The Canterbury Tales · The Sompnour’s Tale · The Tale (1/2)

The Tale

Lordings, there is in Yorkshire, as I guess,

A marshy country callëd Holderness,

In which there went a limitour about

To preach, and eke to beg, it is no doubt.

And so befell that on a day this frere

Had preached at a church in his mannére,

And speciálly, above every thing,

Excited he the people in his preaching

To trentals,2259 and to give, for Goddë’s sake,

Wherewith men mightë holy houses make,

There as divinë service is honoúr’d,

Not there as it is wasted and devoúr’d,

Nor where it needeth not for to be given,

As to possessioners,2260 that may liven,

Thanked be God, in wealth and abundánce.

“Trentals,” said he, “deliver from penánce

Their friendës’ soulës, as well old as young,

Yea, when that they be hastily y-sung⁠—

Not for to hold a priest jolly and gay,

He singeth not but one mass in a day.

Deliver out,” quoth he, “anon the souls.

Full hard it is, with flesh-hook or with owls

To be y-clawed, or to burn or bake:2261

Now speed you hastily, for Christë’s sake.”

And when this friar had said all his intent,

With qui cum patre2262 forth his way he went,

When folk in church had giv’n him what them lest;2263

He went his way, no longer would he rest,

With scrip and tipped staff, y-tucked high:2264

In every house he gan to pore2265 and pry,

And begged meal and cheese, or ellës corn.

His fellow had a staff tipped with horn,

A pair of tables2266 all of ivory,

And a pointel2267 y-polish’d fetisly,2268

And wrote alway the namës, as he stood,

Of all the folk that gave them any good,

Askauncë2269 that he wouldë for them pray.

“Give us a bushel wheat, or malt, or rey,2270

A Goddë’s kichel,2271 or a trip2272 of cheese,

Or ellës what you list, we may not chese;2273

A Goddë’s halfpenny, or a mass penny;

Or give us of your brawn, if ye have any;

A dagon2274 of your blanket, levë dame,

Our sister dear⁠—lo, here I write your name⁠—

Bacon or beef, or such thing as ye find.”

A sturdy harlot2275 went them aye behind,

That was their hostë’s man, and bare a sack,

And what men gave them, laid it on his back.

And when that he was out at door, anon

He planed away the namës every one,

That he before had written in his tables:

He served them with nifles2276 and with fables.⁠—

“Nay, there thou liest, thou Sompnour,” quoth the Frere.

“Peace,” quoth our Host, “for Christë’s mother dear;

Tell forth thy tale, and spare it not at all.”

“So thrive I,” quoth this Sompnour, “so I shall.”⁠—

So long he went from house to house, till he

Came to a house, where he was wont to be

Refreshed more than in a hundred places.

Sick lay the husband man, whose that the place is,

Bedrid upon a couchë low he lay:

“Deus hic,”2277 quoth he; “O Thomas friend, good day,”

Said this friár, all courteously and soft.

“Thomas,” quoth he, “God yield it you,2278 full oft

Have I upon this bench fared full well,

Here have I eaten many a merry meal.”

And from the bench he drove away the cat,

And laid adown his potent2279 and his hat,

And eke his scrip, and sat himself adown:

His fellow was y-walked into town

Forth with his knave,2280 into that hostelry

Where as he shopë2281 him that night to lie.

“O dearë master,” quoth this sickë man,

“How have ye fared since that March began?

I saw you not this fortënight and more.”

“God wot,” quoth he, “laboúr’d have I full sore;

And specially for thy salvatión

Have I said many a precious orison,

And for mine other friendës, God them bless.

I have this day been at your church at mess,2282

And said sermón after my simple wit,

Not all after the text of Holy Writ;

For it is hard to you, as I suppose,

And therefore will I teach you aye the glose.2283

Glosing is a full glorious thing certáin,

For letter slayeth, as we clerkës2284 sayn.

There have I taught them to be charitable,

And spend their good where it is reasonable.

And there I saw our damë; where is she?”

“Yonder I trow that in the yard she be,”

Saidë this man; “and she will come anon.”

“Hey master, welcome be ye by Saint John,”

Saidë this wife; “how fare ye heartily?”

This friar riseth up full courteously,

And her embraceth in his armës narrow,2285

And kiss’th her sweet, and chirketh as a sparrow

With his lippës: “Damë,” quoth he, “right well,

As he that is your servant every deal.2286

Thanked be God, that gave you soul and life,

Yet saw I not this day so fair a wife

In all the churchë, God so savë me,”

“Yea, God amend defaultës, Sir,” quoth she;

“Algatës2287 welcome be ye, by my fay.”

