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1. The Physician’s Tale
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Here follows the Physician’s Tale
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There was, or so says Titus Livius,
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A knight, who was named Virginius,
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Filled with all honour and nobility,
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Rich in friends he was, and as wealthy.
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This knight had a daughter by his wife;
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He’d had no other child throughout his life.
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Fair was this maid, of outstanding beauty
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Beyond all others whom a man might see;
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For Nature had with sovereign diligence
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Created her of such great excellence
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As if to say: ‘Behold how, I, Nature,
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Thus can form and tint a living creature
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When I so choose! Who can this counterfeit?
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Not Pygmalion, though he forge and beat,
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And carve and paint, nor, I would maintain,
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Apelles, Zeuxis who would work in vain
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If they should carve, and paint, and forge, and beat,
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Presuming to create a counterfeit.
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For the Maker, and the Principal,
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Appointed me his Vicar-General
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To form and fashion earthly creatures
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As I wish: all things are in my power
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Under the moon that doth wane and wax,
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And for my work no payment do I ask;
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My Lord and I are both of one accord.
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I made her to the honour of my Lord;
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So I do with all my other creatures,
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Whatever hue they have, or features.’
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– Thus it seems to me Nature should say.
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Fourteen years of age was then this maid,
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In whom Nature took such great delight;
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For just as she can paint the lily white,
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And red the rose, just then such a picture
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Had she painted in this noble creature,
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Ere she was born, tinting her limbs free,
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Wherever the colour should rightly be.
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And Phoebus dyed her tresses all complete,
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Like to the streams of his burnished heat.
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And if she was excellent in beauty,
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A thousand times more virtuous was she.
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Within her there was lacking no condition
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To draw praise from people of discretion.
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As much in soul as body chaste was she,
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So that she flowered in her virginity
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With true humility and abstinence,
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With true temperance and with patience,
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Restrained in her behaviour and array.
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Discreet she was in answering, always,
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Though she was wise as Pallas, I dare say;
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Her eloquence womanly, without display;
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No affected language ever did she
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Employ to seem wise, but in her degree
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She spoke, and all her words, great and less,
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Conducive were to virtue and gentleness.
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Modest she was, in her maiden chasteness,
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Constant in heart, and in action tireless
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Not wishing to be thought idle, lazy.
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Bacchus had of her mouth no mastery;
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For wine and youth do Venus’ works increase,
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Like a fire on which men cast oil or grease.
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And of her own virtue, unconstrained,
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She had many times an illness feigned,
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So that she might flee the company
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When there was likelihood of foolery,
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As at a feast, a revel, or a dance
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Which are occasions oft for dalliance.
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Such things indeed may make our daughters be
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Ripe and bold too soon, as men may see,
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Dangerously so, as has been known before;
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For all too soon they practice more and more
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Their boldness, when they seek to play the wife.
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And you fair mistresses, in later life,
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Who have lords’ daughters in your governance –
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Be not offended by my words, perchance –
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Consider, you’ve been set to governing
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Lords’ daughters for one of two things:
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Either because you kept your chastity,
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Or else because you fell, from frailty,
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And know it well enough, the ancient dance,
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And have forsaken fully such mischance
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For evermore; therefore, for Christ’s sake,
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Teach them virtue now, and make no mistake.
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A poacher of venison who is long past
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His guilty acts, and leaves off his old craft
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Makes the best gamekeeper of any man.
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So guard them well, for if you wish you can.
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Be careful that to no vice you assent,
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Lest you be dammed for your foul intent;
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For one who shall, a traitor is, for certain.
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And take good note of all that I shall say:
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Of all treasons, the crowning pestilence
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Is when an act betrays pure innocence.
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You fathers, and you mothers too, also,
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Whether you have one child or more, know
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You’re responsible for their surveillance
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While they remain within your governance.
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Beware then, lest, by your mode of living,
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Or by your negligence in chastising,
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They perish by your example; I dare say
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If they do so, then shall you dearly pay.
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Under a shepherd slack and negligent
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The wolf will many a sheep and lamb have rent.
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Let that one example suffice me here,
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For I must turn again to my true matter.
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This maid, the tale of whom I now express,
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Governing herself, needed no mistresses.
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In her mode of life, maidens might read,
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As in a book, every good word or deed
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That belongs to such a maiden virtuous,
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So prudent she, so meritorious,
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Such that her fame was known on every side,
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That of her beauty and her goodness, wide
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Throughout the land, praised by everyone
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Who loved virtue, save the envious alone,
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For Envy is grieved by other men’s wealth,
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And glad of their sorrow, and of their ill-health –
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Augustine is the source of that description.
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This maid upon a day went into town
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Towards a temple, with her mother dear,
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As is the manner of young maidens here.
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Now, there was then a justice in that town
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Governor of the region all around;
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And it befell, that the judge his eyes cast
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Upon this maid, his gaze there held fast,
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As she passed the place in which he stood.
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Anon his heart changed and his mood.
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So caught was he by the beauty of this maid.
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And to himself all secretly he said:
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‘This maid shall be mine, before any man!’
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Anon the devil into his heart now ran,
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And taught him swiftly that by some sleight
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Of hand, he the maid to his purpose might
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Win, for through force or bribery indeed
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He saw no way in which he might succeed,
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For she was rich in friends, and also she
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Was so confirmed in her virtuous duty,
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That he knew well he might never win
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Her mind or body to indulge in sin.
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So after deliberating, casting round,
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He sent for a rogue living in the town,
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Whom he knew was subtle and was bold.
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The justice to this rogue his tale told,
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In secrecy, and told him to be sure
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Never to tell it to another creature,
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For if he did, he would lose his head.
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When the cursed reed had thus assented,
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The judge was glad, and gave him good cheer,
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And gifts as well, gifts both precious and dear.
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When shaped was all their conspiracy
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In every detail, how his lechery
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Was to be satisfied full subtly –
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As you shall hear soon, and openly –
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Home went the rogue, his name was Claudius.
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The false judge, whose name was Appius –
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Such was his name, for this is no fable,
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But is known to history, and notable;
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The substance of it, true, without a doubt –
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This false judge now went fast about
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To hurry on his crime as best he may.
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And it befell, soon after, on a day,
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The false justice, for so says the story,
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As was his right, playing judge and jury,
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Was giving his judgement in another case.
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The false rogue rushed in on him apace,
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And said: ‘Lord, if it might be your will,
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Grant me my rights regarding this true bill,
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A bill of complaint against Virginius.
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And if he denies that things are thus,
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I will prove them so, and find good witness
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The truth is as my bill doth here express’
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The judge replied: ‘In the defendant’s absence
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I cannot bring this new case to sentence.
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Summon him, then you I’ll gladly hear;
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You shall have justice, not injustice here.’
