour' by trade (a friar licensed to

beg in certain districts). He is extremely well beloved of franklins
(landowners) and worthy woman all over the town. He hears
confession and gives absolution, and is an excellent beggar, able to
earn himself a farthing wherever he went. His name is Huberd.
- He also had a pleasant voice in singing, and could play fiddle
General Prologue

The Merchant

- wears a forked beard, motley clothes and sat high upon his
horse. He gives his opinion very solemnly, and does excellent
business as a merchant, never being in any debt. But, the
narrator ominously remarks, 'I noot how men hym calle' (I
don't know how men call him, or think of him).
General Prologue

The Clerk

- follows the Merchant. A student of Oxford university, he would rather

have twenty books by Aristotle than rich clothes or musical
instruments, and thus is dressed in a threadbare short coat. He only
has a little gold, which he tends to spend on books and learning, and
takes huge care and attention of his studies. He never speaks a word
more than is needed, and that is short, quick and full of sentence (the
Middle-English word for 'meaningfulness' is a close relation of
'sententiousness').
General Prologue

The Man of Law

- (referred to here as 'A Sergeant of the Lawe') is a judicious and
dignified man, or, at least, he seems so because of his wise words. He
is a judge in the court of assizes, by letter of appointment from the
king, and because of his high standing receives many grants. He can
draw up a legal document, the narrator tells us, and no-one can find a
flaw in his legal writings. Yet, despite all this money and social worth,
the Man of Law rides only in a homely, multi-coloured coat.
- He knew in precise terms every case and judgment, and every statute
fully, word for word.
General Prologue

A Franklin

- travels with the Man of Law. He has a beard as white as a daisy, and of
the sanguine humour (dominated by his blood). The Franklin is a big
eater, loving a piece of bread dipped in wine, and is described (though
not literally!) as Epicurus' son: the Franklin lives for culinary delight.
His house is always full of meat pie, fish and meat, so much so that it
'snewed in his hous of mete and drynke'. He changes his meats and
drinks according to what foods are in season.
General Prologue
A Haberdasher and a Carpenter, a Weaver, a Dyer and
a Tapycer (weaver of tapestries)

- all of them clothed in the same distinctive guildsman's dress.

- The Guildsmen appear as a unit. English guilds were a
combination of labor unions and social fraternities:
Craftsmen of similar occupations joined together to increase
their bargaining power and live communally.
- Each of them were described as fitted to be an alderman of
his guild
General Prologue

A Cook

- Companion of the five guildsmen

- had been brought along to boil the chicken up with marrow
bones and spices, but this particular Cook knows a draught of
ale very well indeed, according to the narrator. The Cook
could roast and simmer and boil and fry, make stews and
hashes and bake a pie well, but it was a great pity that, on his
shin, he has an ulcer.
General Prologue

A Shipman

- from Dartmouth is next - tanned brown from the hot summer sun,
riding upon a carthorse, and wearing a gown of coarse woolen cloth
which reaches to his knees. The Shipman had, many times, drawn a
secret draught of wine on board ship, while the merchant was
asleep. The Shipman has weathered many storms, and knows his
trade: he knows the locations of all the harbors from Gotland to
Cape Finistere. His ship is called 'the Maudelayne'.
General Prologue

A Doctor of Medicine

- the next pilgrim described, clad in red and blue, and no-one in the world can
match him in speaking about medicine and surgery. He knows the cause of
every illness, what humor engenders them, and how to cure them. He is a
perfect practitioner of medicine, and he has apothecaries ready to send him
drugs and mixtures. He is well-read in the standard medical authorities,
from the Greeks right through to Chaucer's contemporary Gilbertus
Anglicus. The Doctor, however, has not studied the Bible.
- He was well grounded in astrology and loved gold above all else
 General Prologue

The Wife of Bath

- deef' (a little deaf, as her tale will later expand upon) and that was a shame. The
Wife of Bath is so adept at making cloth that she surpasses even the cloth-making
capitals of Chaucer's world, Ypres and Ghent, and she wears coverchiefs (linen
coverings for the head) which must (the narrator assumes) have 'weyeden ten
pound'.
- She was gap-toothed
- She had had five husbands through the church door, and had been at
Jerusalem, Rome and Boulogne on pilgrimage. She is also described as 'Gat-
tothed' (traditionally denoting lasciviousness), and as keeping good
company, she knows all the answers about love: 'for she koude of that art the
olde daunce' (she knew the whole dance as far as love is concerned!).
General Prologue

A Parson of a Town
- although poor in goods, is rich in holy thought and work. He's a
learned man, who truly preaches Christ's gospel, and devoutly
teaches his parishioners. He travels across his big parish to visit all
of his parishioners, on his feet, carrying a staff in his hand. He is a
noble example to his parishioners ('his sheep', as they are
described) because he acts first, and preaches second (or, in
Chaucer's phrase, 'first he wroghte, and afterward he taughte'). The
narrator believes that there is no better priest to be found
anywhere.
General Prologue

