|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
1. The Friar’s Prologue
|
|
0
|
|
|
The Prologue to the Friar’sTale
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
The worthy Limiter, our noble Friar,
|
|
2
|
|
|
Kept glancing round with a scowl of ire
|
|
3
|
|
|
Towards the Summoner, but from honesty
|
|
4
|
|
|
No villainous word as yet spoke he.
|
|
5
|
|
|
But at last he turned to the Wife:
|
|
6
|
|
|
‘Dame,’ quoth he, ‘God grant you a good life!
|
|
7
|
|
|
You have here touched, I must agree,
|
|
8
|
|
|
On high matters of great difficulty.
|
|
9
|
|
|
You have said many things well, I say.
|
|
10
|
|
|
But, dame, here as we ride by the way,
|
|
11
|
|
|
We are but asked to speak and play a game,
|
|
12
|
|
|
And leave true authority, in God’s name,
|
|
13
|
|
|
To the preachers and the schools of clergy.
|
|
14
|
|
|
But if it’s pleasing to this company,
|
|
15
|
|
|
I’ll tell you of a summoner, the same.
|
|
16
|
|
|
Pardee, you may know just by the name
|
|
17
|
|
|
Of summoner there’s no good to be said –
|
|
18
|
|
|
I pray that none of you will be offended.
|
|
19
|
|
|
A summoner runs up and down the nation
|
|
20
|
|
|
With summonses concerning fornication,
|
|
21
|
|
|
Him people thrash at every town’s end.’
|
| |
|
22
|
|
|
Our Host then spoke: ‘Ah, sire, please extend
|
|
23
|
|
|
Courtesy, as of a man in your estate!
|
|
24
|
|
|
In company we’ll have no such debate.
|
|
25
|
|
|
Tell your tale, and let the Summoner be!’
|
| |
|
26
|
|
|
‘Nay,’ quoth the Summoner, ‘let him call me
|
|
27
|
|
|
Whatever he wishes; when I tune my note
|
|
28
|
|
|
By God, I’ll repay him every groat!
|
|
29
|
|
|
I’ll tell him, then, how great an honour
|
|
30
|
|
|
It is to be a flattering limiter,
|
|
31
|
|
|
And of the many other kinds of crime
|
|
32
|
|
|
That need no rehearsing at this time,
|
|
33
|
|
|
And explain his office to him, as it is!’
|
| |
|
34
|
|
|
Our Host answered: ‘Peace, no more of this!’
|
|
35
|
|
|
And after that he turned to the Friar:
|
|
36
|
|
|
‘Tell forth your tale, now, my good sire.’
|
| |
| |
|
2. The Friar’s Tale
|
|
0
|
|
|
Here begins the Friar’s Tale
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
Once there was, dwelling in my country,
|
|
2
|
|
|
An archdeacon, a man of high degree,
|
|
3
|
|
|
Who boldly served the law’s execution
|
|
4
|
|
|
In the punishment of fornication,
|
|
5
|
|
|
Of witchcraft, and also of bawdry,
|
|
6
|
|
|
Of defamation, and adultery,
|
|
7
|
|
|
Of church robbery, and of testaments
|
|
8
|
|
|
Of contracts, and neglect of sacraments,
|
|
9
|
|
|
Of usury, and of simony also.
|
|
10
|
|
|
But on the lechers he served greatest woe;
|
|
11
|
|
|
He made them sing, if less than innocent,
|
|
12
|
|
|
And small tithe-payers if they missed the rent,
|
|
13
|
|
|
If any parson should of them complain.
|
|
14
|
|
|
They could not avoid pecuniary pain;
|
|
15
|
|
|
For short tithes and short offerings
|
|
16
|
|
|
He made the people piteously sing.
|
|
17
|
|
|
For ere the bishop caught them with his crook,
|
|
18
|
|
|
They were down in the archdeacon’s book,
|
|
19
|
|
|
And then had he, through his jurisdiction,
|
|
20
|
|
|
Power to administer correction.
|
| |
|
21
|
|
|
He had a summoner ready to his hand;
|
|
22
|
|
|
A slyer lad was none in all England.
|
|
23
|
|
|
For subtly he set spies on the trail
|
|
24
|
|
|
Who showed him his profit without fail.
|
|
25
|
|
|
He would spare the lechers, three or four,
|
|
26
|
|
|
To lead the way to four and twenty more.
|
|
27
|
|
|
For though our man go mad as a hare,
|
|
28
|
|
|
To tell his wickedness I will not spare;
|
|
29
|
|
|
For we are free from his correction.
|
|
30
|
|
|
Over us they have no jurisdiction,
|
|
31
|
|
|
Nor ever shall, throughout their lives.
|
| |
|
32
|
|
|
‘St Peter! Thus the women in the dives,’
|
|
33
|
|
|
Quoth the Summoner, ‘are past our cure!’
|
| |
|
34
|
|
|
‘Peace to mischance and misadventure!’
|
|
35
|
|
|
– So said our Host – ‘and let him tell his tale.
|
|
36
|
|
|
Now tell it forth, though the Summoner pale;
|
|
37
|
|
|
And spare him not, my own good sire.’
|
|
38
|
|
|
This false thief, this summoner – quoth the Friar –
|
|
39
|
|
|
Had pimps always ready to his hand,
|
|
40
|
|
|
As any hawk to lure in all England,
|
|
41
|
|
|
Who told him all the secrets that they knew,
|
|
42
|
|
|
For their acquaintance was nothing new;
|
|
43
|
|
|
They were his private agents, his spies.
|
|
44
|
|
|
He made himself great profits thereby;
|
|
45
|
|
|
His master knew not always what he won.
|
|
46
|
|
|
And without a warrant he would summon
|
|
47
|
|
|
Some lewd man, on pain of Christ’s curse,
|
|
48
|
|
|
And all would be content to fill his purse,
|
|
49
|
|
|
And buy him great feasts at the inn.
|
|
50
|
|
|
And just as Judas had his purse, his sin
|
|
51
|
|
|
Being theft, just such a thief was he.
|
|
52
|
|
|
His master received but half the duty.
|
|
53
|
|
|
He was, if I should praise him and applaud,
|
|
54
|
|
|
A thief, and then a summoner, and a bawd.
|
|
55
|
|
|
And he had wenches in his retinue
|
|
56
|
|
|
That, whether Sir Robert or Sir Hugh,
|
|
57
|
|
|
Or Jack or Ralph, whoever might appear
|
|
58
|
|
|
And lie with them, they told it in his ear.
|
|
59
|
|
|
So were the wench and he of one intent.
|
|
60
|
|
|
And he would fetch a forged writ hence,
|
|
61
|
|
|
And summon both to Chapter Court and so
|
|
62
|
|
|
He’d fleece the man and let the wench go.
|
| |
|
63
|
|
|
Then would he say: ‘Friend, for you, alack,
|
|
64
|
|
|
I’ll strike her name out of our letters black.
|
|
65
|
|
|
You need no more in her cause travail;
|
|
66
|
|
|
I am your friend, in this I may avail.’
|
|
67
|
|
|
Certain he knew of swindles old and new,
|
|
68
|
|
|
More than could be told in a year or two.
|
|
69
|
|
|
For in this world no dog that tracks the bow
|
|
70
|
|
|
Could tell a hurt deer from a whole one so
|
|
71
|
|
|
Well as this summoner could a sly lecher,
|
|
72
|
|
|
Or an adulterer, or yet a lover.
|
|
73
|
|
|
And as that was the bulk of all his rent,
|
|
74
|
|
|
Therefore on that he set his whole intent.
|
| |
|
75
|
|
|
And so befell it once that on a day,
|
|
76
|
|
|
This summoner, ever waiting on his prey,
|
|
77
|
|
|
Rode to summon an old widow of the tribe,
|
|
78
|
|
|
Feigning a cause, expecting a bribe;
|
|
79
|
|
|
And chanced to see before him on the ride
|
|
80
|
|
|
A merry yeoman under a forest side.
|
|
81
|
|
|
A bow he bore, and arrows bright and keen;
|
|
82
|
|
|
He wore a woollen jacket all in green,
|
|
83
|
|
|
A hat upon his head with fringes black.