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Virginius came, to learn the judge’s will,
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And right anon was read the cursed bill.
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The content of it was as you shall hear:
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‘To you, my lord Sir Appius so dear,
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Declares your humble servant Claudius
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That a knight, named here, Virginius,
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Against the law, against all equity,
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Holds, and against my will, most expressly,
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My servant, one who is my thrall by right,
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One that was stolen from my house by night
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When she was very young; this will I prove
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By witnesses, my lord, if you approve.
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She’s not his child, whatever he may say.
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Wherefore to you, my lord the judge, I say,
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Yield me my thrall now, if it be your will!’
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Lo, this was all the content of his bill.
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Virginius stared in horror at the rogue;
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But swiftly, before his tale could be told,
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And he reveal the truth, as a knight,
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Call witnesses to demonstrate his right,
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And show the falseness of his adversary,
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The cursed judge who would no longer tarry,
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Nor hear a word more from Virginius,
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Issued his judgement and declared it thus:
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‘This man shall have his servant, I rule so.
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You shall no longer keep her, you must go
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And bring her forth, and make her now our ward.
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The man shall have his thrall, so I award.’
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And when this worthy knight Virginius,
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Heard the decree of this judge, Appius,
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That he by force must his dear daughter give
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Up to the judge, in lechery to live,
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He went back home, and sat down in his hall,
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And anon had them his daughter call;
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And with a face dead as ashes cold
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Her humble face did silently behold,
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A father’s pity striking through his heart,
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Yet from his purpose he could not depart.
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‘Daughter,’ quoth he, ‘Virginia, by thy name,
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There are two ways before you, death or shame,
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One you must suffer – alas, that I was born!
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For you have not deserved this evil morn,
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Yet must you die by sword or by the knife.
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O dear daughter, ender of my life,
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Whom I have nurtured with such joyous glance
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You were never out of my remembrance,
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O daughter, you who are my final woe,
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And of my life are my last joy also,
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O gem of chastity, with quiet patience
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Embrace your death: such is my sentence.
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For love, not hate, I would have you dead;
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My pitying hand must strike off your head.
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Alas, that ever Appius saw your face!
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That is why he falsely judged the case’ –
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He told her all the tale you’ve heard before.
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No need for me to tell you of it more.
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‘O mercy, dear father!’ quoth the maid,
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And with that both her arms she laid
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About his neck, as she was wont to do.
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The tears burst from her eyes, anew,
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‘Good father,’ she cried, ‘is it death for me?
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Is there no grace? Is there no remedy?’
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‘No, none, dear daughter mine,’ quoth he.
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‘Then give me time, father mine,’ quoth she.
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‘To lament my death a little space.
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For Jephtha he gave his daughter grace,
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To lament before he slew her, alas!
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And God knows she committed no trespass,
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But ran, the first her father chanced to see,
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To welcome him with great solemnity.’
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And with these words she swooned anon.
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And after, when her faintness was all gone,
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She arose, and to her father said:
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‘Blessed be God that I shall die a maid!
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Grant me death, before I come to shame.
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Do with your child as you will, in God’s name!’
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After those words she begged him full oft,
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That with his sword he would smite soft;
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And then again she fainted and lay still.
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Her father with a sorrowful heart and will,
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Struck off her head, gripped the hair, and went
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To seek the judge, so as to present
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Her head to him, being judge and jury,
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And when the judge saw it, says the story,
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He bade men to take and hang him fast.
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But right anon a thousand people passed
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Into the yard, to save the knight, for pity,
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Since all was known of this false iniquity.
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The people had suspicions that the thing,
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From the way in which the rogue sought to bring
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His charge, had the consent of Appius;
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They knew too that he was lecherous.
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And so to seek this Appius had they gone,
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To throw him into prison right anon,
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Where he slew himself; and Claudius,
|
|
270
|
|
|
Who was the servant to this Appius,
|
|
271
|
|
|
Was sentenced to hang upon a tree,
|
|
272
|
|
|
But Virginius, out of clemency,
|
|
273
|
|
|
Prayed that instead he might be exiled;
|
|
274
|
|
|
Or else for sure he would have died reviled.
|
|
275
|
|
|
The rest were hanged, the greater and the less,
|
|
276
|
|
|
Who were accessories to this wickedness.
|
| |
|
277
|
|
|
Here may men see how sin receives its due!
|
|
278
|
|
|
Beware, no man knows what rank or who
|
|
279
|
|
|
God will smite, nor in what manner or wise;
|
|
280
|
|
|
The worm of conscience may yet arise
|
|
281
|
|
|
Against the wicked life, though secretly
|
|
282
|
|
|
So no man knows of it but God and he.
|
|
283
|
|
|
For be he illiterate or be he learned,
|
|
284
|
|
|
He knows not how soon the blow is earned.
|
|
285
|
|
|
Therefore I advise you this counsel take:
|
|
286
|
|
|
Forsake sin, before sin may you forsake.
|
| |
|
287
|
|
|
Here ends the Physician’s Tale
|
| |
| |
|
2. The Physician-Pardoner Link
|
|
0
|
|
|
The words of the Host to the Physician and the Pardoner
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
Our Host began to swear as he were mad;
|
|
2
|
|
|
‘By nails and blood,’ quoth he, ‘your tale is sad!
|
|
3
|
|
|
This was a false rogue and a false assize!
|
|
4
|
|
|
As shameful a death as heart may devise
|
|
5
|
|
|
Come to these judges and their advocates!
|
|
6
|
|
|
And yet this faultless maid has met her fate!
|
|
7
|
|
|
Alas, too dearly did she buy her beauty!
|
|
8
|
|
|
Wherefore I always say that men may see
|
|
9
|
|
|
That the gifts of Fortune and of Nature
|
|
10
|
|
|
Have caused the death of many a creature.
|
|
11
|
|
|
From both the gifts that I spoke of now
|
|
12
|
|
|
Man often has more harm than good I vow.
|
| |
|
13
|
|
|
‘But truly now, my own master dear,
|
|
14
|
|
|
That was indeed a piteous tale to hear!
|
|
15
|
|
|
And to pass on, now, is scarce a curse.
|
|
16
|
|
|
I pray, God bless your noble person, first,
|
|
17
|
|
|
Your glass urinals, and sundry vessels,
|
|
18
|
|
|
Your hippocras too, and your cordials,
|
|
19
|
|
|
And every box of your apothecary’s –
|
|
20
|
|
|
God bless them, and our Lady Saint Mary!
|
|
21
|
|
|
For, may I prosper, you’re a proper man,
|
|
22
|
|
|
And like a prelate, by Saint Ronian!
