It's interesting that the Clerk receives instructions which no one else has needed. The Clerk of Oxford mollifies the Host, and then announces that his tale will come from a Paduan, in fact Francis Petrarca Petrarchwho related it to him personally.
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 has run, And many little birds make melody That sleep through all the night with open eye So Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage - Then do folk long to go on pilgrimage, And palmers to go seeking out strange strands, To distant shrines well known in sundry lands.
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 weak.
Befell that, in that season, on a day In Southwark, at the Tabard, as I lay Ready to start upon my pilgrimage To Canterbury, full of devout homage, There came at nightfall to that hostelry Some nine and twenty in a company Of sundry persons who had chanced to fall In fellowship, and pilgrims were they all That toward Canterbury town would ride.
The rooms and stables spacious were and wide, And well we there were eased, and of the best. And briefly, when the sun had gone to rest, So had I spoken with them, every one, That I was of their fellowship anon, And made agreement that we'd early rise To take the road, as you I will apprise.
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 the inn; And with a knight thus will I first begin.
A knight there was, and he a worthy man, Who, from the moment that he first began To ride about the world, loved chivalry, Truth, honour, freedom and all courtesy. Full worthy was he in his liege-lord's war, And therein had he ridden none more far As well in Christendom as heathenesse, And honoured everywhere for worthiness.
At Alexandria, he, when it was won; Full oft the table's roster he'd begun Above all nations' knights in Prussia. In Latvia raided he, and Russia, No christened man so oft of his degree.
In far Granada at the siege was he Of Algeciras, and in Belmarie. Of mortal battles he had fought fifteen, And he'd fought for our faith at Tramissene Three times in lists, and each time slain his foe.
This self-same worthy knight had been also At one time with the lord of Palatye Against another heathen in Turkey: And always won he sovereign fame for prize. Though so illustrious, he was very wise And bore himself as meekly as a maid.
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. 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.
With him there was his son, a youthful squire, A lover and a lusty bachelor, With locks well curled, as if they'd laid in press. Some twenty years of age he was, I guess. In stature he was of an average length, Wondrously active, aye, and great of strength.
He'd ridden sometime with the cavalry In Flanders, in Artois, and Picardy, And borne him well within that little space In hope to win thereby his lady's grace. Prinked out he was, as if he were a mead, All full of fresh-cut flowers white and red.
Singing he was, or fluting, all the day; He was as fresh as is the month of May. Short was his gown, with sleeves long and wide. Well could be sit on horse, and fairly ride.
He could make songs and words thereto indite, Joust, and dance too, as well as sketch and write. So hot he loved that, while night told her tale, He slept no more than does a nightingale. Courteous he, and humble, willing and able, And carved before his father at the table.
A yeoman had he, nor more servants, no, At that time, for he chose to travel so; And he was clad in coat and hood of green. A sheaf of peacock arrows bright and keen Under his belt he bore right carefully Well could he keep his tackle yeomanly: His arrows had no draggled feathers lowAnd in his hand he bore a mighty bow.
A cropped head had he and a sun-browned face.Five of Chaucer’s colourful and entertaining tales of love, infidelity, intrigue, courtship and death are brought vividly to life as you make your journey through the . A Day at the Norton Simon Museum - A Day at the Norton Simon Museum It was the day of April 13, I woke up at exactly 12 o’clock because my boyfriend was .
Canterburry tales essay. especially with a constant change in society. The moral and ethical views indicated in the short stories “The Pardoner’s Tale”, “The Wife of Bath’s Tale”, and “The Oxford Cleric’s Tale” that are located in The Canterbury Tales, written by Geoffrey Chaucer, are mixed into today’s society as being valid, invalid, or sometimes valid.
The Canterbury Tales: General Prologue Of his visage children were aferd. Ther nas quyk-silver, lytarge, ne brymstoon, Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon, "Ye goon to Canterbury—God yow speede, The blisful martir quite yow youre meede!
And wel I woot. Explore Judy B's board "Canterbury Tales" on Pinterest. | See more ideas about Canterbury tales, Grimm fairy tales and Grimm's fairy tales book. "the canterbury tales essay Arthur Szyk - "The Friar" from The Canterbury Tales" The Cantebury Tales.
What others are saying "In this animated version it is again apparent that modern Chaucer. Canterbury Cathedral, destination of Chaucer's Pilgrims 1) Chaucer had at least nine other major works besides the Canterbury Tales, and wrote a number of short poems as well.
2) There's a crater on the far side of the moon named for Chaucer.