Plowman

- a good, hard-working man, who lives in peace and

charity, and treats his neighbor as he would be treated.
He rides on a mare, and wears a tabard (a workman's
loose garment).
- He loves God at best with his whole heart
- Brother of the Parson
General Prologue

A Miller
- He is big-boned and has big muscles, and always wins the prize in
wrestling matches. There's not a door that he couldn't lift off its
hinges, or break it by running at it head-first. He has black, wide
nostrils, carries a sword and a buckler (shield) by his side, a wart on
the tip of his noes and has a mouth like a great furnace. He's good at
stealing corn and taking payment for it three times. But then, Chaucer
implies, there are no honest millers.
- He was also described as a teller of dirty stories and it was mostly of
sin and obscenity
General Prologue

A noble Manciple

- (a business agent, purchaser of religious provisions) is

the next pilgrim to be described, and a savvy financial
operator. Though a common man, the Manciple can
surpass the wisdom of the great learned men because
of his wits and deceive them.
General Prologue

The Reeve

- a slender, choleric man, long-legged and lean ("ylyk a

staf"). He knows exactly how much grain he has, and is
excellent at keeping his granary and his grain bin. There is
no bailiff, herdsman or servant about whom the Reeve
does not know something secret or treacherous; as a
result, they are afraid of him 'as of the deeth'.
General Prologue

The Summoner

- his face fire-red and pimpled, with narrow eyes. He has a skin disease
across his black brows, and his beard (which has hair falling out of it)
and he is extremely lecherous. There is, the narrator tells us, no
ointment or cure, or help him to remove his pimples. He loves
drinking wine which is as 'reed as blood', when he’s drunk he would
cry out mad and speak nothing but Latin words and he loves eating
leeks, onions and garlic. He knows how to trick someone.
General Prologue

Pardoner

- He carries a wallet full of pardons in his lap, brimful of pardons come

from Rome. The Pardoner is sexually ambiguous - he has a thin, boyish
voice, and the narrator wonders whether he is a 'geldyng or a mare' (a
eunuch or a homosexual).
- Travels with the Summoner
 General Prologue
Host
- the last member of the company described, a large man with bright, large
eyes - and an extremely fair man. The Host welcomes everyone to the inn,
and announces the pilgrimage to Canterbury, and decides that, on the way
there, the company shall 'talen and pleye' (to tell stories and amuse
themselves). Everyone consents to the Host's plan for the game, and he then
goes on to set it out.

- What the Host describes is a tale-telling game, in which each pilgrim shall tell two
tales on the way to Canterbury, and two more on the way home; whoever tells the
tale 'of best sentence and moost solas' shall have supper at the cost of all of the
other pilgrims, back at the Inn, once the pilgrimage returns from Canterbury. The
pilgrims agree to the Host's suggestion, and agree to accord to the Host's judgment
as master of the tale-telling game. Everyone then goes to bed.
General Prologue

The Narrator

- in the General Prologue, the narrator presents himself as a

gregarious and naïve character. Later on, the Host accuses him of being
silent and sullen. The narrator writes down his impressions of the pilgrims
from memory. What he chooses to remember about the characters tells us
as much about the narrator’s own prejudices as it does about the
characters themselves.
General Prologue

"Gentle people," said he, "please listen now, but take it not, I pray
you, disdainfully. To speak briefly and plainly, this is the point, that
each of you for pastime shall tell two tales in this journey to
Canterbury, and two others on the way home, of things that have
happened in the past. And whichever of you bears himself best, that
is to say, that tells now tales most instructive and delighting, shall
have a supper at the expense of us all, sitting here in this place,
beside this post, when we come back from Canterbury. And to add
to your sport I will gladly go with you at my own cost, and be your
guide. And whoever opposes my judgment shall pay all that we
spend on the way. If you agree that this will be so, tell me now,
without more words, and without delay I will plan for that."
General Prologue

Without delay every one began to draw, and in short, whether

it were by chance or not, the truth is, the lot fell to the Knight, at which
every one was merry and glad. He was to tell his tale, as was
reasonable, according to the agreement that you have heard. What
need is there for more words?

When this good man saw it was so, as one discreet and
obedient to his free promise he said, "Since I begin the game, what, in
God's name, welcome be the cut! Now let us ride on, and listen to
what I say." And at that word we rode forth on our journey. And he
soon began his tale with a cheerful spirit, and spoke in this way.
The Knight’s Tale
Cast of Characters

A great conqueror and the duke of Athens in

the Knight’s Tale. The most powerful ruler in the
story, he is often called upon to make the final
judgment, but he listens to others’ pleas for help.
The Knight’s Tale
Cast of Characters

One of the two imprisoned Theban soldier

heroes in the Knight’s Tale. Brave, strong, and sworn
to everlasting friendship with his cousin Arcite,
Palamon falls in love with the fair maiden Emelye,
which brings him into conflict with Arcite.
The Knight’s Tale
Cast of Characters