|
|
23
|
|
|
Say I not well? I cannot use your terms
|
|
24
|
|
|
But I know you gave my heart such a turn,
|
|
25
|
|
|
That I have almost caught a cardiacle.
|
|
26
|
|
|
By God’s bones, unless I dose a little,
|
|
27
|
|
|
Or drink a draught of moist and malted ale,
|
|
28
|
|
|
Or hear anon a somewhat merrier tale,
|
|
29
|
|
|
My heart is lost for pity of this maid!
|
|
30
|
|
|
You bel ami, you, Pardoner,’ he said,
|
|
31
|
|
|
‘Give us some mirth or jest now, right anon.’
|
| |
|
32
|
|
|
‘It shall be done,’ quoth he, ‘by Saint Ronian.
|
|
33
|
|
|
Yet first,’ quoth he, ‘here at this inn’s ale-stake,
|
|
34
|
|
|
I will both drink and eat a piece of cake.’
|
|
35
|
|
|
But now from the gentlefolk there rose a plea:
|
|
36
|
|
|
‘Nay let him tell us no obscenities!
|
|
37
|
|
|
Tell us some moral thing, let there appear
|
|
38
|
|
|
Some wisdom, and then we will gladly hear.’
|
| |
|
39
|
|
|
‘Granted, indeed,’ quoth he, ‘but I must think
|
|
40
|
|
|
Of some decorous thing while I go drink.’
|
| |
| |
|
3. The Pardoner’s Prologue
|
|
0
|
|
|
Here follows the Prologue to the Pardoner’s Tale
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
Radix malorum est Cupiditas:
|
|
2
|
|
|
For the love of money is the root of all evil.
|
|
3
|
|
|
(1 Timothy 6:10)
|
| |
|
4
|
|
|
‘Lordings,’ quoth he, ‘in churches when I preach,
|
|
5
|
|
|
I take great pains to make a forceful speech,
|
|
6
|
|
|
And ring it out as soundly as a bell,
|
|
7
|
|
|
For I know all by rote, the tale I tell.
|
|
8
|
|
|
My theme is ever one, and always was:
|
|
9
|
|
|
“Radix malorum est cupiditas.”
|
| |
|
10
|
|
|
First I pronounce from whence it is I come,
|
|
11
|
|
|
And then my bulls I show them, all and some.
|
|
12
|
|
|
Our liege lord’s seal is upon my patent
|
|
13
|
|
|
That I show first, as my bodily warrant,
|
|
14
|
|
|
So that none’s so bold, priest nor clerk,
|
|
15
|
|
|
As to disturb me in Christ’s holy work,
|
|
16
|
|
|
And after that, then I tell forth my tales.
|
|
17
|
|
|
Bulls of the popes and of cardinals,
|
|
18
|
|
|
Of patriarchs and bishops too, they view,
|
|
19
|
|
|
And in Latin I speak a word or two,
|
|
20
|
|
|
To season, as with saffron, declamation,
|
|
21
|
|
|
And stir them to reveal all their devotion.
|
|
22
|
|
|
Then I show forth my large crystal flagons,
|
|
23
|
|
|
Crammed full to the top with rags and bones;
|
|
24
|
|
|
Relics they are, adored by everyone.
|
|
25
|
|
|
Then I have in brass a shoulder-bone,
|
|
26
|
|
|
Belong to a holy Jew’s dead sheep.
|
|
27
|
|
|
“Good men,” say I, “note of my words now keep:
|
|
28
|
|
|
If that this bone be washed in any well,
|
|
29
|
|
|
If cow, or calf, or sheep, or ox should swell
|
|
30
|
|
|
That any worm has eat, or snake has stung,
|
|
31
|
|
|
Take water from that well and wash its tongue,
|
|
32
|
|
|
It will be whole anon; and furthermore,
|
|
33
|
|
|
Of pox and scabs and every other sore
|
|
34
|
|
|
Shall every sheep be whole that of this well
|
|
35
|
|
|
Drinks a draught. Take note of what I tell:
|
|
36
|
|
|
If the good man that the beasts do follow
|
|
37
|
|
|
Shall every week, before the cockerels crow,
|
|
38
|
|
|
Fasting too, drink of this well a draught,
|
|
39
|
|
|
As this holy Jew our elders taught,
|
|
40
|
|
|
His beasts and his stock will fruitful be.
|
| |
|
41
|
|
|
And, sires, also it heals the jealousy;
|
|
42
|
|
|
For though a man descend to jealous rage,
|
|
43
|
|
|
Let him add this water to his pottage,
|
|
44
|
|
|
And nevermore shall he mistrust his wife,
|
|
45
|
|
|
Though the truth of all her sin be rife,
|
|
46
|
|
|
And even though she’s had a priest or three.
|
| |
|
47
|
|
|
Here is a mitten too, as you can see;
|
|
48
|
|
|
He that his hand will put inside this mitten,
|
|
49
|
|
|
His grain shall multiply, as it were written,
|
|
50
|
|
|
Where he has sown, whether it’s wheat or oats,
|
|
51
|
|
|
If he makes offering of pence or groats.
|
| |
|
52
|
|
|
Good men and women, one thing though I vow;
|
|
53
|
|
|
If anyone is in this church right now
|
|
54
|
|
|
Who has done dreadful things, that he
|
|
55
|
|
|
Dare not, for shame of it, confess to me,
|
|
56
|
|
|
Or any woman, be she young or old,
|
|
57
|
|
|
Who has made of her husband a cuckold,
|
|
58
|
|
|
Such folk shall have no power and no grace
|
|
59
|
|
|
To make offering to my relics in this place.
|
|
60
|
|
|
And whoever’s free of all such blame,
|
|
61
|
|
|
May come and make an offering, in God’s name,
|
|
62
|
|
|
And I absolve them, by the authority
|
|
63
|
|
|
This papal bull has granted unto me.”
|
| |
|
64
|
|
|
By this trick have I gained, year on year,
|
|
65
|
|
|
A hundred marks since I made Pardoner.
|
|
66
|
|
|
I stand like a cleric in my pulpit,
|
|
67
|
|
|
And after the unlettered people sit,
|
|
68
|
|
|
I preach thus as you have heard before,
|
|
69
|
|
|
And tell a hundred false stories more.
|
|
70
|
|
|
Then I take to stretching forth my neck,
|
|
71
|
|
|
And east and west nod with due effect,
|
|
72
|
|
|
Just like a dove sitting on a barn.
|
|
73
|
|
|
My hands and tongue then work so hard
|
|
74
|
|
|
That it is a joy to view the business.
|
|
75
|
|
|
Of avarice and all such wickedness
|
|
76
|
|
|
Is all my preaching, thus to set them free
|
|
77
|
|
|
To give their pence, and namely, unto me.