|
| |
|
84
|
|
|
‘Sire,’ quoth this Summoner, reigning back,
|
|
85
|
|
|
Hail and well met! And every good man more!’
|
|
86
|
|
|
‘Whither ride you under this greenwood shaw?’
|
|
87
|
|
|
Said the yeoman: ‘Go you far today?’
|
| |
|
88
|
|
|
The summoner answered him and said: ‘Nay;
|
|
89
|
|
|
Here close by,’ quoth he, ‘it’s my intent
|
|
90
|
|
|
To ride, and then to summon up a rent
|
|
91
|
|
|
That is owing there to my lord, you see,’
|
| |
|
92
|
|
|
‘You are a bailiff then?’ ‘Yes’ quoth he.
|
|
93
|
|
|
He dare not, for very stain and shame,
|
|
94
|
|
|
Say that he was a summoner, by name.
|
|
95
|
|
|
‘Depardieux,’ quoth the yeoman, ‘dear brother,
|
|
96
|
|
|
You are a bailiff, and I am another.
|
|
97
|
|
|
I am a stranger now to this country;
|
|
98
|
|
|
For your acquaintance I would beg thee,
|
|
99
|
|
|
And brotherhood as well, if you wish.
|
|
100
|
|
|
I have gold and silver in my chest;
|
|
101
|
|
|
If you chance to cross into our shire,
|
|
102
|
|
|
All shall be yours, as much as you desire.’
|
| |
|
103
|
|
|
‘Graunt mercy,’ quoth the summoner, ‘by my faith!’
|
|
104
|
|
|
Each on the other’s hand his truth pledged
|
|
105
|
|
|
To be brothers sworn till their dying day,
|
|
106
|
|
|
And rode chatting pleasantly on their way.
|
| |
|
107
|
|
|
The summoner, who was as full of words
|
|
108
|
|
|
As full of venom are the butcher-birds,
|
|
109
|
|
|
And ever enquiring about everything,
|
|
110
|
|
|
‘Brother,’ quoth he, ‘where is your dwelling,
|
|
111
|
|
|
If I were to seek you out another day?
|
|
112
|
|
|
The yeoman answered in his soft-spoken way:
|
|
113
|
|
|
‘Brother,’ quoth he, ‘far in the north country,
|
|
114
|
|
|
Where I hope some time you’ll visit me.
|
|
115
|
|
|
Ere we part, I’ll tell you where it is,
|
|
116
|
|
|
So my house there you shall never miss.’
|
| |
|
117
|
|
|
‘Now brother,’ quoth the summoner, ‘I pray,
|
|
118
|
|
|
Tell me, while we are riding on our way –
|
|
119
|
|
|
Since you are a bailiff the same as me –
|
|
120
|
|
|
Some subtle trick, and tell me faithfully
|
|
121
|
|
|
In my office how I may most win;
|
|
122
|
|
|
And spare not for conscience or for sin,
|
|
123
|
|
|
But as my brother tell me how do ye.’
|
| |
|
124
|
|
|
‘Now my by troth, dear brother,’ said he,
|
|
125
|
|
|
‘I will tell you then a faithful tale:
|
|
126
|
|
|
My wages are scanty, right small ale,
|
|
127
|
|
|
My lord is hard to me, ungenerous,
|
|
128
|
|
|
And my office is thus laborious,
|
|
129
|
|
|
And therefore by extortion do I live;
|
|
130
|
|
|
Forsooth, I take whatever men will give.
|
|
131
|
|
|
Any way, by tricks or violence,
|
|
132
|
|
|
From year to year I cover my expense.
|
|
133
|
|
|
I can no better tell it, truthfully.’
|
| |
|
134
|
|
|
‘Well, now,’ quoth the summoner, ‘same as me!’
|
|
135
|
|
|
I never hesitate to take, God knows,
|
|
136
|
|
|
Long as it’s not too hot or heavy though.
|
| |
|
137
|
|
|
What I may get in private, secretly,
|
|
138
|
|
|
Is not a question of conscience, to me.
|
|
139
|
|
|
Were it not for extortion, I’d no living.
|
|
140
|
|
|
Nor of such tricks shall I be shriven;
|
|
141
|
|
|
Feeling or conscience know I none.
|
|
142
|
|
|
I curse those confessors ever a one!
|
|
143
|
|
|
Well are we met, by God and by Saint James!
|
|
144
|
|
|
But, dear brother, tell me then your name.’
|
|
145
|
|
|
Quoth the summoner. Now, all the while
|
|
146
|
|
|
The yeoman had displayed a little smile.
|
| |
|
147
|
|
|
‘Brother,’ quoth he, ‘would you have me tell?
|
|
148
|
|
|
I am a fiend; my dwelling is in Hell.
|
|
149
|
|
|
And here I ride about my purchasing
|
|
150
|
|
|
To see if men will give me anything.
|
|
151
|
|
|
My profit is the total, just like rent.
|
|
152
|
|
|
Look how you ride upon the same intent,
|
|
153
|
|
|
To win your profit – you don’t care how –
|
|
154
|
|
|
Well so fare I, for ride I would right now
|
|
155
|
|
|
Unto the world’s end following my prey.’
|
| |
|
156
|
|
|
‘Ah,’ quoth the summoner, ‘benedicite!
|
|
157
|
|
|
What’s this? I thought you were a yeoman, truly;
|
|
158
|
|
|
You have a man’s shape as well as me.
|
|
159
|
|
|
Have you another shape determinate
|
|
160
|
|
|
In Hell, where you are in your own true state?
|
| |
|
161
|
|
|
‘Nay, for sure,’ quoth he, ‘there have we none.
|
|
162
|
|
|
But when we choose, then we can don one,
|
|
163
|
|
|
Or else make you believe we have a shape.
|
|
164
|
|
|
Sometimes we’re like a man, or like an ape,
|
|
165
|
|
|
Or like an angel can I ride and go.
|
|
166
|
|
|
It is no wondrous thing though it be so;
|
|
167
|
|
|
A louse-ridden juggler can deceive thee,
|
|
168
|
|
|
And, pardee, I’ve much more power than he.’
|
| |
|
169
|
|
|
‘Why,’ quoth the summoner, ‘do you ride and run
|
|
170
|
|
|
In sundry shape, and not always in one?’
|
|
171
|
|
|
‘That we,’ quoth he, ‘may such forms awake
|
|
172
|
|
|
As are most useful when our prey we take.’
|
| |
|
173
|
|
|
‘What makes you undertake all this labour?’
|
|
174
|
|
|
‘Many a reason, dear sir summoner,’
|
|
175
|
|
|
Said the fiend, ‘but all things in good time.
|
|
176
|
|
|
The day is short, and it is long past prime,
|
|
177
|
|
|
And yet I’ve gathered nothing all this day.
|
|
178
|
|
|
I must attend to profit if I may,
|
|
179
|
|
|
And our stratagems I’ll not declare;
|
|
180
|
|
|
For, brother mine, your wit is all too bare
|
|
181
|
|
|
To understand, though I should tell them thee.
|
|
182
|
|
|
But as you asked why so labour we:
|
|
183
|
|
|
Sometimes we are God’s own instruments,
|
|
184
|
|
|
The means to execute his commandments,
|
|
185
|
|
|
When he wishes to, upon his creatures,
|
|
186
|
|
|
In various ways and under various features.
|
|
187
|
|
|
Without him we have no power, again,
|
|
188
|
|
|
If he should wish to stand against our aim.
|
|
189
|
|
|
And sometimes at our request we have leave
|
|
190
|
|
|
Only the body, but not the soul, to grieve;
|
|
191
|
|
|
Witness Job, whom we brought such woe.
|
|
192
|
|
|
But sometimes we have power over both:
|
|
193
|
|
|
That is to say of body and soul also.
|
|
194
|
|
|
And sometimes we are allowed to go
|
|
195
|
|
|
Attack a man, and bring his soul unrest,
|
|
196
|
|
|
And not his body, then all is for the best
|
|
197
|
|
|
If he withstands our sore temptation;
|
|
198
|
|
|
Since it is a cause of his salvation,
|
|
199
|
|
|
Albeit that such was never our intent
|
|
200
|
|
|
To save, but rather to have him pent.