The sworn brother to Palamon. Arcite,

imprisoned with Palamon in the tower in the
Knight’s Tale, falls equally head-over-heels in love
with Emelye. Arcite gets released from the tower
early and become a page of Emelye because he
disguised himself.
The Knight’s Tale
Cast of Characters

The sister to Hippolyta, Theseus’s

domesticated Amazon queen in the Knight’s Tale.
Fair-haired and glowing, we first see Emelye as
Palamon does, through a window. Though she is the
object of both Palamon’s and Arcite’s desire, she
would rather spend her life unmarried and childless.
The Knight’s Tale
Cast of Characters

Theseus’s father. Egeus gives Theseus the

advice that helps him convince Palamon and
Emelye to end their mourning of Arcite and get
married.
The Knight’s Tale

(I)
- The Knight begins his tale with the story of
Theseus, a prince, who married Hippolyta, the
queen of Scythia, and brought her and her sister,
Emelye, back to Athens with him after
conquering her kingdom of Amazons.
The Knight’s Tale
Once on a time, as old tales
tell to us,
There was a duke whose
name was Theseus:
Of Athens he was lord and
governor,
And in his time was such a
conqueror
That greater was there not
beneath the sun.
Full many a rich country had
he won;
What with his wisdom and his
chivalry
He gained the realm of
Femininity,
That was of old time known as
Scythia.
There wedded he the queen,
Hippolyta,
And brought her home with
him to his country.
In glory great and with great
pageantry,
And, too, her younger sister,
Emily.
The Knight’s Tale

- When Theseus returned home victorious, he

became aware of a company of women clad in
black who knelt at the side of the highway,
shrieking. The oldest of the women asked Theseus
for pity.
The Knight’s Tale
A company of ladies, two by two,
Knelt, all in black, before his
cavalcade;
But such a clamorous cry of woe
they made
That in the whole world living man
had heard
No such a lamentation, on my
word;
Nor would they cease lamenting till
at last
They'd clutched his bridle reins and
held them fast.
"What folk are you that at my
home-coming
Disturb my triumph with this
dolorous thing?"
Cried Theseus. "Do you so
much envy
My honour that you thus
complain and cry?
Or who has wronged you
now, or who offended?
Come, tell me whether it may
be amended;
And tell me, why are you
clothed thus, in black?"
The Knight’s Tale
Now help us, lord, since it is in your
might.
"I, wretched woman, who am
weeping thus,
Was once the wife of King
Capaneus,
Who died at Thebes, oh, cursed be
the day!
And all we that you see in this array,
And make this lamentation to be
known,
All we have lost our husbands at
that town
During the siege that round about it
lay.
And now the old Creon, ah
welaway!
The lord and governor of Thebes
city,
Full of his wrath and all iniquity,
He, in despite and out of tyranny,
To do the dead a shame and villainy,
Of all our husbands, lying among
the slain,
Has piled the bodies in a heap,
amain,
And will not suffer them, nor give
consent,
To buried be, or burned, nor will
relent,
But sets his dogs to eat them, out of
spite."
The Knight’s Tale

Theseus swore vengeance upon Creon, and immediately

ordered his armies toward Thebes. Theseus vanquished Creon,
and when the soldiers were disposing of the bodies they found
two young knights, Arcite and Palamon, two royal cousins, not
quite dead. Theseus ordered that they be imprisoned in Athens
for life. They passed their time imprisoned in a tower in Athens
until they saw Emelye in a nearby garden. Both fell immediately
in love with her.
The Knight’s Tale

In honour of the May, and so she rose.

Clothed, she was sweeter than any flower that
blows;
Her yellow hair was braided in one tress
Behind her back, a full yard long, I guess.
And in the garden, as the sun up-rose,
She sauntered back and forth and through each
close,
Gathering many a flower, white and red,
To weave a delicate garland for her head;
And like a heavenly angel's was her song.
The Knight’s Tale

PALAMON:
"Cousin, indeed in this opinion now
Your fancy is but vanity, I trow.
It's not our prison that caused me to cry.
But I was wounded lately through the eye
Down to my heart, and that my bane will be.
The beauty of the lady that I see
There in that garden, pacing to and fro,
Is cause of all my crying and my woe.
I know not if she's woman or goddess;
But Venus she is verily, I guess."
The Knight’s Tale

ARCITE:
“The virgin beauty slays me suddenly
Of her that wanders yonder in that place;
And save I have her pity and her grace,
That I at least may see her day by day,
I am but dead; there is no more to say."
The Knight’s Tale

Pirithous, a prince and childhood friend of Theseus, had

come to Athens. Pirithous had known Arcite at Thebes, and at
his request, Theseus set Arcite free on the promise that Arcite
would never again be seen in Theseus' kingdom. He now had
his freedom, but not the ability to pursue Emelye, and lamented
the cruelty of fate. Palamon, however, envied Arcite, since he did
now have the option of raising an army against Theseus to
conquer Athens.
The Knight’s Tale