|
|
78
|
|
|
For my intent is only gain to win,
|
|
79
|
|
|
Not to correct them when they chance to sin.
|
|
80
|
|
|
For I care nothing, at their burying,
|
|
81
|
|
|
Whether their souls have gone blackberrying!
|
|
82
|
|
|
And certainly, many a declamation
|
|
83
|
|
|
Arises oftentime from ill intention:
|
|
84
|
|
|
Sometime to pleasure folk with flattery,
|
|
85
|
|
|
And gain advantage through hypocrisy,
|
|
86
|
|
|
Sometimes for vainglory, sometimes hate.
|
|
87
|
|
|
For when I dare not otherwise debate,
|
|
88
|
|
|
I’ll sting him with my tongue and sharp
|
|
89
|
|
|
Preaching, so that he’ll not flee far
|
|
90
|
|
|
From false slander, if it seems that he
|
|
91
|
|
|
Has offended my brethren now, or me.
|
|
92
|
|
|
For though I never speak his proper name,
|
|
93
|
|
|
Men shall know the person, all the same,
|
|
94
|
|
|
By signs and by other circumstances.
|
|
95
|
|
|
Thus I pay out folk who lead us dances;
|
|
96
|
|
|
Thus I spit out my venom with the hue
|
|
97
|
|
|
Of holiness, to seem holy still and true.
|
| |
|
98
|
|
|
But briefly my intent I here confess:
|
|
99
|
|
|
I preach, but only out of covetousness.
|
|
100
|
|
|
Therefore my theme is now, and ever was:
|
|
101
|
|
|
“Radix malorum est cupiditas.”
|
|
102
|
|
|
Thus do I preach against the very vice
|
|
103
|
|
|
I too indulge in, which is avarice.
|
|
104
|
|
|
Though I myself am guilty of that sin,
|
|
105
|
|
|
Yet I have power these other folk to win
|
|
106
|
|
|
From avarice, and bitterly to repent.
|
|
107
|
|
|
Yet that is not my principal intent;
|
|
108
|
|
|
I preach only out of covetousness.
|
|
109
|
|
|
Enough now of that subject, I suggest.
|
| |
|
110
|
|
|
Then I give examples many a one
|
|
111
|
|
|
Out of old stories from the times long gone.
|
|
112
|
|
|
For unlettered people love the tales of old;
|
|
113
|
|
|
Such things they can repeat, their minds can hold.
|
|
114
|
|
|
What! Think you, that while I can preach,
|
|
115
|
|
|
And gain gold and silver as I teach,
|
|
116
|
|
|
I would live in poverty wilfully?
|
|
117
|
|
|
Nay, nay, I’ve never thought so, truly!
|
|
118
|
|
|
For I can preach and beg in sundry lands.
|
|
119
|
|
|
I need never labour with my hands,
|
|
120
|
|
|
Nor make baskets, just to make a living,
|
|
121
|
|
|
Since not un-fruitfully I can go begging;
|
|
122
|
|
|
None of the apostles shall I counterfeit.
|
|
123
|
|
|
I must have money, wool, cheese and wheat,
|
|
124
|
|
|
Though it were given by the poorest page
|
|
125
|
|
|
Or the poorest widow in some village,
|
|
126
|
|
|
Though her children starve from famine.
|
|
127
|
|
|
Nay, I must drink the liquor of the vine,
|
|
128
|
|
|
And have a jolly wench in every town!
|
| |
|
129
|
|
|
But hearken, lordings, in conclusion now:
|
|
130
|
|
|
Your pleasure is that I should tell a tale.
|
|
131
|
|
|
Now I have drunk a draught of malted ale,
|
|
132
|
|
|
By God, I hope to tell you of a thing
|
|
133
|
|
|
That shall with reason be to your liking!
|
|
134
|
|
|
For though myself I am a sinful man,
|
|
135
|
|
|
Tell you a moral tale? Well, that I can:
|
|
136
|
|
|
One that I am wont to preach for gain.
|
|
137
|
|
|
Now hold your peace; and I’ll begin again.’
|
| |
| |
| |
|
4. The Pardoner’s Tale
|
|
0
|
|
|
Here begins the Pardoner’s Tale
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
In Flanders once there was a company
|
|
2
|
|
|
Of younger folk given all to folly,
|
|
3
|
|
|
Such as riot, gambling, brothels, taverns,
|
|
4
|
|
|
Where to the harps and lutes, and to citherns,
|
|
5
|
|
|
They danced, and played at dice both day and night,
|
|
6
|
|
|
And ate and drank more than wise men might,
|
|
7
|
|
|
Offering thereby the devil sacrifice
|
|
8
|
|
|
Within that devil’s temple of cursed vice,
|
|
9
|
|
|
With superfluity abominable.
|
|
10
|
|
|
Their oaths were so great and damnable
|
|
11
|
|
|
That it was terrible to hear them swear;
|
|
12
|
|
|
Our blessed Lord’s body thus they’d tear –
|
|
13
|
|
|
As though the Jews had not torn him enough –
|
|
14
|
|
|
And each of them at other sinners laughed.
|
|
15
|
|
|
And then anon came female tumblers,
|
|
16
|
|
|
Slender and elegant, young fruiterers,
|
|
17
|
|
|
Singers with harps, bawds, wafer-sellers,
|
|
18
|
|
|
Who are the devil’s very own officers,
|
|
19
|
|
|
To kindle and blow the fire of lechery,
|
|
20
|
|
|
Which is annexed indeed to gluttony.
|
|
21
|
|
|
The Holy Writ I take now as my witness
|
|
22
|
|
|
There’s lechery in wine and drunkenness.
|
| |
|
23
|
|
|
See, how your drunken Lot unnaturally
|
|
24
|
|
|
Lay with his two daughters, unknowingly;
|
|
25
|
|
|
So drunk was he, he knew not what he wrought.
|
|
26
|
|
|
Herod, whoever of the tale knows aught,
|
|
27
|
|
|
When he was replete with wine at a feast,
|
|
28
|
|
|
At his own table ordered, like any beast,
|
|
29
|
|
|
The slaying of John the Baptist, guiltless.
|
|
30
|
|
|
Seneca too says a good thing, doubtless:
|
|
31
|
|
|
He says, there’s no difference he can find
|
|
32
|
|
|
Between some fellow who has lost his mind
|
|
33
|
|
|
And one who is a drunkard through and through,
|
|
34
|
|
|
But says that madness, when it overcomes you
|
|
35
|
|
|
Lasts longer than does ever drunkenness.
|
|
36
|
|
|
O gluttony, so full of wickedness!
|
|
37
|
|
|
O thou reason for our first confusion!
|
|
38
|
|
|
O original cause of our damnation,
|
|
39
|
|
|
Till Christ bought us with his blood again!
