The Prologue

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Macmillan, 1903 - 116 pages
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Excellent. I'm translating the Prologue and his explanations are very good -- and the basic reference for many other discussions and interpretations.

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Page 11 - But al be that he was a philosophre, Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre...
Page 4 - With lokkes crulle, as they were leyd in presse. Of twenty yeer of age he was, I gesse. Of his stature he was of evene lengthe, And wonderly deliver, and greet of strengthe.
Page 15 - To speke of phisik and of surgerye; For he was grounded in astronomye.
Page 6 - Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte; And al was conscience and tendre herte. Ful semyly hir wympul pynched was; Hire nose tretys, hir eyen greye as glas, Hir mouth ful smal and ther-to softe and reed, But sikerly she hadde a fair forheed; It was almoost a spanne brood I trowe, For, hardily, she was nat undergrowe.
Page 14 - Burdeuxward, whil that the chapman sleep. Of nyce conscience took he no keep; If that he faught, and hadde the hyer hond, By water he sente hem hoom to every lond.
Page 6 - And to ben holden digne of reverence. But, for to speken of hir conscience, She was so charitable and so pitous, She wolde wepe, if that she sawe a mous Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde. Of smale houndes had she, that she fedde With rosted flesh, or milk and wastel-breed. But sore weep she if oon of hem were deed, Or if men smoot it with a yerde...
Page 1 - WHAN that Aprille with his shoures soote The droghte of March hath perced to the roote. And bathed every veyne in swich licour, Of which vertu engendred is the flour; Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne, And smale foweles maken melodye, That slepen al the nyght with open eye, So priketh hem nature in hir corages; Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages...
Page 3 - Somtyme with the lord of Palatye Agayn another hethen in Turkye. And everemoore he hadde a sovereyn prys; And though that he were worthy, he was wys, And of his port as meeke as is a mayde. He nevere yet no vileynye ne sayde In al his lyf unto no maner wight. He was a verray, parfit gentil knyght.
Page 19 - A trewe swynkere and a good was he, Lyvynge in pees and parfit charitee. God loved he best, with al his hoole herte, At alle tymes, thogh him gamed or smerte, And thanne his neighebore right as hymselve.
Page 13 - An anlaas, and a gipser al of silk, Heeng at his girdel, whit as morne milk; A shirreve hadde he been, and a countour. Was nowher such a worthy vavasour.

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