|
|
201
|
|
|
And sometimes we are servants to some man,
|
|
202
|
|
|
As to the archbishop Saint Dunstan;
|
|
203
|
|
|
To the Apostles a servant once was I.’
|
| |
|
204
|
|
|
‘Then tell me,’ quoth the summoner, ‘speak no lie,
|
|
205
|
|
|
Make you your new bodies thus always
|
|
206
|
|
|
From the elements?’ The fiend answered: ‘Nay.
|
|
207
|
|
|
Sometimes we’re illusions, sometimes rise
|
|
208
|
|
|
With corpses’ bodies in sundry wise,
|
|
209
|
|
|
And speak as fluently and fair and well
|
|
210
|
|
|
As, to the Witch of Endor, Samuel.
|
|
211
|
|
|
(And yet some men say it was not he –
|
|
212
|
|
|
I grant no worth to your theology.)
|
|
213
|
|
|
But one thing I warn you of, it’s no jape:
|
|
214
|
|
|
You’ll know one day how we find a shape;
|
|
215
|
|
|
You shall hereafter, my brother dear,
|
|
216
|
|
|
Come where you need not lend an ear!
|
|
217
|
|
|
For you will, from your own experience,
|
|
218
|
|
|
Be able to lecture in word and sentence
|
|
219
|
|
|
Better than Virgil when he was alive,
|
|
220
|
|
|
Or Dante. Now let us swiftly ride,
|
|
221
|
|
|
For I will keep company with thee,
|
|
222
|
|
|
Till you may choose to forsake me.’
|
| |
|
223
|
|
|
‘Nay,’ quoth the summoner, ‘let us ride!
|
|
224
|
|
|
I’m a yeoman known both far and wide;
|
|
225
|
|
|
My pledge will I keep, as I have done.
|
|
226
|
|
|
For though you were the devil himself, Satan,
|
|
227
|
|
|
My pledge will I keep to you, my brother,
|
|
228
|
|
|
As I swore, and each swore to the other,
|
|
229
|
|
|
To be a true brother in every case.
|
|
230
|
|
|
And both can go about our purchase;
|
|
231
|
|
|
Take you your share of what men will give,
|
|
232
|
|
|
And I will mine; thus we both may live.
|
|
233
|
|
|
And if either has more than the other,
|
|
234
|
|
|
Let him be true, and share with his brother.’
|
| |
|
235
|
|
|
‘Agreed,’ quoth the devil, ‘by my faith!’
|
|
236
|
|
|
And with that they rode forth on their way,
|
|
237
|
|
|
And right at the start of the town end
|
|
238
|
|
|
To which this summoner planned to wend,
|
|
239
|
|
|
They saw a cart loaded up with hay,
|
|
240
|
|
|
That a carter drove forth on his way.
|
|
241
|
|
|
Deep was the mud, and the cart was stuck;
|
|
242
|
|
|
The carter shouted out like mad, and struck:
|
|
243
|
|
|
‘Hey Brock! Hup, Scot! Mind you the stones?
|
|
244
|
|
|
The fiend,’ quoth he, ‘take you, skin and bones,
|
|
245
|
|
|
As surely as ever that you were foaled,
|
|
246
|
|
|
So much is the woe you bring, all told!
|
|
247
|
|
|
The devil take all, horse, cart and hay!’
|
| |
|
248
|
|
|
The summoner said: ‘Here’s good play!’
|
|
249
|
|
|
And as if naught were doing, he drew near,
|
|
250
|
|
|
And quietly whispered in his friend’s ear:
|
|
251
|
|
|
‘Hearken, my brother, hearken, by my faith!
|
|
252
|
|
|
Do you not hear what the carter says?
|
|
253
|
|
|
Take them anon, for he has given them thee,
|
|
254
|
|
|
Hay and cart, and also his horses three.’
|
| |
|
255
|
|
|
‘Nay,’ quoth the devil, ‘God knows, never a bit!
|
|
256
|
|
|
Trust me well, he’s never a wish for it.
|
|
257
|
|
|
Ask him yourself, if you trust not me,
|
|
258
|
|
|
Or else wait a while and you will see.’
|
| |
|
259
|
|
|
The carter struck his horses on the rump,
|
|
260
|
|
|
And they began to haul, as he thumped.
|
|
261
|
|
|
‘Gee up,’ quoth he, ‘and Jesus Christ bless,
|
|
262
|
|
|
You and all his handiwork, both great and less!
|
|
263
|
|
|
That was well pulled, my own Grey Boy!
|
|
264
|
|
|
I pray God save you, and His Saint Loy.
|
|
265
|
|
|
Now is my cart out of the slough, pardee!’
|
| |
|
266
|
|
|
‘Lo, brother,’ quoth the fiend, ‘what told I thee?
|
|
267
|
|
|
Here you may see, my own dear brother,
|
|
268
|
|
|
The man spoke one thing, but meant another.
|
|
269
|
|
|
Les us sally forth on our voyage;
|
|
270
|
|
|
Here I win nothing, goods or carriage.’
|
| |
|
271
|
|
|
When they were some way out of town,
|
|
272
|
|
|
The summoner softly began to sound:
|
|
273
|
|
|
‘Brother,’ quoth he, ‘here lives an old wreck,
|
|
274
|
|
|
Who would almost as soon lose her neck
|
|
275
|
|
|
As give you a pennyworth of what she has.
|
|
276
|
|
|
I’ll have twelve pence of her, though she wax mad,
|
|
277
|
|
|
Or I’ll have to summon her to our office –
|
|
278
|
|
|
And yet, God knows, of her I know no vice.
|
|
279
|
|
|
But since you have failed in this country
|
|
280
|
|
|
To gain a profit, well then, learn from me.’
|
| |
|
281
|
|
|
The summoner knocked at the widow’s gate.
|
|
282
|
|
|
‘Come out,’ quoth he, ‘you old reprobate!
|
|
283
|
|
|
I swear you’ve some friar or priest with thee.’
|
| |
|
284
|
|
|
‘Who’s knocking?’ cried the wife, ‘benedicitee!
|
|
285
|
|
|
God save you, sire; what is your good will?’
|
| |
|
286
|
|
|
‘I have,’ quoth he, ‘with me a summons-bill.
|
|
287
|
|
|
On pain of excommunication, you shall be
|
|
288
|
|
|
To-morrow at the arch-deacon’s knee
|
|
289
|
|
|
To answer in his court to certain things.’
|
| |
|
290
|
|
|
‘Now, Lord,’ quoth she, ‘Christ Jesus, King of Kings,
|
|
291
|
|
|
Help me, for sure, as only You may!
|
|
292
|
|
|
I have been sick, and that for many a day;
|
|
293
|
|
|
I cannot go so far,’ quoth she,’ nor ride,
|
|
294
|
|
|
Except I die, it pricks so in my side.
|
|
295
|
|
|
May I not have a writ, sir summoner,
|
|
296
|
|
|
And answer there yet through my lawyer
|
|
297
|
|
|
To such charges as men press against me?’
|
| |
|
298
|
|
|
‘Yes,’ quoth the summoner, ‘pay – let’s see –
|
|
299
|
|
|
Twelve pence to me, and I may you acquit.
|
|
300
|
|
|
I shall not profit by it, not a bit.
|
|
301
|
|
|
My master takes the profit, none to me.
|
|
302
|
|
|
Quick now, I must ride on and hurriedly;
|
|
303
|
|
|
Give me twelve pence, for I cannot tarry.’
|
| |
|
304
|
|
|
‘Twelve pence!’ quoth she, ‘Now Lady Saint Mary
|
|
305
|
|
|
Defend me surely from care and sin,
|
|
306
|
|
|
Though this whole wide world I might win,
|
|
307
|
|
|
I have not twelve pence for hand to hold.
|
|
308
|
|
|
You well know that I am poor and old;
|
|
309
|
|
|
Show charity to me, a poor wretch.’