“Grand mercy, Dame; that have I found alway.

But of your greatë goodness, by your leave,

I wouldë pray you that ye not you grieve,

I will with Thomas speak a little throw:2288

These curates be so negligent and slow

To gropë tenderly a conscience.

In shrift2289 and preaching is my diligence

And study in Peter’s wordës and in Paul’s;

I walk and fishë Christian mennë’s souls,

To yield our Lord Jesus his proper rent;

To spread his word is allë mine intent.”

“Now by your faith, O dearë Sir,” quoth she,

“Chide him right well, for saintë charity.

He is aye angry as is a pismire,

Though that he have all that he can desire,

Though I him wrie2290 at night, and make him warm,

And ov’r him lay my leg and eke mine arm,

He groaneth as our boar that lies in sty:

Other disport of him right none have I,

I may not please him in no manner case.”2291

“O Thomas, je vous dis, Thomas, Thomas,

This maketh the fiend,2292 this must be amended.

Ire is a thing that high God hath defended,2293

And thereof will I speak a word or two.”

“Now, master,” quoth the wife, “ere that I go,

What will ye dine? I will go thereabout.”

“Now, Damë,” quoth he, “je vous dis sans doute,

Had I not of a capon but the liver,

And of your whitë bread not but a shiver,2294

And after that a roasted piggë’s head,

(But I would that for me no beast were dead,)

Then had I with you homely suffisánce.

I am a man of little sustenánce.

My spirit hath its fost’ring in the Bible.

My body is aye so ready and penible2295

To wakë,2296 that my stomach is destroy’d.

I pray you, Dame, that ye be not annoy’d,

Though I so friendly you my counsel shew;

By God, I would have told it but to few.”

“Now, Sir,” quoth she, “but one word ere I go;

My child is dead within these weekës two,

Soon after that ye went out of this town.”

“His death saw I by revelatioún,”

Said this friar, “at home in our dortour.2297

I dare well say, that less than half an hour

After his death, I saw him borne to bliss

In minë vision, so God me wiss.2298

So did our sexton, and our fermerere,2299

That have been truë friars fifty year⁠—

They may now, God be thanked of his love,

Makë their jubilee, and walk above.2300

And up I rose, and all our convent eke,

With many a tearë trilling on my cheek,

Withoutë noise or clattering of bells,

“Te Deum” was our song, and nothing else,

Save that to Christ I bade an orison,

Thanking him of my revelatión.

For, Sir and Damë, trustë me right well,

Our orisons be more effectuel,

And more we see of Christë’s secret things,

Than borel folk,2301 although that they be kings.

We live in povert’, and in abstinence,

And borel folk in riches and dispence

Of meat and drink, and in their foul delight.

We have this worldë’s lust2302 all in despight2303

Lazar and Dives lived diversely,

And diverse guerdon haddë they thereby.

Whoso will pray, he must fast and be clean,

And fat his soul, and keep his body lean.

We fare as saith th’ apostle; cloth2304 and food

Suffice us, although they be not full good.

The cleanness and the fasting of us freres

Maketh that Christ accepteth our prayéres.

Lo, Moses forty days and forty night

Fasted, ere that the high God full of might

Spake with him in the mountain of Sinái:

With empty womb of fasting many a day

Received he the lawë, that was writ

With Goddë’s finger; and Eli,2305 well ye wit,2306

In Mount Horeb, ere he had any speech

With highë God, that is our livës’ leech,2307

He fasted long, and was in contemplánce.

Aaron, that had the temple in governánce,

And eke the other priestës every one,

Into the temple when they shouldë gon

To prayë for the people, and do service,

They wouldë drinken in no manner wise

No drinkë, which that might them drunken make,

But there in abstinencë pray and wake,2308

Lest that they diëd: take heed what I say⁠—

But2309 they be sober that for the people pray⁠—

Ware that, I say⁠—no more: for it sufficeth.

Our Lord Jesus, as Holy Writ deviseth,2310

Gave us example of fasting and prayéres:

Therefore we mendicants, we sely2311 freres,

Be wedded to povert’ and continence,

To charity, humbless, and abstinence,

To persecutión for righteousness,

To weeping, misericorde,2312 and to cleannéss.

And therefore may ye see that our prayéres

(I speak of us, we mendicants, we freres),

Be to the highë God more acceptable

Than yourës, with your feastës at your table.

