"For this ye knowen al-so wel as I, Who-so shal telle a tale after a man, He moot reherce, as ny as ever he can, Everich a word, if it be in his charge, Al speke he never so rudeliche and large ; Or elles he moot telle his tale untrewe, Or feyne thing, or finde wordes newe.

 WHEN April with his sweet showers hath pierced to the root the drought of March and bathed every vine in liquid the virtue of which maketh the flowers to start, &v when eke Zephirus with his sweet breath hath quickened the tender shoots in every heath and holt, and the young sun hath sped his half course in the Ram, and the little birds make their melodies and all the night sleep with open eye, so nature pricketh them in their hearts, then folk long to go on pilgrimages and palmers to seek strange shores to the far shrines of saints known in sundry lands; and especially from every shire's end of England they journey to Canterbury to visit the holy blessed Martyr, that hath helped them when they were sick