|
| |
|
310
|
|
|
‘Nay, then,’ quoth he, ‘the devil may me fetch,
|
|
311
|
|
|
If I’ll excuse you, though you go to ruin!’
|
|
312
|
|
|
‘Alas!’ quoth she, ‘God knows, I have no coin!’
|
| |
|
313
|
|
|
‘Pay me,’ quoth he, ‘by the sweet Saint Anne,
|
|
314
|
|
|
Or I will carry off your brand new pan
|
|
315
|
|
|
Against the debt you owe to me of old,
|
|
316
|
|
|
When you made your husband cuckold;
|
|
317
|
|
|
I paid back home for your correction.’
|
| |
|
318
|
|
|
‘You lie!’ quoth she, ‘By my salvation,
|
|
319
|
|
|
I was never ere now, widow or wife,
|
|
320
|
|
|
Summoned to your court in all my life,
|
|
321
|
|
|
Nor never was I with my body untrue.
|
|
322
|
|
|
To the devil rough and black of hue
|
|
323
|
|
|
Give I your body, and my pan also!’
|
| |
|
324
|
|
|
And when the devil heard her cursing so
|
|
325
|
|
|
Upon her knees, he spoke in this manner:
|
|
326
|
|
|
‘Now, Mabel, my own mother dear,
|
|
327
|
|
|
Is this your wish in earnest that you say?’
|
| |
|
328
|
|
|
‘The devil, quoth she, ‘come fetch him today,
|
|
329
|
|
|
And pan and all, unless he shall repent!’
|
| |
|
330
|
|
|
‘Nay, old bawd, that is not my intent,’
|
|
331
|
|
|
Quoth the summoner, ‘to repent, not me,
|
|
332
|
|
|
For anything that I have had of thee.
|
|
333
|
|
|
I would I had your smock, rag and cloth!’
|
| |
|
334
|
|
|
‘Now, brother,’ quoth the devil, ‘be not wrath:
|
|
335
|
|
|
Your body and this pan are mine by right.
|
|
336
|
|
|
You yet shall go to Hell with me tonight,
|
|
337
|
|
|
Where you shall know of our mysteries
|
|
338
|
|
|
More than does any master of divinity.’
|
|
339
|
|
|
And with that the foul fiend dragged him hence;
|
|
340
|
|
|
Body and soul he with the devil went
|
|
341
|
|
|
Where summoners receive their heritage.
|
|
342
|
|
|
And God who made, after His own image,
|
|
343
|
|
|
Mankind, save and guide us, all and some,
|
|
344
|
|
|
And let these summoners good men become!
|
|
345
|
|
|
Lordings, I could have told you – said the Friar –
|
|
346
|
|
|
Had I the time, and this Summoner desire,
|
|
347
|
|
|
Drawing on texts of Christ, Paul and John,
|
|
348
|
|
|
And of other teachers, many a one,
|
|
349
|
|
|
Of torments that will freeze hearts, in some wise;
|
|
350
|
|
|
Although the tongue can scarcely devise,
|
|
351
|
|
|
Though for a thousand winters I might tell
|
|
352
|
|
|
Of it, the pain of this cursed house of Hell.
|
|
353
|
|
|
But to defend us from that cursed place,
|
|
354
|
|
|
Watch and pray to Jesus for his grace;
|
|
355
|
|
|
So guard us from the tempter Satan base.
|
|
356
|
|
|
Hark to my word – beware, as in this case:
|
|
357
|
|
|
‘The lion sits in wait for us always
|
|
358
|
|
|
To slay the innocent, if ever he may.
|
|
359
|
|
|
Dispose your hearts always to withstand
|
|
360
|
|
|
The fiend, who would grip you in his hand.’
|
|
361
|
|
|
He may not tempt you beyond your might,
|
|
362
|
|
|
For Christ will be your champion and knight.
|
|
363
|
|
|
And pray that all these summoners repent
|
|
364
|
|
|
Of their misdeeds, before they’re summoned hence!
|
| |
|
365
|
|
|
Here ends the Friar’s Tale
|
| |
| |
|
3. The Summoner’s Prologue
|
|
0
|
|
|
The Prologue to the Summoner’s Tale
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
The Summoner, up in his stirrups high, stood;
|
|
2
|
|
|
His heart against this Friar filled with blood
|
|
3
|
|
|
And like an aspen leaf he shook, with ire.
|
|
4
|
|
|
‘Lordings,’ quoth he, ‘but one thing I desire:
|
|
5
|
|
|
I beseech you that of your courtesy, I,
|
|
6
|
|
|
Since you have heard this false Friar lie,
|
|
7
|
|
|
May be suffered now my tale to tell!
|
|
8
|
|
|
This Friar boasts that he knows of Hell,
|
|
9
|
|
|
And God knows, that is little wonder;
|
|
10
|
|
|
Friars and fiends are seldom far asunder.
|
|
11
|
|
|
For, pardee, you often times heard tell
|
|
12
|
|
|
How that a friar was dragged off to Hell
|
|
13
|
|
|
In the spirit once, and in a vision,
|
|
14
|
|
|
And as an angel led him up and down
|
|
15
|
|
|
To show him all the torments of the fire,
|
|
16
|
|
|
In all the place he never saw a Friar;
|
|
17
|
|
|
Of other folk he saw enough, in woe.
|
|
18
|
|
|
Unto the angel spoke the Friar, though:
|
|
19
|
|
|
“Now sire, ‘quoth he, ‘are Friars in such grace,
|
|
20
|
|
|
That none of them shall ever reach this place?”
|
|
21
|
|
|
“Nay,” quoth the angel, “millions are found
|
|
22
|
|
|
Below! And unto Satan he led him down.
|
|
23
|
|
|
“Now Satan you see” says he, “has a tail
|
|
24
|
|
|
Wider than of a carrack is the sail.
|
|
25
|
|
|
Hols up your tail, now Satan!” quoth he,
|
|
26
|
|
|
“Show us your arse, and let the Friar see
|
|
27
|
|
|
Where is the nest for Friars in this place.”
|
|
28
|
|
|
And in less than half a minute’s space,
|
|
29
|
|
|
Just as bees swarm from out a hive,
|
|
30
|
|
|
Out of the devil’s arse began to drive
|
|
31
|
|
|
Twenty thousand Friars in a rout,
|
|
32
|
|
|
And off through Hell they swarmed about,
|
|
33
|
|
|
And returned again as fast as they had gone
|
|
34
|
|
|
And into his arse they crept everyone;
|
|
35
|
|
|
He clapped his tail again and lay still.
|
|
36
|
|
|
The Friar, when he had looked his fill
|
|
37
|
|
|
On all the torments in this sorry place,
|
|
38
|
|
|
His spirit God restored, of his grace,
|
|
39
|
|
|
To his body again, and he awoke.
|
|
40
|
|
|
But nevertheless for fear he still shook,
|
|
41
|
|
|
The devil’s arse was there yet in his mind;
|
|
42
|
|
|
Such is the heritage of all his kind.
|
|
43
|
|
|
God save you all, save this cursed Friar!
|
|
44
|
|
|
My prologue ends, all that I shall require.’
|
| |
| |
| |
|
4. The Summoner’s Tale
|
|
0
|
|
|
Here begins the Summoner’s Tale
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
Lordings there lies, in Yorkshire as I guess,
|
|
2
|
|
|
A marshy country known as Holderness,
|
|
3
|
|
|
In which a friar, a limiter, went about
|
|
4
|
|
|
To preach, and to beg as well, no doubt.
|
|
5
|
|
|
And it befell that on a day this friar
|
|
6
|
|
|
He preached at a church as he desired,
|
|
7
|
|
|
And specially, above every other thing,
|
|
8
|
|
|
Excited all the people by his preaching
|
|
9
|
|
|
To buy masses, and give for God’s sake
|
|
10
|
|
|
Coins with which men might holy houses make,
|
|
11
|
|
|
Those where divine service is honoured –
|
|
12
|
|
|
Not where it is wasted and devoured,
|
|
13
|
|
|
Nor where there’s no need for men to give,
|
|
14
|
|
|
As to endowed clergymen, who live,
|
|
15
|
|
|
Thanks be to God, in wealth and abundance!
