The Canterbury Tales · The Pardoner’s Tale · The Tale 3505 (2/2)

These riotoúrës three, of which I tell,

Long erst than3599 primë rang of any bell,

Were set them in a tavern for to drink;

And as they sat, they heard a bellë clink

Before a corpse, was carried to the grave.

That one of them gan callë to his knave,3600

“Go bet,”3601 quoth he, “and askë readily

What corpse is this, that passeth here forth by;

And look that thou report his namë well.”

“Sir,” quoth the boy, “it needeth never a deal;3602

It was me told ere ye came here two hours;

He was, pardie, an old fellów of yours,

And suddenly he was y-slain tonight;

Fordrunk3603 as he sat on his bench upright,

There came a privy thief, men clepë Death,

That in this country all the people slay’th,

And with his spear he smote his heart in two,

And went his way withoutë wordës mo’.

He hath a thousand slain this pestilence;

And, master, ere you come in his presénce,

Me thinketh that it were full necessary

For to beware of such an adversary;

Be ready for to meet him evermore.

Thus taughtë me my dame; I say no more.”

“By Saintë Mary,” said the tavernére,

“The child saith sooth, for he hath slain this year,

Hence ov’r a mile, within a great villáge,

Both man and woman, child, and hind, and page;

I trow his habitatión be there;

To be advised3604 great wisdóm it were,

Ere3605 that he did a man a dishonoúr.”

“Yea, Goddë’s armës,” quoth this riotoúr,

“Is it such peril with him for to meet?

I shall him seek, by stile and eke by street.

I make a vow, by Goddë’s dignë3606 bones.

Hearken, fellóws, we three be allë ones:3607

Let each of us hold up his hand to other,

And each of us become the other’s brother,

And we will slay this falsë traitor Death;

He shall be slain, he that so many slay’th,

By Goddë’s dignity, ere it be night.”

Together have these three their trothë plight

To live and die each one of them for other

As though he were his owen boren3608 brother.

And up they start, all drunken, in this rage,

And forth they go towárdës that villáge

Of which the taverner had spoke beforn,

And many a grisly3609 oathë have they sworn,

And Christë’s blessed body they to-rent;3610

“Death shall be dead, if that we may him hent.”3611

When they had gone not fully half a mile,

Right as they would have trodden o’er a stile,

An old man and a poorë with them met.

This oldë man full meekëly them gret,3612

And saidë thus; “Now, lordës, God you see!”3613

The proudest of these riotoúrës three

Answér’d again; “What? churl, with sorry grace,

Why art thou all forwrapped3614 save thy face?

Why livest thou so long in so great age?”

This oldë man gan look on his viságe,

And saidë thus; “For that I cannot find

A man, though that I walked unto Ind,

Neither in city, nor in no villáge,

That wouldë change his youthë for mine age;

And therefore must I have mine agë still

As longë time as it is Goddë’s will.

And Death, alas! he will not have my life.

Thus walk I like a restëless caitífe,3615

And on the ground, which is my mother’s gate,

I knockë with my staff, early and late,

And say to her, ‘Leve3616 mother, let me in.

Lo, how I wanë, flesh, and blood, and skin;

Alas! when shall my bonës be at rest?

Mother, with you I wouldë change my chest,

That in my chamber longë time hath be,

Yea, for an hairy clout to wrap in me.’3617

But yet to me she will not do that grace,

For which fall pale and welked3618 is my face.

But, Sirs, to you it is no courtesy

To speak unto an old man villainy,

But3619 he trespass in word or else in deed.

In Holy Writ ye may yourselvës read;

‘Against3620 an old man, hoar upon his head,

Ye should arisë:’ therefore I you rede,3621

Ne do unto an old man no harm now,

No morë than ye would a man did you

In age, if that ye may so long abide.

And God be with you, whether ye go or ride.

I must go thither as I have to go.”

“Nay, oldë churl, by God thou shalt not so,”

Saidë this other hazardor anon;

“Thou partest not so lightly, by Saint John.

Thou spakest right now of that traitor Death,

That in this country all our friendës slay’th;

Have here my troth, as thou art his espy;3622

Tell where he is, or thou shalt it abie,3623

By God and by the holy sacrament;

For soothly thou art one of his assent

To slay us youngë folk, thou falsë thief.”

