When that Aprile with his showers swoot[18]
The drought of March hath pierced to the root,
And bathed every vein in such liqour
Of which virtue engendered is the flower;
When Zephyrus eke with his sweete breath
Inspired hath in every holt and heath
The tender croppes, and the younge sun
Hath in the Ram his halfe course yrun,
And smalle fowles maken melody,
That sleepen all the night with open eye,--
So pricketh hem nature in hir courages[19]--
Then longen folk to go on pilgrimages,
And palmers for to seeken strange strands,
To ferne hallows[20] couth[21] in sundry lands;
And specially, from every shires end
Of Engeland, to Canterbury they wend,
The holy blissful martyr for to seek,
That hem hath holpen when that they were sick.
Befell that in that season on a day,
In Southwark at the Tabard[22] as I lay,
Ready to wenden on my pilgrimage
To Canterbury with full devout courage,
At night were come into that hostelry
Well nine and twenty in a company
Of sundry folk, by aventure[23] yfalle
In fellowship, and pilgrims were they all,
That toward Canterbury woulden ride.
The chambers and the stables weren wide,
And well we weren eased[24] at the best.
And shortly, when the sunne was to rest,
So had I spoken with hem evereach-one,[25]
That I was of hir fellowship anon,
And made forward[26] early for to rise
To take our way there-as I you devise.[27]
But natheless, while I have time and space,
Ere that I further in this tale pace,
Me thinketh it accordant to reason,
To tellen you all the condition
Of each of hem, so as it seemed me,
And which they weren, and of what degree,
And eke in what array that they were in:
And at a knight then will I first begin.