(II)
Two years passed. After spending two years in Thebes,
one night Arcite dreamt that he saw the god Mercury standing
before him, bidding him to be free of hope and care, and telling
him to go to Athens to relieve his grief. Arcite decided to disguise
himself, return to Athens and pass unknown.
Arriving at the court, Arcite offered his services, and took a
post with Emelye's steward under the name of Philostratus. Arcite
worked as a page in Emelye's house and was so well loved that
Theseus soon made him squire of his chamber.
The Knight’s Tale

Meanwhile Palamon had lived for seven years in his

dungeon, before, eventually, he escaped from the tower and fled
the city, with the intention of disguising himself and making
toward Thebes. That morning Arcite went horseback riding. In the
area outside of the city, he dismounted and began to speak to
himself, lamenting life without Emelye. Palamon, overhearing,
leapt out and revealed himself to Arcite. Since neither had
weapons, they made a vow to meet in the same place tomorrow
and fight to the death over Emelye.
The Knight’s Tale
ARCITE:
Now I'm Philostrates, not worth a mite.
Alas, thou cruel Mars! Alas, Juno!
Thus have your angers all our kin brought low,
Save only me, and wretched Palamon,
Whom Theseus martyrs yonder in prison.
And above all, to slay me utterly,
Love has his fiery dart so burningly
Struck through my faithful and care-laden heart,
My death was patterned ere my swaddling-shirt.
You slay me with your two eyes, Emily;
You are the cause for which I now must die.
For on the whole of all my other care
I would not set the value of a tare,
So I could do one thing to your pleasance!"
The Knight’s Tale

They returned the next day armed for battle. At the same
time, and in the same place, Theseus, Hippolyta and Emelye were
out hunting, and, reaching the area where Arcite and Palamon
were fighting, Theseus stopped the battle. Palamon told Theseus
that Arcite is the man who was banished (and that he has
returned, disguised as Philostratus), while he himself is the
escaped prisoner. He also told Theseus that both men love
Emelye. Theseus ordered the death of both, but the queen and
Emelye took pity on the two men, and begged Theseus for mercy.
The Knight’s Tale

(III)
Theseus commissioned the building of a stadium
a mile in circumference for the duel between Arcite and
Palamon. This stadium was opulent, featuring carvings
and portraits as well as temples honoring Mars, Diana
and Venus. When the day of the duel approached,
Palamon brought Lycurgus, the king of Thrace, to fight
with him, while Arcite brought Emetreus, the king of
India.
The Knight’s Tale

When the day of the duel approached, Palamon brought

Lycurgus, the King of Thrace, to fight with him, while Arcite brought
Emetreus, the King of India.
The night before the duel, Palamon prayed to Venus to solace
his pains of love, asking Venus (goddess of love) to let Arcite murder
him if Arcite will be the one to marry Emelye. Emelye prayed at the
shrine to Diana, the goddess of chastity. She prayed that she could
remain a maiden all her life and not be a man's lover nor wife. She
prayed, moreover, for peace and friendship between Arcite and
Palamon. Arcite prayed to Mars. He prayed for victory in battle.
The Knight’s Tale
PALAMON’s prayer to VENUS:
"Fairest of fair, O lady mine, Venus,
Daughter of Jove and spouse to Vulcanus,
Thou gladdener of the Mount of
Citheron,
By that great love thou borest to Adon,
Have pity on my bitter tears that smart
And hear my humble prayer within thy
heart.
Alas! I have no words in which to tell
The effect of all the torments of my hell;
My heavy heart its evils can't bewray;
I'm so confused I can find naught to say.
But mercy, lady bright, that knowest well
My heart, and seest all the ills I feel,
Consider and have ruth upon my sore
As truly as I shall, for evermore,
Well as I may, thy one true servant be,
And wage a war henceforth on chastity.
If thou wilt help , thus do I make my vow,
To boast of knightly skill I care not now,
Nor do I ask tomorrow's victory,
Nor any such renown, nor vain glory
Of prize of arms, blown before lord and
churl,
But I would have possession of one girl,
Of Emily, and die in thy service;
The Knight’s Tale
EMILY’S prayer to DIANA:
"O thou chaste goddess of the
wildwood green,
By whom all heaven and earth and
sea are seen,
Queen of the realm of Pluto, dark
and low,
Goddess of maidens, that my heart
dost know
For all my years, and knowest what I
desire,
Oh, save me from thy vengeance
and thine ire
. I do not crave the company of man
That on Actaeon fell so cruelly.
Chaste goddess, well indeed thou
knowest that I
Desire to be a virgin all my life,
Nor ever wish to be man's love or
wife.
I am, thou know'st, yet of thy
company,
A maid, who loves the hunt and
venery,
And to go rambling in the
greenwood wild,
And not to be a wife and be with
child.
The Knight’s Tale
ARCITA’S prayer to MARS:
I'm young, and little skilled, as
knowest thou,
With love more hurt and much
more broken now
Than ever living creature was,
I'm sure;
For she who makes me all this
woe endure,
Whether I float or sink cares
not at all,
And ere she'll hear with mercy
when I call,
I must by prowess win her in this
place;
And well I know, too, without help
and grace
Of thee, my human strength shall
not avail
Then help me, lord, tomorrow not to
fail,
For sake of that same fire that once
burned thee,
The which consuming fire so now
burns me;
And grant, tomorrow, I have
victory.
The Knight’s Tale