“Now, Sirs,” quoth he, “if it be you so lief3624

To findë Death, turn up this crooked way,

For in that grove I left him, by my fay,

Under a tree, and there he will abide;

Nor for your boast he will him nothing hide.

See ye that oak? right there ye shall him find.

God savë you, that bought again mankind,

And you amend!” Thus said this oldë man;

And evereach of these riotoúrës ran,

Till they came to the tree, and there they found

Of florins fine, of gold y-coined round,

Well nigh a seven bushels, as them thought.

No longer as then after Death they sought;

But each of them so glad was of the sight,

For that the florins were so fair and bright,

That down they sat them by the precious hoard.

The youngest of them spake the firstë word:

“Brethren,” quoth he, “take keep what I shall say;

My wit is great, though that I bourde3625 and play.

This treasure hath Fortúne unto us given

In mirth and jollity our life to liven;

And lightly as it comes, so will we spend.

Hey! Goddë’s precious dignity! who wend3626

To-day that we should have so fair a grace?

But might this gold he carried from this place

Home to my house, or ellës unto yours

(For well I wot that all this gold is ours),

Then werë we in high felicitý.

But truëly by day it may not be;

Men wouldë say that we were thievës strong,

And for our owen treasure do us hong.3627

This treasure mustë carried be by night,

As wisely and as slily as it might.

Wherefore I rede,3628 that cut3629 among us all

We draw, and let see where the cut will fall:

And he that hath the cut, with heartë blithe

Shall run unto the town, and that full swithe,3630

And bring us bread and wine full privily:

And two of us shall keepë subtilly

This treasure well: and if he will not tarry,

When it is night, we will this treasure carry,

By one assent, where as us thinketh best.”

Then one of them the cut brought in his fist,

And bade them draw, and look where it would fall;

And it fell on the youngest of them all;

And forth toward the town he went anon.

And all so soon as that he was y-gone,

The one of them spake thus unto the other;

“Thou knowest well that thou art my sworn brother,

Thy profit3631 will I tell thee right anon.

Thou knowest well that our fellów is gone,

And here is gold, and that full great plentý,

That shall departed3632 he among us three.

But natheless, if I could shape3633 it so

That it departed were among us two,

Had I not done a friendë’s turn to thee?”

Th’ other answér’d, “I n’ot3634 how that may be;

He knows well that the gold is with us tway.

What shall we do? what shall we to him say?”

“Shall it be counsel?”3635 said the firstë shrew;3636

“And I shall tell to thee in wordës few

What we shall do, and bring it well about.”

“I grantë,” quoth the other, “out of doubt,

That by my truth I will thee not bewray.”

“Now,” quoth the first, “thou know’st well we be tway,

And two of us shall stronger be than one.

Look, when that he is set,3637 thou right anon

Arise, as though thou wouldest with him play;

And I shall rive him through the sidës tway,

While that thou strugglest with him as in game;

And with thy dagger look thou do the same.

And then shall all this gold departed be,

My dearë friend, betwixtë thee and me:

Then may we both our lustës3638 all fulfil,

And play at dice right at our owen will.”

And thus accorded3639 be these shrewës3640 tway

To slay the third, as ye have heard me say.

The youngest, which that wentë to the town,

Full oft in heart he rolled up and down

The beauty of these florins new and bright.

“O Lord!” quoth he, “if so were that I might

Have all this treasure to myself alone,

There is no man that lives under the throne

Of God, that shouldë have so merry as I.”

And at the last the fiend our enemy

Put in his thought, that he should poison buy,

With which he mightë slay his fellows twy.3641

For why, the fiend found him in such livíng,3642

That he had leave to sorrow him to bring.

For this was utterly his full intent

To slay them both, and never to repent.

And forth he went, no longer would he tarry,

Into the town to an apothecáry,

And prayed him that he him wouldë sell

Some poison, that he might his rattës quell,3643

And eke there was a polecat in his haw,3644

That, as he said, his capons had y-slaw:3645

And fain he would him wreak,3646 if that he might,

Of vermin that destroyed him by night.

Th’ apothecary answer’d, “Thou shalt have

A thing, as wisly3647 God my soulë save,

In all this world there is no creatúre

That eat or drank hath of this cónfectúre,

Not but the mountance3648 of a corn of wheat,

That he shall not his life anon forlete;3649

Yea, sterve3650 he shall, and that in lessë while

Than thou wilt go apace3651 nought but a mile:

This poison is so strong and violent.”

