45

Taverners to them told the same tale,

With wine from Alsatia, from Gascony too,

From the Rhine, from Rochelle, the roast to digest.
All this I saw sleeping, and seven times more.

kind a of righ

And out of dise.

SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE

The Land of Prester John

(From Travels, Chap. XXX)

In the land of Prester John be many diverse things and many precious stones, so great and so large, that men make of them vessels, as platters, dishes, and cups. And many other marvels be there, that it were too cumbrous and too 5 long to put it in scripture of books; but of the principal isles and of his estate and of his law, I shall tell you some part.

This Emperor Prester John is Christian, and a great part of his country also. But yet, they have not all the articles They believe well in the Father, 10 of our faith as we have. in the Son, and in the Holy Ghost. And they be full devout and right true one to another. And they set not by no barretts, nor by cautels, nor of no deceits.

And he hath under him seventy-two provinces, and in 15 every province is a king. And these kings have kings under them, and all be tributaries to Prester John. And he hath in his lordships many great marvels.

For in his country is the sea that men clepe the Gravelly Sea, that is all gravel and sand, without any drop of water, 20 and it ebbeth and floweth in great waves as other seas do, And and it is never still nor in peace, in no manner season. no man may pass that sea by navy, nor by no manner of craft, and therefore may no man know what land is beyond that sea. And albeit that it have no water, yet men find 25 therein and on the banks full good fish of other manner of

water

that i

and t

in the

also

be en

lost f

runn

dare

Al

great

that

trees

dare

mid

that

so th

5

10

15

GEOFFREY CHAUCER

The Prologue

Whan that Aprille with his shoures sote
The droghte of Marche hath perced to the rote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,
And smale fowles maken melodye,
That slepen al the night with open yë,
(So priketh hem nature in hir corages);
Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
(And palmers for to seken straunge strondes)
To ferne halwes, couthe in sondry londes;
And specially, from every shires ende

Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,

The holy blisful martir for to seke,

That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seke.

When April with its sweet showers hath pierced the dryness of March to the root, and hath bathed every vein in the sort of moisture by virtue of which flowers grow; when Zephyr also with its sweet breath hath quickened the tender shoots in every wood and heath, and the young sun hath run his half-course in the Ram, and little birds make melody, that sleep all night with open eye (nature so stirs them in their hearts) then people long to go on pilgrimages (and palmers to seek strange shores) to distant shrines, known in sundry lands; and especially, from the end of every county of England to Canterbury they go, to seek the holy blessed martyr, who hath helped them when they were sick.

Ther was also a Nonne, a PRIORESSE,
That of hir smyling was ful simple and coy;
Hir gretteste ooth was but by seynt Loy,
And she was cleped madame Eglentyne.
Ful wel she song the service divyne,
Entuned in hir nose ful semely;
And Frensh she spak ful faire and fetisly,
After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe,
For Frensh of Paris was to hir unknowe.
At mete wel y-taught was she with-alle;
She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,
Ne wette hir fingres in hir sauce depe.
Wel coude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe,
That no drope ne fille up-on hir brest.
In curteisye was set ful moche hir lest.

There was a nun, a Prioress, who was very simple and quiet in her smiling; her greatest oath was only by Saint Loy, and she was called Madame Eglentyne. Very well she sang the divine service, intoned in her nose in a very seemly manner; and French she spoke well, excellently, according to the school of Stratford-at-Bowe, for Parisian French was unknown to her. She had been well taught how to eat; she let not a morsel fall from her lips, nor did she wet her fingers in her deep sauce. She could lift and hold a morsel so skilfully that not a drop fell upon her breast. Great pleasure she took in matters of breeding. Her upper

lip sh

her с she r

and

to in

wort!

was

saw

Som

milk

or if

all s

wim

gray