Listen! We have report of the majesty of the people’s kings of the spear-wielding Danes in days of old: truly, those princes accomplished deeds of courage! Many a time Scyld Scefing dispossessed the throngs of his enemies, many nations, of their seats of feasting and struck awe into men of stature, after he had first been found, scarcely provided. For that, he was to meet with consolation: here below the skies he flourished and prospered in estimations of his worth until each one of his neighbours across the whale-traversed ocean had to obey him and yield him tribute. He was a good king.

Later an infant son was born into the world to him, whom God sent as a comfort to the people. He came to understand the tormenting distress they had once suffered, being for a long while without a leader; for this, the Lord of life, heaven’s Ruler, granted him worldly renown. Beowulf, son of Scyld—far and wide was his glory spread—was famed throughout the lands of Scandinavia. Just so ought a young man by his integrity, by generous gifts of treasure whilst in his father’s guardianship, to bring it about that later, when he is of age, willing comrades will be at hand when war comes and will support their prince. By praise-worthy actions a man will thrive in any nation.

Then at his appointed time Scyld, the man of abounding vigour, passed away, to journey into the keeping of the Lord. Those who were his dear comrades then carried him to the seashore as he had himself commanded while he, the Sheafing’s friend and lord, owned the power of speech: beloved founder of the land, he had ruled it long.

There in the harbour lay a ship with curved prow, ice-encrusted, eager to be outward bound—the prince’s vessel. So they laid the beloved king, the ring-giver, the famous man, amidships, by the mast. A great number of treasures and trappings from faraway regions was transported there. I have not heard of a ship more splendidly bedecked with weapons of war and battle garments, swords and mail-coats. Amidships lay a multitude of treasures which were to travel far away with him into the possession of the ocean. By no means did they furnish him with fewer gifts, riches from the communal treasury, than did those who in the first place had sent him forth alone across the waves, being still an infant. Furthermore, they set up a golden standard high above his head; they let the sea bear him off, and gave him over to the icy ocean. Their spirit was melancholy, their heart grieving within them. Those men who dispense wisdom in the hall, worthies here below the heavens, were unable to say in truth who received the cargo.

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, 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.

It befell on a day in that season, as I rested at the Tabard in Southwark, ready to wend on my pilgrimage to Canterbury, with heart full devout, that at night there was come into that hostel a company of sundry folk, full nine and twenty, by chance fallen in fellowship, and all were pilgrims that would ride toward Canterbury. The chambers and stables were spacious, and fairly were we entertained; and in brief, when the sun was at rest, I had so spoken with every one of them that anon I was of their fellowship, and made agreement to rise early and take our way whither I told you.

Natheless, while I have time and space, ere I pass farther in this tale, methinketh it reasonable to tell you all the character of each of them, as it seemed to me, what folk they were, and of what estate, and eke in what accoutrement; and first, then, I will begin with a knight.

A Knight—a worthy man—there was, that since the time when first he rode out, loved chivalry, truth and honour, courtesy and liberality. Full valiant he was in battle for his lord, and eke had ridden, no man farther, in Christendom and heathenesse; and ever was honoured for his valour. He was at Alexandria when it was won. Full many a time in Prussia he had sat first at board above all the nations. In Lithuania he had warred and in Russia, no Christian of his degree so oft. In Granada eke he had been at the siege of Algezir and ridden into Belmarye. He was at Satalye and Lyeys when they were won; and in the Great Sea he had been with many a noble army. He had been at fifteen mortal battles, and fought for our faith thrice in the lists at Tramissene, and aye slain his foe. This same worthy Knight eke had fought once for the lord of Palatye against another heathen host in Turkey. And evermore he had a sovereign repute. And though he was valorous, he was wise, and as meek of his bearing as a maid. He never yet in all his life spake discourtesy to any manner of man. He was a very perfect gentle knight. But to tell you of his accoutrement, his horses were good, but he was not gaily clad. He wore a tunic of fustian, all rust-stained by his coat of mail; for he was lately come from his travel, and went to make his pilgrimage.