|
|
16
|
|
|
‘Masses,’ said he, ‘deliver from all penance
|
|
17
|
|
|
Your friends’ souls, whether old or young,
|
|
18
|
|
|
Yes, even when they are quickly sung –
|
|
19
|
|
|
Not to say that a priest has gone astray;
|
|
20
|
|
|
Because he only sings one mass a day.
|
|
21
|
|
|
‘Deliver then, anon’ quoth he, ‘the souls!
|
|
22
|
|
|
Full hard it is with flesh-hooks and with awls
|
|
23
|
|
|
To be clawed, or yet to burn or bake.
|
|
24
|
|
|
Do it swiftly now, for Christ’s sake!’
|
|
25
|
|
|
And when the Friar had shown his intent,
|
|
26
|
|
|
With qui cum patre on his way he went.
|
| |
|
27
|
|
|
When folk in church had given him what he wished,
|
|
28
|
|
|
He went his way – no longer would he rest –
|
|
29
|
|
|
With scrip and pointed staff, his gown tucked high.
|
|
30
|
|
|
Into every house he’d begin to peer and pry,
|
|
31
|
|
|
And begged for meal and cheese, or else corn.
|
|
32
|
|
|
His comrade had a staff, tipped with horn,
|
|
33
|
|
|
A pair of writing-tables, in ivory,
|
|
34
|
|
|
And a stylus, polished all elegantly,
|
|
35
|
|
|
And wrote the names down, as he stood,
|
|
36
|
|
|
Of all the folk that gave him any food,
|
|
37
|
|
|
As if for them he’d pray, by and by.
|
|
38
|
|
|
‘Give us a bushel, wheat, malt, or rye,
|
|
39
|
|
|
A God’s cake, or a little piece of cheese,
|
|
40
|
|
|
Anything you wish; all things do please.
|
|
41
|
|
|
A God’s halfpenny, or a mass-penny,
|
|
42
|
|
|
Or give us of your brawn, if you have any;
|
|
43
|
|
|
A portion of your blanket, dear dame,
|
|
44
|
|
|
Our sister true – lo, here I write your name –
|
|
45
|
|
|
Bacon or beef, or anything you find.’
|
| |
|
46
|
|
|
A sturdy varlet followed them behind,
|
|
47
|
|
|
Who was their inn-servant, and bore a sack,
|
|
48
|
|
|
And what men gave them, carried on his back;
|
|
49
|
|
|
And when he was out of doors, and alone,
|
|
50
|
|
|
He’d scrape away the names, every one
|
|
51
|
|
|
That he had written on his writing-tables;
|
|
52
|
|
|
He served them all with faery-tales and fables.
|
| |
|
53
|
|
|
‘Nay, there you lie, you Summoner!’ quoth the Friar.
|
|
54
|
|
|
‘Peace!’ quoth our Host, ‘for Christ’s mother dear!
|
|
55
|
|
|
Tell us your tale, and spare us not at all.’
|
|
56
|
|
|
‘So thrive I,’ quoth the Summoner, ‘that I shall.
|
| |
|
57
|
|
|
So along he goes from house to house, till he
|
|
58
|
|
|
Comes to a house where he is wont to be
|
|
59
|
|
|
Refreshed better than a hundred other places.
|
|
60
|
|
|
The good man lies sick whose house it is.
|
|
61
|
|
|
Bedridden there on a low couch lay he.
|
|
62
|
|
|
‘Deus hic!’ quoth he, ‘O Thomas, friend, good day!’
|
|
63
|
|
|
Said this friar courteously and full soft.
|
|
64
|
|
|
‘Thomas,’ quoth he, ‘God guard you, full oft
|
|
65
|
|
|
Have I upon this bench eaten full well!
|
|
66
|
|
|
Here have I eaten many a merry meal.’
|
|
67
|
|
|
And from the bench he drove away the cat,
|
|
68
|
|
|
And laid down his pointed staff and hat,
|
|
69
|
|
|
And his scrip too, and sat him quietly down.
|
|
70
|
|
|
His comrade had walked off into town,
|
|
71
|
|
|
Together with his knave, to the hostelry
|
|
72
|
|
|
Where he had thought that night to sleep.
|
| |
|
73
|
|
|
‘O my dear master, ‘quoth the sick man,
|
|
74
|
|
|
‘How are things with you? Since March began
|
|
75
|
|
|
I’ve not seen you for a fortnight or more.’
|
|
76
|
|
|
‘God knows,’ quoth he, ‘I’ve laboured full sore,
|
|
77
|
|
|
And especially for your salvation
|
|
78
|
|
|
Have I said many a precious orison,
|
|
79
|
|
|
And for our other friends, God them bless!
|
|
80
|
|
|
I have today been at your church at Mass,
|
|
81
|
|
|
And given a sermon, used my simple wit –
|
|
82
|
|
|
Not using all the text of holy writ,
|
|
83
|
|
|
Since it’s too hard for you, as I suppose,
|
|
84
|
|
|
And therefore I paraphrase, for those
|
|
85
|
|
|
Who find it so, it’s fine to paraphrase,
|
|
86
|
|
|
For “the letter killeth”, as the Bible says.
|
|
87
|
|
|
In it I told them to be charitable,
|
|
88
|
|
|
And spend their coin, in manner reasonable;
|
|
89
|
|
|
And there I saw your dame – ah, where is she?’
|
| |
|
90
|
|
|
‘Yonder in the yard I think she’ll be.’
|
|
91
|
|
|
Said the man, ‘and she’ll be here anon.’
|
| |
|
92
|
|
|
‘Ey, master, welcome be ye, by Saint John!’
|
|
93
|
|
|
Said the wife: ‘How fair you, heartily?’
|
| |
|
94
|
|
|
The friar rose full of courtesy,
|
|
95
|
|
|
And embraced her in his arms narrow,
|
|
96
|
|
|
And kissed her sweet and chirped like a sparrow
|
|
97
|
|
|
With his lips. ‘Dame,’ quoth he, ‘right well,
|
|
98
|
|
|
As he that is your servant and ever shall
|
|
99
|
|
|
Thank God that gave you soul and life!
|
|
100
|
|
|
Yet saw I not today as fair a wife
|
|
101
|
|
|
In all the church about, God save me!’
|
| |
|
102
|
|
|
‘Yet God amend my faults, sire,’ quoth she.
|
|
103
|
|
|
‘You are welcome at any rate, by my faith!’
|
| |
|
104
|
|
|
‘Graunt mercy, dame, this have I found always.
|
|
105
|
|
|
But in your great goodness, by your leave,
|
|
106
|
|
|
I pray take no offence, and do not grieve,
|
|
107
|
|
|
If I must speak with Thomas a while though.
|
|
108
|
|
|
These curates are full negligent and slow
|
|
109
|
|
|
At groping tenderly after the conscience.
|
|
110
|
|
|
In shriving, preaching, is my diligence,
|
|
111
|
|
|
And studying of Peter’s words and Paul’s.
|
|
112
|
|
|
I walk and fish for Christian men’s souls,
|
|
113
|
|
|
To yield to Jesus Christ his proper rent;
|
|
114
|
|
|
To spread his word is all my true intent.’
|
| |
|
115
|
|
|
‘Now, by your leave, O dear sire,’ quoth she,
|
|
116
|
|
|
‘Scold him well, by the sacred Trinity!
|
|
117
|
|
|
He’s irritable as an ant beside the fire,
|
|
118
|
|
|
Though he has all that he could desire.
|
|
119
|
|
|
Though I cover him at night and keep him warm,
|
|
120
|
|
|
And over him lay my leg or my arm,
|
|
121
|
|
|
He groans like the boar that’s in our sty.
|
|
122
|
|
|
Other sport of him right none have I;
|
|
123
|
|
|
I may not please him any way, alas.’
|
| |
|
124
|
|
|
‘O Thomas, je vous dy, Thomas, Thomas!
|
|
125
|
|
|
This is the fiend’s work, and must be mended!
|
|
126
|
|
|
Anger’s a thing that cannot be defended,
|
|
127
|
|
|
And therefore will I say a word or so.’
