A KNIGHT there was, and that a worthy man, That from the time that he first began To riden out, he loved chivalry, Truth and honour, freedom and courtesy. Full worthy was he in his Lorde’s war, And thereto had he ridden, no man farre*, *farther As well in Christendom as in Heatheness, And ever honour’d for his worthiness At Alisandre <6> he was when it was won. Full often time he had the board begun Above alle nations in Prusse.<7> In Lettowe had he reysed,* and in Russe, *journeyed No Christian man so oft of his degree. In Grenade at the siege eke had he be Of Algesir, and ridden in Belmarie. <8> At Leyes was he, and at Satalie, When they were won; and in the Greate Sea At many a noble army had he be. At mortal battles had he been fifteen, And foughten for our faith at Tramissene. In listes thries, and aye slain his foe. This ilke* worthy knight had been also *same <9> Some time with the lord of Palatie, Against another heathen in Turkie: And evermore *he had a sovereign price*. *He was held in very And though that he was worthy he was wise, high esteem.* And of his port as meek as is a maid. He never yet no villainy ne said In all his life, unto no manner wight. He was a very perfect gentle knight. But for to telle you of his array, His horse was good, but yet he was not gay. Of fustian he weared a gipon*, *short doublet Alle *besmotter’d with his habergeon,* *soiled by his coat of mail.* For he was late y-come from his voyage, And wente for to do his pilgrimage. With him there was his son, a younge SQUIRE, A lover, and a lusty bacheler, With lockes crulle* as they were laid in press. *curled Of twenty year of age he was I guess. Of his stature he was of even length, And *wonderly deliver*, and great of strength. *wonderfully nimble* And he had been some time in chevachie*, *cavalry raids In Flanders, in Artois, and Picardie, And borne him well, *as of so little space*, *in such a short time* In hope to standen in his lady’s grace. Embroider’d was he, as it were a mead All full of freshe 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 he sit on horse, and faire ride. He coulde songes make, and well indite, Joust, and eke dance, and well pourtray and write. So hot he loved, that by nightertale* *night-time He slept no more than doth the nightingale. Courteous he was, lowly, and serviceable, And carv’d before his father at the table.<10>