(IV) BATTLE:
Duke Theseus ordered that, during the war between the
two sides, nobody would suffer a mortal blow. If an opponent was
overcome, he was to leave the battle. The people raised their
voices in exultation. The two armies were equal in prowess, age
and nobility, and Arcite pursued Palamon viciously, and Palamon
returned with equal severity. But Emetreus seized Palamon and
pierced him with his sword. In the attempt to rescue Palamon,
King Lycurgus was struck down, and then Emetreus himself was
wounded. Theseus declared that Arcite had won.
The Knight’s Tale

As Arcite was proclaimed victorious, there was an

earthquake sent by Pluto that frightened Arcite's horse, which
swerved and fell, throwing off Arcite and mortally wounding
him. Before he died, Arcite tells Emelye that she could have no
more worthy husband than Palamon. His last word before he
died was her name. Arcite was buried to the place where he and
Palamon had fought over love – in the woods.
The Knight’s Tale
ARCITE to EMILY:
"Naught may the woeful spirit in my heart
Declare one point of how my sorrows smart
To you, my lady, whom I love the most;
But I bequeath the service of my ghost
To you above all others, this being sure
Now that my life may here no more endure.
Alas, the woe! Alas, the pain so strong
That I for you have suffered, and so long!
Alas for death! Alas, my Emily!
Alas, the parting of our company!
Alas, my heart's own queen! Alas, my wife!
My soul's dear lady, ender of my life!
What is this world? What asks a man to
have?
Now with his love, now in the cold dark
grave
Alone, with never any company.
Alone, with never any company.
Farewell, my sweet foe! O my Emily!
Oh, take me in your gentle arms, I pray,
For love of God, and hear what I will say.
"I have here, with my cousin Palamon,
Had strife and rancour many a day that's
gone,
That is to say, truth, honour, and
knighthood,
Wisdom, humility and kinship good,
And generous soul and all the lover's art-
So now may Jove have in my soul his part
As in this world, right now, I know of none
So worthy to be loved as Palamon,
Who serves you and will do so all his life.
And if you ever should become a wife,
Forget not Palamon, the noble man."
The Knight’s Tale

Arcite was buried in a Greek’s culture way. He was burned

to death and Emily was the one who lighted up the fire of the
straws prepared for the burial. Palamon, Emily and Theseus
mourned over Arcite’s death. Theseus wept so much that his
father, Aegeus, advises him saying that death is a natural
occurrence in a man’s life. Theseus, in a very long speech referred
to as the “First Mover” speech, then ordered Emelye to marry
Palamon after a funeral ceremony honoring Arcite. Emily and
Palamon heeded to the advise of the duke, they fall in love and
they married.
The Knight’s Tale
Duke Theseus’ MOVER’s SPEECH:
"The Primal Mover and the Cause above,
When first He forged the goodly chain of
love,
Great the effect, and high was His intent;
Well knew He why, and what thereof He
meant;
For with that goodly chain of love He
bound
The fire, the air, the water, and dry ground
In certain bounds, the which they might not
flee;
That same First Cause and Mover "Has
stablished in this base world, up and down,
A certain length of days to call their own
For all that are engendered in this place,
Beyond the which not one day may they
pace,
Though yet all may that certain time
abridge;
Authority there needs none, I allege,
For it is well proved by experience,
Save that I please to clarify my sense.
Then may men by this order well discern
This Mover to be stable and eterne.
Well may man know, unless he be a fool,
That every part derives but from the whole.
For Nature has not taken his being
From any part and portion of a thing,
But from a substance perfect, stable aye,
And so continuing till changed away.
And therefore, of His Wisdom's Providence,
Has He so well established ordinance
That species of all things and all
progressions,
If they'd endure, it must be by successions,
Not being themselves eternal, 'tis no lie:
The Knight’s Tale
"Sister," quoth he, "you have my full
consent,
With the advice of this my Parliament,
That gentle Palamon, your own true
knight,
Who serves you well with will and
heart and might,
And so has ever, since you knew him
first-
That you shall, of your grace, allay his
thirst
By taking him for husband and for
lord:
Lend me your hand, for this is our
accord.
Let now your woman's pity make him
glad.
For he is a king's brother's son, by gad;
And though he were a poor knight
bachelor,
Since he has served you for so many a
year,
And borne for you so great adversity,
This ought to weigh with you, it seems to
me,
For mercy ought to dominate mere right."
Then said he thus to Palamon the knight:
"I think there needs but little sermoning
To make you give consent, now, to this
thing.
Come near, and take your lady by the
hand."
The Knight’s Tale
Ending
Between them, then, was tied
that nuptial band,
Which is called matrimony or
marriage,
By all the council and the
baronage.
And thus, in all bliss and with
melody,
Has Palamon now wedded
Emily.
And God Who all this universe
has wrought,
Send him His love, who has it
dearly bought.
For now has Palamon, in all things,
wealth,
Living in bliss, in riches, and in
health;
And Emily loved him so tenderly,
And he served her so well and
faithfully,
That never word once marred their
happiness,
No jealousy, nor other such distress.
Thus ends now Palamon and Emily;
And may God save all this fair
company! Amen.
Franklin’s Tale
Cast of Characters