|
|
40
|
|
|
See, how costly, briefly to explain,
|
|
41
|
|
|
The payment for that cursed villainy;
|
|
42
|
|
|
Corrupted was this world by gluttony.
|
| |
|
43
|
|
|
Adam our father, and his wife also,
|
|
44
|
|
|
From Paradise, to labour and to woe,
|
|
45
|
|
|
Were driven for that vice, it’s so indeed.
|
|
46
|
|
|
For while Adam fasted, as I read,
|
|
47
|
|
|
He was in Paradise, and when he
|
|
48
|
|
|
Ate the forbidden fruit from the tree,
|
|
49
|
|
|
Then he was cast out to woe and pain.
|
|
50
|
|
|
O gluttony, of whom we should complain!
|
|
51
|
|
|
O, if men knew how many maladies
|
|
52
|
|
|
Follow from excess and gluttony,
|
|
53
|
|
|
They would be more temperate and careful
|
|
54
|
|
|
In their diet, when they sit at table.
|
|
55
|
|
|
Alas, the narrow throat, the tender mouth
|
|
56
|
|
|
Mean men east and west, and north and south,
|
|
57
|
|
|
In earth, air, water, labour, as I think,
|
|
58
|
|
|
Simply to bring a glutton food and drink!
|
|
59
|
|
|
Of this matter, O Paul, you also treat:
|
|
60
|
|
|
‘Meat for the belly, and the belly for the meat,
|
|
61
|
|
|
But God shall destroy both.’ So Paul says.
|
|
62
|
|
|
Alas, a foul thing it is, by my faith,
|
|
63
|
|
|
To speak the word, and fouler is the deed,
|
|
64
|
|
|
When man so drinks of white and red indeed,
|
|
65
|
|
|
That of his throat he makes his privy
|
|
66
|
|
|
By reason of cursed superfluity.
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67
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The Apostle says, whom weeping softens:
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68
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‘For many walk, of whom I’ve told you often,
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69
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And now tell you, even weeping, that they
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70
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Are enemies of the cross of Christ always:
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71
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Whose ending is destruction, and whose God
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72
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Is their belly!’ O womb, O stinking pod,
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73
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Filled full with dung and with corruption,
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74
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At either end, foul is the eruption!
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75
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What labour and cost it is your meat to find!
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76
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These cooks, how they stamp and strain and grind,
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77
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To turn God’s substance into accident,
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78
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To quench your avid lust, by their talent.
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79
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Out of the hard bone the marrow they
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80
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Knock, for nothing of it is thrown away
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81
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That softly, sweetly may the gullet suit.
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82
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Spices of every leaf, and bark, and root
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83
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Shall help to make the sauces of delight
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84
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That feed again a newer appetite.
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85
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And surely he who lives on such spices
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86
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Is dead, while he lives among these vices.
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87
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A lecherous thing is wine, and drunkenness
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88
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Is full of strife and of wretchedness.
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89
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O drunken man, disfigured is your face,
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90
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Sour is your breath, and foul is your embrace!
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91
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And through your nose issues a dull tone
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92
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As though you said: ‘Sampson, Sampson’.
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93
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– And yet, God knows, Sampson drank no wine.
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94
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You fall to the ground like a fresh-stuck swine;
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95
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Your tongue is lost, and every decent care,
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96
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For drunkenness is the very sepulchre
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97
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Of a man’s reason and discretion.
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98
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He, over whom drink has domination,
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99
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Can keep no counsel, as is truly said.
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100
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So keep you from the white and from the red,
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101
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The white from Lepé, Spain, then, set aside
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102
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That they sell in Fish Street and Cheapside!
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103
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That wine of Spain creeps most subtly, ay,
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104
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Into the other wines they cask nearby,
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105
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From which there rises such fumosity
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106
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That when a man has drunk of glasses three,
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107
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And thinks himself at home in Cheapside,
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108
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Yet he in Spain, in Lepé town, will abide –
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109
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Not at La Rochelle, nor in Bordeaux’s sun –
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110
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And then he will drone out: ‘Sampson, Sampson.’
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111
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But hearken, lordings, one word more I pray,
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112
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Know the sovereign acts, all, I dare say,
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113
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Of victory in the entire Old Testament,
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114
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Won through God who is omnipotent,
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115
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Were won in abstinence and prayer.
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116
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Look to your Bible, and find it there.
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117
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Look at Attila, the great conqueror,
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118
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Dead in his sleep, in shame and dishonour,
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119
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Bleeding from his nose in drunkenness;
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120
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A general should be sober, I’d suggest!
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121
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Moreover, consider now right well,
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122
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What was commanded of Lemuel –
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123
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Not Samuel, but Lemuel say I –
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124
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Read your Bible, see there if I lie,
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125
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On wining those with whom justice lies.
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126
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No more of this, let my words suffice.
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127
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And now that I have spoken of gluttony,
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128
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Now will I warn you about gambling’s lottery.
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129
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Gambling’s the very mother of lying,
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130
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And of deceit and cursed forswearing,
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131
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Blaspheming Christ, manslaughter, waste also
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132
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Of property and time, and further know,
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133
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It is shame and contrary to honour,
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134
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To be known as a common gambler,
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135
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And ever the higher his estate,
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136
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The more is he shunned and desolate.
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137
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If a prince choose to play the lottery,
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138
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In all his governance and policy,
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139
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He is held, by common opinion,
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140
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As the last of all in reputation.
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| |
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141
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Stilbon, who was a wise ambassador,
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142
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Was sent to Corinth, with all honour,
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143
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From Lacadaemon, to make alliance,
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144
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And on arrival, it occurred by chance
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145
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That all the greatest men of that land
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146
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He found gambling, with the die in hand.
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147
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So, as soon as might reasonably be,
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148
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He stole home again to his own country,
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149
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And said: ‘There I’ll not lose my name,
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150
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Nor will I take on me so great a shame
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151
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As to ally you with all these gamblers.
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152
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Send some other wise ambassadors;
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153
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For, in truth, indeed, I’d rather die
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154
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Than I should you to gamblers ally.
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155
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You who are so glorious in honours
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156
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Shall not ally yourselves with gamblers
|
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157
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By any will of mine, nor any treaty.’
|
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158
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That wise philosopher, so said he.
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| |
|
159
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Look also to that King Demetrius:
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160
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The King of Parthia, as books tell us,
|
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161
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Sent him a pair of golden dice in scorn,
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162
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Since he’d shown as a gambler before;
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163
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For which reason his glory and renown
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164
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He valued naught, nor his reputation.
|
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165
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Lords can find other, better ways to play
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166
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Honest enough to pass the day away.