|
| |
|
128
|
|
|
‘Now, master,’ quoth the wife, ‘ere I go,
|
|
129
|
|
|
What will you dine on? And then I’ll do it.’
|
| |
|
130
|
|
|
‘Now dame,’ quoth he, ‘now je vous dy sanz doute,
|
|
131
|
|
|
Had I of a capon but the liver,
|
|
132
|
|
|
And of your soft bread just a sliver,
|
|
133
|
|
|
And after that a roasted pig’s head –
|
|
134
|
|
|
Though just for me I’d wish no creature dead –
|
|
135
|
|
|
Then that would be homely munificence.
|
|
136
|
|
|
I am a man needs little sustenance;
|
|
137
|
|
|
My spirit gets its nourishment from the Bible.
|
|
138
|
|
|
The body is so zealous, always so liable
|
|
139
|
|
|
To pray and wake, my appetite is destroyed.
|
|
140
|
|
|
I pray you dame, be not too annoyed,
|
|
141
|
|
|
If I speak frankly and confide in you.
|
|
142
|
|
|
By God, I tell such only to a few!’
|
| |
|
143
|
|
|
‘Now, sire,’ quoth she, ‘one word before I go:
|
|
144
|
|
|
My child died scarcely two weeks ago,
|
|
145
|
|
|
Shortly after you had left the town.’
|
| |
|
146
|
|
|
‘His death I saw in a revelation,’
|
|
147
|
|
|
Said the friar, ‘at home it was in our
|
|
148
|
|
|
Dormitory, I’d say, not half an hour
|
|
149
|
|
|
After his death, I saw him born to bliss
|
|
150
|
|
|
In a vision, God send me not amiss!
|
|
151
|
|
|
So did our sexton and our infirmary friars,
|
|
152
|
|
|
That have been true men these fifty years;
|
|
153
|
|
|
They may now, God be thanked for His loan,
|
|
154
|
|
|
Make their jubilee, and be free to walk alone.
|
|
155
|
|
|
And up I rose and all our convent meek,
|
|
156
|
|
|
With many a tear trickling down my cheek,
|
|
157
|
|
|
Without a noise or clattering of bells.
|
|
158
|
|
|
Te deum was our song, and nothing else,
|
|
159
|
|
|
Save that to Christ I said an orison,
|
|
160
|
|
|
Thanking Him for His revelation.
|
|
161
|
|
|
For, sire and dame, trust to me right well,
|
|
162
|
|
|
Our orisons are more effectual,
|
|
163
|
|
|
We see more into Christ’s secret things
|
|
164
|
|
|
Than laymen do, even though they be kings.
|
|
165
|
|
|
We live in poverty and abstinence,
|
|
166
|
|
|
While laymen live in luxury, expense
|
|
167
|
|
|
On meat and drink, and in their foul delight.
|
|
168
|
|
|
We set this world’s lust beyond our sight.
|
|
169
|
|
|
Lazarus and Dives lived diversely,
|
|
170
|
|
|
And they were rewarded differently.
|
|
171
|
|
|
Whoso will pray must fast and be clean,
|
|
172
|
|
|
And feed his soul, but keep his body lean.
|
|
173
|
|
|
We fare as the Gospel says: clothes and food
|
|
174
|
|
|
Suffice for us, though they be coarse and rude.
|
|
175
|
|
|
The cleanliness and fasting of us friars
|
|
176
|
|
|
Is what makes Jesus Christ accept our prayers.
|
| |
|
177
|
|
|
Lo, Moses forty days and forty nights
|
|
178
|
|
|
Fasted, before the great God in his might
|
|
179
|
|
|
Spoke with him on the summit of Sinai;
|
|
180
|
|
|
With empty stomach, fasting fit to die,
|
|
181
|
|
|
He received the law that was written
|
|
182
|
|
|
By God’s finger; and Elijah, when
|
|
183
|
|
|
On Mount Horeb, before he had speech
|
|
184
|
|
|
With God Almighty, who acts as our leech
|
|
185
|
|
|
Healing us, fasted long, in contemplation.
|
| |
|
186
|
|
|
Aaron too, that had the regulation
|
|
187
|
|
|
Of the Temple, and Levites every one,
|
|
188
|
|
|
Into the Temple when they were gone
|
|
189
|
|
|
To pray for the people, and serve there,
|
|
190
|
|
|
They would take no drink, that is, no manner
|
|
191
|
|
|
Of drink which might them drunken make,
|
|
192
|
|
|
But there in abstinence would pray and wake,
|
|
193
|
|
|
Lest they die. Take heed then of what I say:
|
|
194
|
|
|
Unless they are sober who for people pray,
|
|
195
|
|
|
Beware what I say; enough, that suffices!
|
| |
|
196
|
|
|
‘Our Lord Jesus, as holy writ advises,
|
|
197
|
|
|
Is our example, in fasting and in prayers.
|
|
198
|
|
|
Therefore we mendicants, we simple friars,
|
|
199
|
|
|
Have wedded poverty and continence,
|
|
200
|
|
|
Charity, humility, and abstinence,
|
|
201
|
|
|
Persecution for our righteousness,
|
|
202
|
|
|
Weeping, charity, and cleanliness.
|
|
203
|
|
|
And therefore you can see that our prayers –
|
|
204
|
|
|
I speak of us, we mendicants, we friars –
|
|
205
|
|
|
Are to the high God more acceptable
|
|
206
|
|
|
Than yours, with your feasting at table.
|
|
207
|
|
|
For his gluttony, and I tell no lies,
|
|
208
|
|
|
Man was first driven from Paradise,
|
|
209
|
|
|
And man was chaste in Paradise, for sure.
|
| |
|
210
|
|
|
‘But hearken now, Thomas, I say more:
|
|
211
|
|
|
– I have no text of what I wish to say
|
|
212
|
|
|
But I shall seek it in a paraphrase –
|
|
213
|
|
|
For especially our sweet lord Jesus
|
|
214
|
|
|
Spoke of the friars, when he said thus:
|
|
215
|
|
|
“Blessed be those who poor in spirit be.”
|
|
216
|
|
|
And so in all the Gospel you may see,
|
|
217
|
|
|
Whether it is more like to our profession,
|
|
218
|
|
|
Or theirs who swim in riches and possessions.
|
|
219
|
|
|
Fie on their pomp, and their gluttony! Fie,
|
|
220
|
|
|
And as for sinfulness, I them defy.
|
| |
|
221
|
|
|
I liken them to that Jovinian,
|
|
222
|
|
|
Fat as a whale, and waddling like a swan,
|
|
223
|
|
|
As full of wine as a bottle, what’s the sense
|
|
224
|
|
|
In their saying prayers full of reverence,
|
|
225
|
|
|
And chanting for souls the Psalm of David:
|
|
226
|
|
|
“Lo, burp!” they sing, “cor meum eructavit!”
|
|
227
|
|
|
Who follows Christ’ gospel and his spoor,
|
|
228
|
|
|
But we the humble, the chaste and poor,
|
|
229
|
|
|
Workers of God’s word, not its auditors?
|
|
230
|
|
|
Therefore, right as a hawk that upward soars
|
|
231
|
|
|
Springs up into the air, right so the prayers
|
|
232
|
|
|
Of charitable, chaste and busy friars
|
|
233
|
|
|
Soar upwards towards God’s ears two.
|
|
234
|
|
|
Thomas, Thomas, as I live, say I too,
|
|
235
|
|
|
By that lord who is named Saint Ives,
|
|
236
|
|
|
Who’s not our brother, as you are, never thrives.
|
|
237
|
|
|
In our Chapter pray we day and night,
|
|
238
|
|
|
To Christ, that he send you health and might
|
|
239
|
|
|
To give you use of your body speedily.’
|
| |
|
240
|
|
|
‘God knows, quoth he, ‘none of it I feel!
|
|
241
|
|
|
So help me Christ, in but a few years
|
|
242
|
|
|
I have spent on every manner of friars
|
|
243
|
|
|
Full many a pound, yet never the better.