This cursed man hath in his hand y-hent3652

This poison in a box, and swift he ran

Into the nextë street, unto a man,

And borrow’d of him largë bottles three;

And in the two the poison poured he;

The third he keptë clean for his own drink,

For all the night he shope him3653 for to swink3654

In carrying off the gold out of that place.

And when this riotoúr, with sorry grace,

Had fill’d with wine his greatë bottles three,

To his fellóws again repaired he.

What needeth it thereof to sermon3655 more?

For, right as they had cast3656 his death before,

Right so they have him slain, and that anon.

And when that this was done, thus spake the one;

“Now let us sit and drink, and make us merry,

And afterward we will his body bury.”

And with that word it happen’d him par cas3657

To take the bottle where the poison was,

And drank, and gave his fellow drink also,

For which anon they sterved3658 both the two.

But certes I suppose that Avicen

Wrote never in no canon, nor no fen,3659

More wondrous signës of empoisoníng,

Than had these wretches two ere their endíng.

Thus ended be these homicidës two,

And eke the false empoisoner also.

O cursed sin, full of all cursedness!

O trait’rous homicide! O wickedness!

O glutt’ny, luxury, and hazardry!

Thou blasphemer of Christ with villany,3660

And oathës great, of usage and of pride!

Alas! mankindë, how may it betide,

That to thy Creatór, which that thee wrought,

And with his precious heartë-blood thee bought,

Thou art so false and so unkind,3661 alas!

Now, good men, God forgive you your trespáss,

And ware3662 you from the sin of avaríce.

Mine holy pardon may you all waríce,3663

So that ye offer nobles or sterlings,3664

Or ellës silver brooches, spoons, or rings.

Bowë your head under this holy bull.

Come up, ye wives, and offer of your will;

Your names I enter in my roll anon;

Into the bliss of heaven shall ye gon;

I you assoil3665 by minë high powére,

You that will offer, as clean and eke as clear

As ye were born. Lo, Sirës, thus I preach;

And Jesus Christ, that is our soulës’ leech,3666

So grantë you his pardon to receive;

For that is best, I will not deceive.

But, Sirs, one word forgot I in my tale;

I have relícs and pardon in my mail,

As fair as any man in Engleland,

Which were me given by the Popë’s hand.

If any of you will of devotión

Offer, and have mine absolutión,

Come forth anon, and kneelë here adown,

And meekëly receivë my pardoún.

Or ellës takë pardon, as ye wend,3667

All new and fresh at every townë’s end,

So that ye offer, always new and new,

Nobles or pence which that be good and true.

’Tis an honoúr to evereach that is here,

That ye have a suffisant pardonére

T’ assoilë3668 you in country as ye ride,

For áventúrës which that may betide.

Paráventure there may fall one or two

Down of his horse, and break his neck in two.

Look, what a surety is it to you all,

That I am in your fellowship y-fall,

That may assoil you bothë more and lass,3669

When that the soul shall from the body pass.

I redë3670 that our Hostë shall begin,

For he is most enveloped in sin.

Come forth, Sir Host, and offer first anon,

And thou shalt kiss; the relics every one,

Yea, for a groat; unbuckle anon thy purse.

“Nay, nay,” quoth he, “then have I Christë’s curse!

Let be,” quoth he, “it shall not be, so thé ’ch.3671

Thou wouldest make me kiss thine oldë breech,

And swear it were a relic of a saint,

Though it were with thy fundament depaint’.

But, by the cross which that Saint Helen fand,3672

I would I had thy coilons in mine hand,

Instead of relics, or of sanctuary.

Let cut them off, I will thee help them carry;

They shall be shrined in a hoggë’s tord.”

The Pardoner answered not one word;

So wroth he was, no wordë would he say.

“Now,” quoth our Host, “I will no longer play

With thee, nor with none other angry man.”

But right anon the worthy Knight began

(When that he saw that all the people lough3673),

“No more of this, for it is right enough.

Sir Pardoner, be merry and glad of cheer;

And ye, Sir Host, that be to me so dear,

I pray you that ye kiss the Pardoner;

And, Pardoner, I pray thee draw thee ner,3674

And as we diddë, let us laugh and play.”

Anon they kiss’d, and rodë forth their way.