He is a brave Knight who seeks a wife

that will enter into a marriage where both
parties show patience to each other.
Franklin’s Tale
Cast of Characters

She becomes Arveragus’ wife who is

unhappy when her husband is away.
Franklin’s Tale
Cast of Characters

He is a wealthy neighbor who harbors a

secret love for Dorigen.
 Franklin’s Tale

Prologue to the Franklin's Tale

The old Bretons, in their time, made songs, and the Franklin’s
Tale, the narrator says, is to be one of those songs. However, the
Franklin begs the indulgence of the company because he is a
“burel man” (an unlearned man) and simple in his speech. He
has, he says, never learned rhetoric, and he speaks simply and
plainly – the colors he knows are not colors of rhetoric, but
colors of the meadow.
 Franklin’s Tale
These ancient gentle Bretons, in their
I never studied rhetoric, that's certain;
days,
That which I say, it must be bare and
Of divers high adventures made great
plain.
lays
I never slept on Mount Parnassus, no,
And rhymed them in their primal
Nor studied Marcus Tullius Cicero.
Breton tongue,
Colours I know not, there's no doubt
The which lays to their instruments
indeed,
they sung,
Save colours such as grow within the
Or else recited them where joy might
mead,
be;
Or such as men achieve with dye or
And one of them have I in memory,
paint.
Which I shall gladly tell you, as I can.
Colours of rhetoric I find but quaint;
But, sirs, because I am an ignorant man,
My spirit doesn't feel the beauty there.
At my beginning must I first beseech
But if you wish, my story you shall
You will excuse me for my vulgar
hear."
speech;
 Franklin’s Tale

The Franklin's Tale begins with the courtship of the Breton

knight Arviragus and Dorigen, who came to be married happily.
Their marriage was one of equality, in which neither of the two was a
master or servant. However, soon after their marriage, Arviragus was
sent away to Britain to work for two years. Dorigen wept for his
absence, despite the letters that he sent home to her. Her friends
would often take her on walks where they would pass the cliffs
overlooking the ocean and watch ships enter the port, hoping that
one of them would bring home her husband.
 Franklin’s Tale
For all his absence wept she
and she sighed,
As noble wives do at a lone
fireside.
She mourned, watched,
wailed, she fasted and
complained;
Desire for him so bound her
and constrained,
That all this wide world did she
set at naught.
Her friends, who knew her
grief and heavy thought,
Comforted her as they might do or
say;
They preached to her, they told her
night and day
That for no cause she killed herself,
alas!
And so long did they comfort her that
she
Received at last, by hope and reason
grown,
Imprinted consolations as her own,
Whereby her sorrow did somewhat
assuage;
She could not always live in such a
rage.
 Franklin’s Tale

Although her friends’ comforting eventually started to

work, Dorigen remained distressed by the grisly, black rocks
visible from the cliff-side, near to the shore. She asked God why
he would create “this werk unresonable” (this unreasonable
work), whose only purpose was to kill people. Her friends,
seeing how terribly Dorigen feared that whatever ship brought
her husband home would crash on these rocks and sink,
provided further distractions.
 Franklin’s Tale
DORIGEN:
But, Lord, these grisly, fiendish
rocks, so black,
That seem but rather foul confusion
thrown
Awry than any fair world of Thine
own,
Aye of a perfect wise God and
stable,
Why hast Thou wrought this insane
work, pray tell? For by this work,
north, south, and west and east,
There is none nurtured, man, nor
bird, nor beast;
It does no good, to my mind, but
annoys.
See'st Thou not, Lord, how mankind it
destroys?
A hundred thousand bodies of
mankind
Have died on rocks, whose names are
not in mind,
And man's a creature made by Thee
most fair,
After Thine image, as Thou didst
declare.
Then seemed it that Thou had'st great
charity
Toward mankind; but how then may
it be
That Thou hast wrought such means
man to destroy,
 Franklin’s Tale

One day, her friends had organized a party and a dance in a

beautiful garden. It was at this dance that Aurelius, a squire, danced in
front of Dorigen, who was as fresh and well-dressed as the month of May.
His singing and dancing were better than any man’s, and he was one of
the most handsome men alive. Unbeknownst to Dorigen, Aurelius had
been in love with her for two years, but had never dared tell her how he
felt. It was during the dancing, then, that Aurelius addressed Dorigen,
wishing that he, and not her husband, had been sent across the sea,
before begging her to have mercy on him and revealing his love.
 Franklin’s Tale
AURELIUS:
Unto his purpose drew Aurelius,
And when he saw his time
addressed her thus:
"Madam," said he, "by God Who this
world made,
So that I knew it might your sad
heart aid,
I would, that day when your
Arviragus
Went overseas, that I, Aurelius,
Had gone whence never I should
come again;
For well I know. service is in vain.
My guerdon is the breaking of my
heart;
Madam, have pity on my pains that
smart;
For with a word you may slay me or
save,
Here at your feet would God I found
my grave!
Time to say more, at present naught
have I;
Have mercy, sweet, or you will
make me die!"
 Franklin’s Tale