|
|
244
|
|
|
Indeed, it’s almost left me now a debtor;
|
|
245
|
|
|
Farewell my gold, it is gone long ago!’
|
| |
|
246
|
|
|
The Friar answered: ‘O Thomas, say you so?
|
|
247
|
|
|
What needed you those various friars seek?
|
|
248
|
|
|
What need has he who has a perfect leech
|
|
249
|
|
|
To go seeking other leeches round the town?
|
|
250
|
|
|
Your inconstancy shall bring you down!
|
|
251
|
|
|
Do you maintain that my, or else our convent’s,
|
|
252
|
|
|
Prayers for you have been insufficient?
|
|
253
|
|
|
Thomas, that raillery’s not worth a fiddle!
|
|
254
|
|
|
Your malady’s because we prayed too little.
|
|
255
|
|
|
Ah, give that convent half a quarter of oats!
|
|
256
|
|
|
Ah, give that convent four and twenty groats!
|
|
257
|
|
|
Ah, give that friar a penny and let him go!
|
|
258
|
|
|
Nay, nay, Thomas, it should not be so!
|
|
259
|
|
|
What is a farthing worth that’s cut in twelve?
|
|
260
|
|
|
Lo, each thing that’s united in itself
|
|
261
|
|
|
Is stronger than when it’s widely scattered.
|
|
262
|
|
|
Thomas, by me you shall not be flattered:
|
|
263
|
|
|
You would have all our labour for naught.
|
|
264
|
|
|
The great God, who all this world has wrought,
|
|
265
|
|
|
Says that the workman’s worthy of his hire.
|
|
266
|
|
|
Thomas, naught of your treasure I desire,
|
|
267
|
|
|
For myself, but only that our convent
|
|
268
|
|
|
Should pray for you and be diligent,
|
|
269
|
|
|
And for to build Christ’s own church.
|
|
270
|
|
|
Thomas if you would learn to do good works,
|
|
271
|
|
|
You may find if building, for your sin,
|
|
272
|
|
|
Is good, in the life of Thomas Saint of Inde.
|
|
273
|
|
|
You lie here full of anger and of ire
|
|
274
|
|
|
With which the devil sets your heart afire,
|
|
275
|
|
|
And chide here this foolish innocent
|
|
276
|
|
|
Your wife, who is so meek and so patient.
|
|
277
|
|
|
And therefore Thomas – believe me as you wish –
|
|
278
|
|
|
Strive not with your wife: that’s for the best.
|
|
279
|
|
|
And bear this word away now, by your faith,
|
|
280
|
|
|
Touching all this – hear, what the wise say:
|
|
281
|
|
|
“Within your house act not like a lion;
|
|
282
|
|
|
Against your household raise no oppression,
|
|
283
|
|
|
Nor serve to make your acquaintance flee.”
|
|
284
|
|
|
And Thomas, a second time I charge thee:
|
|
285
|
|
|
Beware of her that in your bosom sleeps!
|
|
286
|
|
|
Beware the serpent that so slyly creeps
|
|
287
|
|
|
Below the grass, and stings with subtlety.
|
|
288
|
|
|
Beware, my son, and listen patiently,
|
|
289
|
|
|
For twenty thousand men have lost their lives
|
|
290
|
|
|
In striving with their lovers and their wives.
|
|
291
|
|
|
Now since you have so holy and meek a wife,
|
|
292
|
|
|
What need have you, Thomas, to make strife?
|
|
293
|
|
|
Truly there is no serpent half so cruel
|
|
294
|
|
|
When man treads on his tail, or half so fell,
|
|
295
|
|
|
As woman is when she is full of fire,
|
|
296
|
|
|
Vengeance then is all that they desire.
|
|
297
|
|
|
Anger is sin, one of the deadly seven,
|
|
298
|
|
|
Abominable to the great God of Heaven,
|
|
299
|
|
|
And to the man himself it is destruction.
|
|
300
|
|
|
This every illiterate vicar or parson
|
|
301
|
|
|
Can tell you, ire engenders homicide.
|
|
302
|
|
|
Ire is, in truth, the executor of pride.
|
|
303
|
|
|
I could of ire tell you so much sorrow
|
|
304
|
|
|
My tale should last until tomorrow;
|
|
305
|
|
|
And therefore I pray God, both day and night,
|
|
306
|
|
|
God send the angry man no power or might!
|
|
307
|
|
|
It does great harm, and brings great misery,
|
|
308
|
|
|
To yield a wrathful man the mastery.
|
| |
|
309
|
|
|
‘One there was a wrathful potentate,
|
|
310
|
|
|
Seneca says, and while he ruled the state,
|
|
311
|
|
|
One fine day out rode there knights two.
|
|
312
|
|
|
And as Fortune willed, as she will do,
|
|
313
|
|
|
One of them came home, the other not.
|
|
314
|
|
|
Anon the knight before the judge was brought,
|
|
315
|
|
|
Who said thus: “You have your fellow slain,
|
|
316
|
|
|
For which I sentence you to death, again.”
|
|
317
|
|
|
And to another knight commanded he:
|
|
318
|
|
|
“Go, lead him to his death, I order thee.”
|
|
319
|
|
|
And so it came to pass as they went by
|
|
320
|
|
|
Towards the place where he should die,
|
|
321
|
|
|
The knight appeared whom men thought dead.
|
|
322
|
|
|
Then it seemed best that both be led
|
|
323
|
|
|
Straight back, returned to the judge again.
|
|
324
|
|
|
They said: “Lord, the knight has not slain
|
|
325
|
|
|
His fellow; here he stands, whole alive.”
|
|
326
|
|
|
“You shall die,” quoth he, “as I thrive!
|
|
327
|
|
|
That is to say, one and two and three.”
|
|
328
|
|
|
And to the first knight thus right spoke he:
|
|
329
|
|
|
“I condemned you; and you shall be dead.
|
|
330
|
|
|
And you, his fellow, also lose your head,
|
|
331
|
|
|
For you are the reason why this man must die.”
|
|
332
|
|
|
And on the third knight he cast his eye:
|
|
333
|
|
|
“You have not done as I commanded thee” –
|
|
334
|
|
|
And thus he had the knights slain, all three.
|
| |
|
335
|
|
|
Wrathful Cambyses was a drunkard too,
|
|
336
|
|
|
And loved to be a villain through and through.
|
|
337
|
|
|
And it so befell a lord of his company,
|
|
338
|
|
|
Who valued virtuous morality,
|
|
339
|
|
|
Said one day in private speech right thus:
|
|
340
|
|
|
“A lord is lost if he is vicious,
|
|
341
|
|
|
And drunkenness is foul to record
|
|
342
|
|
|
Of any man, especially a lord.
|
|
343
|
|
|
There is full many an eye and many an ear
|
|
344
|
|
|
Near to a lord, of which he’s not aware.
|
|
345
|
|
|
For God’s love, drink more temperately!
|
|
346
|
|
|
Wine makes man lose most wretchedly
|
|
347
|
|
|
His mind, and his limbs’ use, every one.”
|
| |
|
348
|
|
|
“The reverse,’ quoth the King, “you’ll see anon,
|
|
349
|
|
|
And prove it by your own experience,
|
|
350
|
|
|
That wine does to folk no such offence.
|
|
351
|
|
|
There is no wine shall rob me of my might
|
|
352
|
|
|
In hand or foot, nor of my own eyesight.”
|
|
353
|
|
|
And at that he drank as much and more
|
|
354
|
|
|
A hundredfold as he had done before.
|
|
355
|
|
|
And right anon this wrathful cursed wretch
|
|
356
|
|
|
Had this knight’s son before him fetched,
|
|
357
|
|
|
Commanding that before him he should stand,
|
|
358
|
|
|
And suddenly he took his bow in hand,
|
|
359
|
|
|
And pulled the string taut towards his ear,
|
|
360
|
|
|
And with an arrow slew the child right there.
|
|
361
|
|
|
“Now do I have a steady hand, or none?”
|
|
362
|
|
|
Quoth he. “Is all my mind and power gone?
|
|
363
|
|
|
Has wine deprived me of my eyesight?”
|
| |
|
364
|
|
|
What answer was there for the sorry knight?