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| |
|
167
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Now will I speak of oaths false and great
|
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168
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A word or two, as the old books treat.
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169
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Swearing is a thing abominable,
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170
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And perjury is even more objectionable.
|
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171
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God on high forbade swearing at all;
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172
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Witness Matthew, but you may recall
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173
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That to which Jeremiah gave breath:
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174
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‘And thou shalt swear, as the Lord liveth,
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175
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In truth, in judgement, and in righteousness.’
|
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176
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But idle swearing is pure wickedness.
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177
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Behold and see, how in the first table
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178
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Of God’s commandments honourable,
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179
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The third commandment was written plain:
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180
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‘Thou shalt not take the Lord’s name in vain.’
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181
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See how He rather forbade such swearing
|
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182
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Before homicide, and other cursed things!
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183
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I say that higher in the list it stands;
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184
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This they know who know His commands,
|
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185
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|
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That God’s third commandment is that.
|
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186
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And moreover, I will tell you flat
|
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187
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|
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That vengeance shall fall on all his house
|
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188
|
|
|
Whose oaths and swearing are outrageous.
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189
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|
‘By God’s precious heart, and by his nails,
|
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190
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And by the blood of Christ that is at Hailes,
|
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191
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Seven’s my number, yours is five and three!
|
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192
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By God’s arms, if you play false with me,
|
|
193
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|
|
This sharp dagger through your heart shall go!’
|
|
194
|
|
|
Such is the fruit of those two cursed bones:
|
|
195
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|
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Perjury, anger, cheating, homicide.
|
|
196
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|
|
Now, for the love of Jesus Christ who died
|
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197
|
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For us, leave off your oaths, great or small.
|
|
198
|
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But sires, now of my tale will I tell all.
|
| |
|
199
|
|
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These three profligates of whom I tell,
|
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200
|
|
|
Long before prime rang out from any bell,
|
|
201
|
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|
Had sat down in a tavern for a drink.
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202
|
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And as they sat, they heard a bell clink
|
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203
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Before a coffin carried to the grave.
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204
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Then one of them called to his knave:
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205
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‘Go quickly,’ quoth he, ‘and ask reply
|
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206
|
|
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As to whose corpse this is passing by;
|
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207
|
|
|
And remember the name aright, as well.’
|
| |
|
208
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‘Sire,’ quoth the boy, ‘no need that they tell;
|
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209
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I heard it before you came these two hours,
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210
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|
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He was, in truth, an old friend of yours,
|
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211
|
|
|
Who was suddenly slain the other night,
|
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212
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Drunk, as he lay upon his bench upright.
|
|
213
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|
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There came a sly thief whom men call Death,
|
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214
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|
|
Who in this country steals people’s breath,
|
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215
|
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|
And with his spear his heart he smote so,
|
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216
|
|
|
And on his way without a word did go.
|
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217
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|
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He slew a thousand with the pestilence.
|
|
218
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|
|
And, master, ere you reach his presence,
|
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219
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|
|
I think it very wise and necessary
|
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220
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|
|
To be wary of such an adversary.
|
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221
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|
Be ready to meet him at every door –
|
|
222
|
|
|
So my mother taught me; now, no more.’
|
| |
|
223
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|
‘By Saint Mary!’ said the innkeeper,
|
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224
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|
|
‘The child is right, for he has slain this year,
|
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225
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|
|
Barely a mile from here, in a large village,
|
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226
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|
|
Men and women, children, serfs at tillage.
|
|
227
|
|
|
I think his habitation must be there.
|
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228
|
|
|
It would be wise indeed to take care,
|
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229
|
|
|
Lest he should do a man dishonour.’
|
| |
|
230
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|
|
‘What, God’s arms,’ quoth the reveller,
|
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231
|
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|
‘Is it so perilous then with him to meet?
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232
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I’ll seek him on the highway, in the street,
|
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233
|
|
|
I make this vow by God’s noble bones!
|
|
234
|
|
|
Hearken, friends, we three are all as one:
|
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235
|
|
|
Let each man hold his hand up to the others,
|
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236
|
|
|
And each to each become as brothers.
|
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237
|
|
|
And we shall slay this false traitor Death!
|
|
238
|
|
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He shall be slain, who steals men’s breath,
|
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239
|
|
|
By God’s dignity, ere it be night!’
|
| |
|
240
|
|
|
Together the three their troth did plight,
|
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241
|
|
|
To live and die each of them for the other,
|
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242
|
|
|
As though he were his own born brother,
|
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243
|
|
|
And up they leapt, all drunk and in a rage,
|
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244
|
|
|
And forth they went towards the village
|
|
245
|
|
|
Of which the innkeeper had told before.
|
|
246
|
|
|
And many a grisly oath then they swore,
|
|
247
|
|
|
And Christ’s blessed body tore and rent;
|
|
248
|
|
|
Death shall die: to catch him their intent!
|
| |
|
249
|
|
|
When they had gone barely half a mile,
|
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250
|
|
|
Just as they were about to leap a stile,
|
|
251
|
|
|
An old man, a poor man, there they met.
|
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252
|
|
|
The old man humbly paid them his respects,
|
|
253
|
|
|
And spoke thus: ‘Now lords, may God protect ye!’
|
| |
|
254
|
|
|
The proudest then of these profligates three
|
|
255
|
|
|
Answered again: What, knave of sorry grace!
|
|
256
|
|
|
Why are you all cloaked save for your face?
|
|
257
|
|
|
Why have you lived so long, in your old age?’
|
| |
|
258
|
|
|
The old man stared hard into his visage,
|
|
259
|
|
|
And spoke thus: ‘Because I cannot find
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|
260
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|
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Any man, though I have walked to Inde,
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|
261
|
|
|
Neither in city, nor in distant village,
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|
262
|
|
|
Who will exchange his youth for my age.
|
|
263
|
|
|
And therefore have I all my years still,
|
|
264
|
|
|
As long as it may further the Lord’s will.
|
|
265
|
|
|
No death, alas, will take away my life!
|
|
266
|
|
|
So I wander on, wretched, and in strife,
|
|
267
|
|
|
And at the ground, which is my mother’s gate,
|
|
268
|
|
|
I knock with my staff, both early and late,
|
|
269
|
|
|
Crying: “Dear mother, please let me in!
|
|
270
|
|
|
See, how I waste, flesh and blood and skin!
|
|
271
|
|
|
Alas, when shall my bones be at rest?
|
|
272
|
|
|
Mother, with you I would exchange the chest
|
|
273
|
|
|
That in my chamber has a long time been
|
|
274
|
|
|
Yea, for a hair-shirt to wrap round me!”
|
|
275
|
|
|
– But yet to me she will not show that grace,
|
|
276
|
|
|
And so all pale and wrinkled is my face.