Dorigen responded by sternly rebuking Aurelius, telling him that

she would never be an untrue wife, and had no intention of cuckolding
her husband. And then, “in pley” (playfully, flirtily, in fun), Dorigen added
that she would be Aurelius’ love on the day that all of the rocks were
removed from the coast. This made Aurelius sigh heavily: “Madame”, he
said “this were an inpossible!” (an impossibility). The dance ended and
the guests went home, except for poor, sorrowful Aurelius, who fell to his
knees, and holding his hands to heaven, prayed to the gods for mercy.
 Franklin’s Tale
DORIGEN:
So then she looked upon Aurelius:
"Is this your will?" asked she, "And
say you thus?
Never before have I known what
you meant.
But since, Aurelius, I know your
intent,
By that same God Who gave me
soul and life,
Never shall I become an untrue wife
In word or deed, so far as I have wit:
I will remain his own to whom I'm
knit;
Take this for final answer as from
me."
DORIGEN:
"Aurelius," said she, "by God above,
Yet would I well consent to be your
love,
Since I hear you complain so piteously,
On that day when, from coasts of
Brittany,
You've taken all the black rocks, stone
by stone,
So that they hinder ship nor boat- I
own,
I say, when you have made the coast so
clean
Of rocks that there is no stone to be
seen,
Then will I love you best of any man;
Take here my promise- all that ever I
can."
Franklin’s Tale

For comfort in this long time
had he none,
Save from his brother, who
was a good clerk;
He knew of all this woe and all
this work.
For to no other human, 'tis
certain,
Dared he his cause of illness to
explain.
In breast he kept more secret his
idea
Than did Pamphilius for Galatea.
His breast was whole, with no
wound to be seen,
But in his heart there was the arrow
keen.
And well you know that of a
sursanure
In surgery is difficult the cure,
Unless they find the dart or take it
out.
 Franklin’s Tale

Arviragus then returned from abroad, and Dorigen was delighted

to have him back. Two years passed, and Aurelius lay in torment, and
without comfort – except, that is for his brother, a clerk, who suggested
that he meet a student of law at Orleans who was versed in the sciences
of illusion and “magyk”. Heading toward Orleans, the two came across a
young clerk, roaming by himself, who greeted them in Latin, and claimed
to know why they came. And before they went a step further, he told
them exactly what they were travelling to achieve.
 Franklin’s Tale

Aurelius leapt down from his horse, and went with this man to
his house, where he fed them and showed them wondrous illusions of
various kinds. The man eventually agreed to remove the rocks from the
coast for a thousand pounds.
The next morning, having stayed at the man’s house, they
travelled to Brittany, where, by illusion, the man made it so that, for a
week or two, it would appear that the rocks had vanished.
 Franklin’s Tale
AURELIUS:
"To love me best, God knows you
promised so,
Howe'er I may unworthy be thereto.
Madam, I say it for your honour's vow
More than to save my heart's dear life
right now;
I have done all that you commanded
me;
And if you will, you may well go and
see.
Do as you please, but hold your word
in mind,
For quick or dead, as you do, me you'll
find;
In you lies all, to make me live or die,
But well I know the rocks are vanished,
aye!"
He took his leave, and she
astounded stood,
In all her face there was no drop
of blood;
She never thought to have
come in such a trap.
"Alas!" said she, "that ever this
should hap!
For thought I never, by
possibility,
That such prodigious marvel
e'er might be!
It is against the way of all
nature."
 Franklin’s Tale

Arvigarus was out of town, and Dorigen was overcome with grief,
realizing that she must forfeit either her body or her reputation. She
thought about the numerous instances in which a faithful wife or a
maiden destroyed herself rather than submitting herself to another. She
cited the maidens of Lacedaemon who chose to be slain rather than
defiled, Hasdrubal's wife, who committed suicide during the siege of
Carthage, and Lucrece, who did the same when Tarquin took her by force.
 Franklin’s Tale
Nevertheless, I would far
DORIGEN:
rather lose
"Of thee," she cried, "O
My life than of my body
Fortune, I complain,
come to shame,
That, unaware, I'm bound
Or know myself untrue, or
within thy chain;
lose my name;
From which to go, I know
By death I know it well, I
of no succour
may be freed;
Save only death, or else my
Has there not many a
dishonour;
noble wife, indeed,
One of these two I am
And many a maiden slain
compelled to choose.
herself- alas!-
 Franklin’s Tale