|
|
365
|
|
|
His son was slain; there is no more to say.
|
|
366
|
|
|
Beware, therefore, with lords how you play.
|
|
367
|
|
|
Sing: “Placebo”, and “I shall if I can”,
|
|
368
|
|
|
Unless it be to some poor old man.
|
|
369
|
|
|
To a poor man men should his vices tell,
|
|
370
|
|
|
But not to a lord, though on his way to Hell.
|
| |
|
371
|
|
|
Behold, wrathful Cyrus, the Persian,
|
|
372
|
|
|
Who brought the river Gindes to ruin,
|
|
373
|
|
|
Because a horse of his was drowned therein,
|
|
374
|
|
|
When that he went for Babylon to win.
|
|
375
|
|
|
He ensured the river was left so narrow,
|
|
376
|
|
|
That women might wade across its shallows.
|
|
377
|
|
|
Lo, what Solomon taught, as none can:
|
|
378
|
|
|
“Be not the fellow to a wrathful man,
|
|
379
|
|
|
Nor with an angry man walk by the way
|
|
380
|
|
|
Lest you repent of it; that is all I say.”
|
| |
|
381
|
|
|
Now, Thomas, dear brother, cease your anger.
|
|
382
|
|
|
You’ll find me true as is a joiner’s square.
|
|
383
|
|
|
Hold not the devil’s knife towards your heart –
|
|
384
|
|
|
Your anger causes you a bitter smart –
|
|
385
|
|
|
But make to me your whole confession.’
|
| |
|
386
|
|
|
‘Nay,’ quoth the sick man, ‘by Saint Simon,
|
|
387
|
|
|
I’ve been shriven today by my curate.
|
|
388
|
|
|
I have told him of my whole estate;
|
|
389
|
|
|
There’s no more need to speak of it, said he,
|
|
390
|
|
|
Unless I wish, out of humility.’
|
| |
|
391
|
|
|
‘Give me of your gold then for our cloister,’
|
|
392
|
|
|
Quoth he, ‘for many a mussel and many an oyster,
|
|
393
|
|
|
When others have eaten well, many a day,
|
|
394
|
|
|
Have been our food, our cloister for to raise.
|
|
395
|
|
|
And yet, God knows, the bare foundation
|
|
396
|
|
|
Nor yet our pavement, is scarcely done
|
|
397
|
|
|
There’s not a tile yet been laid,’ he groans,
|
|
398
|
|
|
‘By God, we still owe forty pounds for stones!
|
|
399
|
|
|
Now help, Thomas, for Him that harrowed Hell,
|
|
400
|
|
|
Or else must we our books go and sell.
|
|
401
|
|
|
And if you lacked our true instruction,
|
|
402
|
|
|
Then goes the world to its destruction.
|
|
403
|
|
|
For who would this world of us bereave,
|
|
404
|
|
|
So God me save, Thomas, by your leave,
|
|
405
|
|
|
He would bereave this world of the sun.
|
|
406
|
|
|
For who can teach and work as we can?
|
|
407
|
|
|
And have, for no little time,’ quoth he,
|
|
408
|
|
|
‘For since Elijah, and Elisha, we,
|
|
409
|
|
|
The friars, have, as the books record,
|
|
410
|
|
|
Done charity, and thanks be to our Lord!
|
|
411
|
|
|
Now, Thomas, help, for holy charity!’
|
|
412
|
|
|
And down anon he went on bended knee.
|
|
413
|
|
|
The sick man was well nigh mad with ire;
|
|
414
|
|
|
He wished the friar might be set afire,
|
|
415
|
|
|
With his falsehood and dissimulation.
|
|
416
|
|
|
‘Such as I have in my possession’
|
|
417
|
|
|
Quoth he, ‘that may I give, I have no other.
|
|
418
|
|
|
Did you say to me I am your brother?’
|
| |
|
419
|
|
|
‘Yes, certainly,’ the friar said, ‘trust me;
|
|
420
|
|
|
I gave your dame a letter with our seal.’
|
| |
|
421
|
|
|
‘Well now,’ quoth he, ‘something I shall give
|
|
422
|
|
|
Unto your holy convent while I live.
|
|
423
|
|
|
And in your hand have it you shall anon –
|
|
424
|
|
|
On this and on no other condition:
|
|
425
|
|
|
That you share it out, my dear brother,
|
|
426
|
|
|
So each friar has as much as every other.
|
|
427
|
|
|
This shall you swear, on your profession,
|
|
428
|
|
|
Without fraud or equivocation.’
|
| |
|
429
|
|
|
‘I swear it,’ quoth the friar, ‘on my faith!’
|
|
430
|
|
|
And with that his hand in his he laid.
|
|
431
|
|
|
‘Lo here’s my faith, in me you’ll find no lack.’
|
| |
|
432
|
|
|
‘Now then, put your hand down behind my back,’
|
|
433
|
|
|
Said the man, ‘and grope around behind,
|
|
434
|
|
|
Beneath my buttocks; there you will find
|
|
435
|
|
|
A thing that I have hidden secretly.’
|
|
436
|
|
|
‘Ah!’ thought the friar, ‘that will do for me!’
|
|
437
|
|
|
And down his hand he sank to the cleft,
|
|
438
|
|
|
In hopes of finding there a little gift.
|
|
439
|
|
|
And when the sick man felt the friar
|
|
440
|
|
|
Groping round his arse, here and there,
|
|
441
|
|
|
Into the friar’s hand he let fall a fart.
|
|
442
|
|
|
There was no dray-horse pulling on a cart
|
|
443
|
|
|
That could have farted with a louder sound.
|
| |
|
444
|
|
|
The friar started up like an angry lion.
|
|
445
|
|
|
‘Ah, false churl!’ quoth he, ‘by God’s bones,
|
|
446
|
|
|
This was done for spite!’ The friar moans:
|
|
447
|
|
|
‘You’ll pay dearly for that fart, some day!’
|
| |
|
448
|
|
|
The servants, who heard the whole affray,
|
|
449
|
|
|
Came leaping in and chased him from the place,
|
|
450
|
|
|
And off he went with a full angry face,
|
|
451
|
|
|
And fetched his comrade and all his store
|
|
452
|
|
|
Of goods, and fierce as champs a wild boar,
|
|
453
|
|
|
He ground his teeth, so great was his wrath.
|
|
454
|
|
|
At a swift pace to the manor he strode off,
|
|
455
|
|
|
Where there lived a man of great honour,
|
|
456
|
|
|
To whom he had ever been his confessor;
|
|
457
|
|
|
This worthy man was lord of the village.
|
|
458
|
|
|
The friar came there in a blinding rage
|
|
459
|
|
|
Where the lord sat eating at his board.
|
|
460
|
|
|
The friar could hardly utter a word,
|
|
461
|
|
|
Till at last he said, ‘God be with thee!’
|
| |
|
462
|
|
|
The lord looked up, and said, ‘Benedicitee!
|
|
463
|
|
|
What, Friar John, what in the world is this?
|
|
464
|
|
|
I can see that something’s well amiss.
|
|
465
|
|
|
You look as if the wood was full of thieves!
|
|
466
|
|
|
Sit down anon, and tell me now what grieves,
|
|
467
|
|
|
And it shall be amended, if I may.’
|
| |
|
468
|
|
|
‘I have,’ quoth he, ‘received insult today,
|
|
469
|
|
|
God keep you, down there in your village,
|
|
470
|
|
|
Such that there’s never so lowly a page
|
|
471
|
|
|
But that he would find it an abomination
|
|
472
|
|
|
That which I have received in your town.
|
|
473
|
|
|
And yet nothing grieves me so sore
|
|
474
|
|
|
As that this old churl with locks hoar,
|
|
475
|
|
|
Has blasphemed our holy convent too.’
|
|
476
|
|
|
‘Now master,’ quoth the lord, ‘I beseech you –’
|
|
477
|
|
|
‘Not master,’ quoth he, ‘but your servitor!
|
|
478
|
|
|
Though the schools have done me that honour,
|
|
479
|
|
|
God wishes not that “Rabbi” men should call,
|
|
480
|
|
|
|