|
| |
|
277
|
|
|
But sires, you show a lack of courtesy
|
|
278
|
|
|
In speaking to an aged man, so harshly,
|
|
279
|
|
|
Unless he’s trespassed in word or deed.
|
|
280
|
|
|
In holy writ, too, you yourself may read:
|
|
281
|
|
|
“Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head”,
|
|
282
|
|
|
Therefore I give you my advice, ‘tis said,
|
|
283
|
|
|
Unto an old man no harm should you do,
|
|
284
|
|
|
More than you would have men do unto you
|
|
285
|
|
|
In age, if here it chance you long abide.
|
|
286
|
|
|
And God be with you, where you go or ride!
|
|
287
|
|
|
I must go thither where I have to go.’
|
| |
|
288
|
|
|
‘Nay, old churl, by God, you shall not so!’
|
|
289
|
|
|
Cried the other profligate, anon.
|
|
290
|
|
|
‘You leave us not so lightly, by Saint John!
|
|
291
|
|
|
You spoke just now of that traitor Death,
|
|
292
|
|
|
Who in this country steals away men’s breath;
|
|
293
|
|
|
You have my word, as you are his spy,
|
|
294
|
|
|
Say where he is or you’ll pay by and by,
|
|
295
|
|
|
By God, and by the Holy Sacrament!
|
|
296
|
|
|
For truly you are both joined in consent
|
|
297
|
|
|
To slay us younger folk, you false thief!’
|
| |
|
298
|
|
|
‘Now, sires,’ quoth he, ‘if it is your chief
|
|
299
|
|
|
Wish to find Death, take this crooked way,
|
|
300
|
|
|
For in that grove I left him, by my faith,
|
|
301
|
|
|
Under a tree, and there he will abide;
|
|
302
|
|
|
No bluster of yours will make him hide.
|
|
303
|
|
|
See you that oak? Just there you shall him find.
|
|
304
|
|
|
God save you, He that redeemed all mankind,
|
|
305
|
|
|
And amend you!’ – So said the aged man.
|
|
306
|
|
|
And every one of the profligates then ran
|
|
307
|
|
|
Till they came to the tree, and there they found
|
|
308
|
|
|
Of florins fine, of gold new-coined and round,
|
|
309
|
|
|
Well nigh eight bushels, was what they thought.
|
|
310
|
|
|
No longer then after Death they sought,
|
|
311
|
|
|
But each of them was pleased so at the sight,
|
|
312
|
|
|
Since the florins gleamed so fair and bright,
|
|
313
|
|
|
That down they sat beside the precious hoard.
|
| |
|
314
|
|
|
The wickedest of them spoke the first word:
|
|
315
|
|
|
‘Brethren’ quoth he, ‘take note of what I say;
|
|
316
|
|
|
My wit is great, though I may jest and play.
|
|
317
|
|
|
This treasure now to us has Fortune given,
|
|
318
|
|
|
In mirth and jollity our life to live: then,
|
|
319
|
|
|
Lightly as it comes, so shall we spend.
|
|
320
|
|
|
By God’s precious dignity, this day’s end,
|
|
321
|
|
|
Who’d have thought it would bring so fair a grace?
|
|
322
|
|
|
Now might this gold be carried from this place,
|
|
323
|
|
|
Home to my house – or else to yours –
|
|
324
|
|
|
For now you see that all this gold is ours –
|
|
325
|
|
|
Then would we be in high felicity.
|
|
326
|
|
|
Yet certainly, by day that may not be.
|
|
327
|
|
|
Men would say we were thieves all along,
|
|
328
|
|
|
And for our own treasure have us hung.
|
|
329
|
|
|
This treasure must be carried off by night,
|
|
330
|
|
|
As carefully and cunningly as we might.
|
|
331
|
|
|
So I suggest that lots among us all
|
|
332
|
|
|
We draw, and see how the lots may fall;
|
|
333
|
|
|
And he of the short straw, with heart blithe
|
|
334
|
|
|
Shall run to the town, and swift and lithe,
|
|
335
|
|
|
And bring us bread and wine secretly.
|
|
336
|
|
|
And two of us will guard cunningly
|
|
337
|
|
|
This treasure well, and, if he not tarry,
|
|
338
|
|
|
When it is night we shall this treasure carry,
|
|
339
|
|
|
By our consent, wherever we think best.’
|
| |
|
340
|
|
|
Then one of them held the straws in his fist,
|
|
341
|
|
|
And bade them draw, see how the lots might fall;
|
|
342
|
|
|
The shortest fell to the youngest of them all,
|
|
343
|
|
|
And forth towards the town he ran anon.
|
|
344
|
|
|
And as soon as ever he was gone,
|
|
345
|
|
|
One of them spoke thus to the other:
|
|
346
|
|
|
‘You know that you are my sworn brother;
|
|
347
|
|
|
I’ll tell you where you profit lies anon.
|
|
348
|
|
|
You know that our fellow is clean gone,
|
|
349
|
|
|
And here is gold, and that in great plenty,
|
|
350
|
|
|
Which is to be shared among us three.
|
|
351
|
|
|
Yet if it seemed that I could shape it so
|
|
352
|
|
|
That it were only shared between us, though,
|
|
353
|
|
|
Would I not show myself a friend to thee?’
|
| |
|
354
|
|
|
‘The other answered him: ‘How can that be?
|
|
355
|
|
|
He knows the gold is here, while he’s away;
|
|
356
|
|
|
What could we do? What could we hope to say?’
|
| |
|
357
|
|
|
‘Shall it be secret?’ said the worst of the two,
|
|
358
|
|
|
‘And in a few words I’ll explain it you,
|
|
359
|
|
|
What we shall do to bring it all about.’
|
|
360
|
|
|
‘I agree,’ said the other, ‘have no doubt,
|
|
361
|
|
|
You, by my oath, will I not betray.’
|
| |
|
362
|
|
|
‘Now,’ quoth the first, ‘we be two, I say,
|
|
363
|
|
|
And two of us then are stronger than one.
|
|
364
|
|
|
Look, when he is seated, then right anon
|
|
365
|
|
|
Rise as though with him you would play;
|
|
366
|
|
|
And I will stab him through the side, this way,
|
|
367
|
|
|
While you are struggling with him, as in game,
|
|
368
|
|
|
And with your dagger look you do the same.
|
|
369
|
|
|
And then this gold shall be shared, you see,
|
|
370
|
|
|
My dear friend, just between you and me.
|
|
371
|
|
|
Then we can both our wishes thus fulfil,
|
|
372
|
|
|
And play at dice according to our will.’
|
|
373
|
|
|
And so the two rogues agreed, and they
|
|
374
|
|
|
Planned to slay the third, as you heard say.