When Arviragus returned home and Dorigen told

him the truth of what had happened, he told that he will
bear the shame of her actions, and that adhering to her
promise is the most important thing. He therefore sent
her to submit to Aurelius.
 Franklin’s Tale
Home came Arviragus, this
worthy knight,
And asked her why it was she
wept so sore.
And thereat she began to weep
the more.
"Alas!" cried she, "that ever I was
born!
Thus have I said," quoth she,
"thus have I sworn"-
And told him all, as you have
heard before;
It needs not to re-tell it to you
more.
Nevertheless, I would far
rather lose
My life than of my body come
to shame,
Or know myself untrue, or lose
my name;
By death I know it well, I may
be freed;
Has there not many a noble
wife, indeed,
And many a maiden slain
herself- alas!-
 Franklin’s Tale

ARVIRAGUS:
"Yea, wife," said he, "let
This husband, with glad
sleep what's lying still;
cheer, in friendly wise,
It may be well with us,
Answered and said as I
perchance, today.
shall you apprise:
But you your word shall
"Is there naught else, my
hold to, by my fay!
Dorigen, than this?"
As God may truly mercy
"Nay, nay," said she, "God
have on me,
help me, as it is
Wounded to death right
This is too much, though it
now I'd rather be,
were God's own will."
 Franklin’s Tale
For sake of this great love
of you I have,
Than you should not your
true word keep and save.
Truth is the highest thing
that man may keep."
But with that word began
he then to weep,
And said: "I you forbid, on
pain of death,
That ever, while to you last
life and breath,
To anyone you tell this
adventure.
As I best may, I will my woe
endure,
Nor show a countenance of
heaviness,
That folk no harm may think
of you, or guess."
 Franklin’s Tale

Dorigen went to the middle town, in the

busiest street where Aurelius accidentally saw her
and followed her. She went to the garden where she
pledged her word towards Aurelius.
 Franklin’s Tale
"Unto the garden, as my husband
bade,
My promise there to keep, alas,
alast"
Aurelius then pondered on this
case,
And in his heart he had
compassion great
On her and her lamenting and her
state,
And on Arviragus, the noble
knight,
Who'd bidden her keep
promise, as she might,
Being so loath his wife should
break with truth;
And in his heart he gained,
from this, great ruth,
Considering the best on every
side,
That from possession rather
he'd abide
Than do so great a churlish
grievousness
Against free hearts and all high
nobleness;
 Franklin’s Tale
"Madam, say to your lord Arviragus
That since I see his noble gentleness
And do return, discharged, each
To you, and since I see well your
surety and
distress,
My word I pledge, I'll ne'er seek to
That he'd have rather shame (and
retrieve
that were ruth)
A single promise, and I take my leave
Than you to me should break your
As of the truest and of the best wife
word of truth,
That ever yet I've known in all my life.
I would myself far rather suffer woe
Let every wife of promises take care,
Than break apart the love between
Remember Dorigen, and so beware!
you two.
Thus can a squire perform a gentle
So I release, madam, into your hand,
deed
Each bond that you have given and
As well as can a knight, of that take
have sworn,
heed."
Even from the very time that you
were born.
 Franklin’s Tale

Aurelius then went to pay the law student, even

though his affair remained unconsummated, he even
cursed the day that he was born because of his debt
towards the law student.
 Franklin’s Tale

AURELIUS:
And shame all of my kindred in
"Alas!" cried he, "Alas! that I did
this place,
state
Unless I gain of him some better
I'd pay fine gold a thousand
grace.
pounds by weight
And so I'll go to him and try,
To this philosopher! What shall I
today,
do?
On certain dates, from year to
I see no better than I'm ruined
year, to pay,
too.
And thank him for his princely
All of my heritage I needs must
courtesy;
sell
For I will keep my word, and I'll
And be a beggar; here I cannot
not lie."
dwell
 Franklin’s Tale
AURELIUS:
"Dear master, I may well protest
I've never failed to keep my word, as
yet;
For certainly I'll pay my entire debt
To you, however after I may fare,
Even to begging, save for kirtle, bare.
But if you'd grant, on good security,
Two years or three of respite unto
me,
Then all were well; otherwise must I
sell
“Dear master, I may well protest
I've never failed to keep my word, as
yet;
For certainly I'll pay my entire debt
To you, however after I may fare,
Even to begging, save for kirtle, bare.
But if you'd grant, on good security,
Two years or three of respite unto
me,
Then all were well; otherwise must I
sell
My heritage; there is no more to
tell."
 Franklin’s Tale

"Dear brother, "Sir, I release to you your thousand

Each one of you has nobly
dealt with other.
You are a squire, true, and he is
a knight,
But God forbid, what of His
blessed might,
A clerk should never do a
gentle deed
As well as any of you. Of this
take heed!
pound,
As if, right now, you'd crept out of
the ground
And never, before now, had known
of me.
For, sir, I'll take of you not one
penny
For all my art and all my long travail.
You have paid well for all my meat
and ale;
It is enough, so farewell, have good
day!"
Franklin’s Tale Ending

Masters, this question would I ask you now:

Which was most generous, do you think, and
how.
Pray tell me this before you farther wend.
I can no more, my tale is at an end.