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nydus/The Canterbury TalesPublic

A group of pilgrims trade tales as they travel through medieval England.

Page 16 of 465
Table of Contents

The Prologue

A good man there was of religión, That was a poorë Parson of a town: But rich he was of holy thought and werk: He was also a learned man, a clerk, That Christë’s gospel truly wouldë preach. His parishens devoutly would he teach. Benign he was, and wonder diligent, And in adversity full patient: And such he was y-proved often sithes. Full loth were him to cursë for his tithes, But rather would he given out of doubt, Unto his poorë parishens about, Of his off’ring, and eke of his substánce. He could in little thing have suffisance. Wide was his parish, and houses far asunder, But he ne left not, for no rain nor thunder, In sickness and in mischief to visit The farthest in his parish, much and lit, Upon his feet, and in his hand a staff. This noble ensample to his sheep he gaf, That first he wrought, and afterward he taught. Out of the gospel he the wordës caught, And this figúre he added yet thereto, That if gold rustë, what should iron do? For if a priest be foul, on whom we trust, No wonder is a lewëd man to rust: And shame it is, if that a priest take keep, To see a shitten shepherd and clean sheep: Well ought a priest ensample for to give, By his own cleanness, how his sheep should live.

He settë not his benefice to hire, And left his sheep eucumber’d in the mire, And ran unto London, unto Saint Poul’s, To seekë him a chantery for souls, Or with a brotherhood to be withold: But dwelt at home, and keptë well his fold, So that the wolf ne made it not miscarry. He was a shepherd, and no mercenary. And though he holy were, and virtuous, He was to sinful men not dispitous Nor of his speechë dangerous nor dign, But in his teaching díscreet and benign. To drawen folk to heaven, with fairness, By good ensample, was his business: But it were any person obstinate, What so he were of high or low estate, Him would he snibbë sharply for the nonës. A better priest I trow that nowhere none is. He waited after no pomp nor reverence, Nor maked him a spiced consciénce, But Christë’s lore, and his apostles’ twelve, He taught, and first he follow’d it himselve.

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