|
| |
|
375
|
|
|
The youngest, while he ran towards the town,
|
|
376
|
|
|
Often in his thoughts rolled up and down
|
|
377
|
|
|
The beauty of those florins new and bright.
|
|
378
|
|
|
‘O Lord,’ quoth he, ‘if only that I might
|
|
379
|
|
|
Have all this treasure for myself alone,
|
|
380
|
|
|
There is no man that lives beneath the throne
|
|
381
|
|
|
Of God who would live as merry as me!’
|
|
382
|
|
|
And at last the fiend, our deadly enemy,
|
|
383
|
|
|
Put in his thoughts, that he should poison buy,
|
|
384
|
|
|
With which to slay his fellows by and by,
|
|
385
|
|
|
Because the fiend found his way of living
|
|
386
|
|
|
Was such he’d power to set him sorrowing.
|
|
387
|
|
|
For this was wholly his complete intent:
|
|
388
|
|
|
To kill them both, and never to repent.
|
|
389
|
|
|
And off he went – no longer would he tarry –
|
|
390
|
|
|
Into the town to an apothecary,
|
|
391
|
|
|
And requested of him that he sell
|
|
392
|
|
|
Him poison, a host of rats to quell,
|
|
393
|
|
|
And also there was a polecat in his yard,
|
|
394
|
|
|
That, so he said, had pressed his chickens hard,
|
|
395
|
|
|
And he would take revenge, if he might,
|
|
396
|
|
|
On vermin that stole from him at night.
|
| |
|
397
|
|
|
The apothecary answered: ‘You’ll take away
|
|
398
|
|
|
A compound that, as God my soul may save,
|
|
399
|
|
|
Is such that in all this world there’s no creature
|
|
400
|
|
|
That has eaten or drunk of this mixture
|
|
401
|
|
|
Merely the quantity of a grain of wheat,
|
|
402
|
|
|
Who did not his life at once forfeit.
|
|
403
|
|
|
Yes, die he must, and in a shorter while
|
|
404
|
|
|
Than it would take you to walk a mile,
|
|
405
|
|
|
The poison is so strong and violent.’
|
| |
|
406
|
|
|
The cursed wretch then swiftly went,
|
|
407
|
|
|
With this poison in a box, in his hand,
|
|
408
|
|
|
Into the neighbouring street to a man,
|
|
409
|
|
|
From whom he borrowed large bottles three,
|
|
410
|
|
|
And into two the poison then poured he;
|
|
411
|
|
|
The third he left empty for his drink,
|
|
412
|
|
|
For a full night’s labour he did think
|
|
413
|
|
|
To spend transporting gold from that place.
|
|
414
|
|
|
And when this profligate, with sorry grace,
|
|
415
|
|
|
Had filled with wine his large bottles three,
|
|
416
|
|
|
To his fellows he returned and swiftly.
|
| |
|
417
|
|
|
Why make a longer sermon of it more?
|
|
418
|
|
|
Exactly as they’d planned his death before,
|
|
419
|
|
|
Right so they slew him and that anon.
|
|
420
|
|
|
And when it was done, thus spoke the one:
|
|
421
|
|
|
‘Now let us sit and drink, and be merry,
|
|
422
|
|
|
And afterwards we will his body bury.’
|
|
423
|
|
|
And with those words, he chanced, alas,
|
|
424
|
|
|
To seize a bottle where the poison was,
|
|
425
|
|
|
And drank, and poured his friend a drink too,
|
|
426
|
|
|
So that they died, both of them, the two.
|
| |
|
427
|
|
|
Surely, I must suppose, Avicenna
|
|
428
|
|
|
In no chapter of his Canon, ever
|
|
429
|
|
|
Wrote of more wondrous signs of poisoning
|
|
430
|
|
|
Than these wretches showed, ere their ending.
|
|
431
|
|
|
Thus died both these homicides, we know,
|
|
432
|
|
|
And then the traitorous poisoner also.
|
| |
|
433
|
|
|
O cursed sin above all cursedness!
|
|
434
|
|
|
O treacherous homicide, O wickedness!
|
|
435
|
|
|
O gluttony, gambling, and lechery!
|
|
436
|
|
|
You blasphemers of Christ, in villainy
|
|
437
|
|
|
Swearing out of habit and of pride!
|
|
438
|
|
|
Alas, mankind, how may this betide,
|
|
439
|
|
|
That to your Creator, He who first wrought
|
|
440
|
|
|
You, and with his precious heart’s blood bought
|
|
441
|
|
|
You again, you’re so false, unkind, alas?
|
| |
|
442
|
|
|
Now good men, God forgive you your trespass,
|
|
443
|
|
|
And shield you from the sin of avarice!
|
|
444
|
|
|
My holy pardon will save you from vice,
|
|
445
|
|
|
So long as you offer up gold and sterling,
|
|
446
|
|
|
Or else silver brooches, spoons and rings.
|
|
447
|
|
|
Bow your head beneath this holy bull.
|
|
448
|
|
|
Come forward wives, make offerings of wool;
|
|
449
|
|
|
Your name I enter here in my roll anon.
|
|
450
|
|
|
Into the bliss of heaven will you be gone;
|
|
451
|
|
|
I absolve you by my sovereign power –
|
|
452
|
|
|
You that offer wool – made pure as the hour
|
|
453
|
|
|
When you were born – And lo, sires, thus I preach.
|
|
454
|
|
|
And Jesus Christ, our healer, our soul’s leech,
|
|
455
|
|
|
May He grant you His pardon to receive,
|
|
456
|
|
|
For that is best, I will not you deceive.
|
| |
|
457
|
|
|
Sires, one thing was forgotten in my tale:
|
|
458
|
|
|
I have relics, pardons in my bale,
|
|
459
|
|
|
As fair as does any man in England,
|
|
460
|
|
|
Which were given me by the Pope’s hand.
|
|
461
|
|
|
If any of you would, out of devotion,
|
|
462
|
|
|
Make offering and have my absolution,
|
|
463
|
|
|
Come forth anon, and kneel you here adown,
|
|
464
|
|
|
And humbly receive my sovereign pardon;
|
|
465
|
|
|
Or else receive it as your way you wend,
|
|
466
|
|
|
All new and fresh at every mile’s end –
|
|
467
|
|
|
As long as you offer, new and new,
|
|
468
|
|
|
Nobles or pence, that are both good and true.
|
|
469
|
|
|
It is an honour to everyone that’s here,
|
|
470
|
|
|
To have found a competent pardoner,
|
|
471
|
|
|
To absolve you, through the country as you ride,
|
|
472
|
|
|
From any accidents that may betide.
|
|
473
|
|
|
Peradventure there may fall one of you
|
|
474 |