From Paradise first, if I shall not lie,

Was man out chased for his gluttony,

And chaste was man in Paradise certáin.

But hark now, Thomas, what I shall thee sayn;

I have no text of it, as I suppose,

But I shall find it in a manner glose;2313

That speciálly our sweet Lord Jesus

Spake this of friars, when he saidë thus,

‘Blessed be they that poor in spirit be.’

And so forth all the gospel may ye see,

Whether it be liker our professión,

Or theirs that swimmen in possessión;

Fy on their pomp, and on their gluttony,

And on their lewëdness! I them defy.

Me thinketh they be like Jovinian,2314

Fat as a whale, and walking as a swan;

All vinolent as bottle in the spence;2315

Their prayer is of full great reverence;

When they for soulës say the Psalm of David,

Lo, ‘Buf’ they say, Cor meum eructavit.2316

Who follow Christë’s gospel and his lore2317

But we, that humble be, and chaste, and pore,2318

Workers of Goddë’s word, not auditoúrs?2319

Therefore right as a hawk upon a sours2320

Up springs into the air, right so prayéres

Of charitable and chaste busy freres

Makë their sours to Goddë’s earës two.

Thomas, Thomas, so may I ride or go,

And by that lord that callëd is Saint Ive,

N’ere thou our brother, shouldest thou not thrive;2321

In our chapíter pray we day and night

To Christ, that he thee sendë health and might,

Thy body for to wieldë hastily.”2322

“God wot,” quoth he, “nothing thereof feel I;

So help me Christ, as I in fewë years

Have spended upon divers manner freres2323

Full many a pound, yet fare I ne’er the bet;2324

Certain my good have I almost beset:2325

Farewell my gold, for it is all ago.”2326

The friar answér’d, “O Thomas, dost thou so?

What needest thou diversë friars to seech?2327

What needeth him that hath a perfect leech,

To seeken other leeches in the town?

Your inconstánce is your confusioún.

Hold ye then me, or ellës our convént,

To prayë for you insufficiént?

Thomas, that jape2328 it is not worth a mite;

Your malady is for we have too lite.2329

Ah, give that convent half a quarter oats;

And give that convent four and twenty groats;

And give that friar a penny, and let him go!

Nay, nay, Thomas, it may no thing be so.

What is a farthing worth parted on twelve?

Lo, each thing that is oned2330 in himselve

Is morë strong than when it is y-scatter’d.

Thomas, of me thou shalt not be y-flatter’d,

Thou wouldest have our labour all for nought.

The highë God, that all this world hath wrought,

Saith, that the workman worthy is his hire.

Thomas, nought of your treasure I desire

As for myself, but that all our convént

To pray for you is aye so diligent:

And for to buildë Christë’s owen church.

Thomas, if ye will learnë for to wirch,2331

Of building up of churches may ye find

If it be good, in Thomas’ life of Ind.

Ye lie here full of anger and of ire,

With which the devil sets your heart on fire,

And chidë here this holy innocent

Your wife, that is so meek and patiént.

And therefore trow2332 me, Thomas, if thee lest,2333

Ne strive not with thy wife, as for the best.

And bear this word away now, by thy faith,

Touching such thing, lo, what the wise man saith:

‘Within thy housë be thou no lión;

To thy subjécts do none oppressión;

Nor make thou thine acquaintance for to flee.’

And yet, Thomas, eftsoonës2334 charge I thee,

Beware from ire that in thy bosom sleeps,

Ware from the serpent, that so slily creeps

Under the grass, and stingeth subtilly.

Beware, my son, and hearken patiently,

That twenty thousand men have lost their lives

For striving with their lemans2335 and their wives.

Now since ye have so holy and meek a wife,

What needeth you, Thomas, to makë strife?

There is, y-wis,2336 no serpent so cruél,

When men tread on his tail nor half so fell,2337

As woman is, when she hath caught an ire;

Very2338 vengeánce is then all her desire.

Ire is a sin, one of the greatë seven,2339

Abominable to the God of heaven,

And to himself it is destructión.

This every lewëd2340 vicar and parsón

Can say, how ire engenders homicide;

Ire is in sooth th’ executor2341 of pride.

I could of ire you say so muchë sorrow,

My tale shouldë last until to-morrow.

And therefore pray I God both day and night,

An irous2342 man God send him little might.

It is great harm, and certes great pitý

To set an irous man in high degree.