552

555

Ther nas no dore that he nolde heve of harre,1
Or breke it at a rennyng with his heed.
His berd, as any sowe or fox, was reed,
And therto brood, as though it were a spade.
Upon the cope2 right of his nose he hade
A werte, and thereon stood a toft of herys,
Reed as the brustles of a sowes erys;
His nosėthirlės blakė were and wyde;
A swerd and a bokeler bar he by his syde;
His mouth as wyde was as a greet forneys,
He was a janglere and a goliardeys,3
And that was moost of synne and harlotriės.
Wel koude he stelen corn and tollen thries,
And yet he hadde a thombe of golde, pardee,
A whit cote and a blew hood wered he.
A baggepipe wel koude he blowe and sowne,
And therwithal he broghte us out of towne.

560

564

569

A gentil MAUNCIPLE was ther of a temple, Of which achatours" myghte take exemple For to be wise in byynge of vitaille; For, wheither that he payde or took by taille," Algates he wayted' so in his achaat10 That he was ay biforn11 and in good staat. Now is nat that of God a ful fair grace That swich a lewed 12 mannės wit shal pace The wisdom of an heepe of lerned men? Of maistres hadde he mo than thriės ten, That weren of lawe expert and curious, Of wiche ther weren a duszeyne in that hous Worthy to been stywardes of rente and lond Of any lord that is in Engelond,

575

580

585

In any caas that myghte falle or happe;
And yet this Manciple sette hir aller cappe."

Ful longe were his legges and ful lene,
Y-lyk a staf, ther was no calf y-sene.
Wel koude he kepe a gerner and a bynne,
Ther was noon auditour koude on him wynne.
Wel wiste he, by the droghte and by the reyn,
The yeldynge of his seed and of his greyn.
His lordes sheepe, his neet," his dayérye,
His swyn, his hors, his stoor,18 and his pultrye,
Was hoolly in this revès governyng,
And by his covenant yaf the rekenyng

1 Heave off its hinges.

Loud and ribald jester.

596

600

2 Tip.

Millers were allowed as toll a certain proportion of the grain in payment for the grinding. This miller tolled thrice, i. e. took three times the legal quantity of grain.

An allusion to the proverb "An honest miller has a thumb of gold." The line may be ironical,-he stole corn, he tolled thrice, and yet was honest enough for a miller. The proverb itself is ambiguous, and the passage obscure.

Buyers.

8 Always.

7 Tally, i. e. charged the goods. • Watched. 10 Buying.

12 Ignorant.

14 Without debts.

16 Outwitted them all.

18 Farm stock.

Nor of the knobbės sittynge on his chekes.
Wel loved he garleek, oynons, and eke lekes,634
And for to drynken strong wyn, reed as blood;
Thanne wolde he speke, and crie as he were

wood.36

And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn,

640

Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn.
A fewė termes37 hadde he, two or thre,
That he had lerned out of som decree,-
No wonder is, he herde it al the day,
And eek ye knowen wel how that a jay
Kan clepen WATTE38 as wel as kan the pope.
But whoso koude in oother thyng hym grope,
Thanne hadde he spent all his philosophie;
Ay Questio quid juris wolde he crie.
He was a gentil harlot and a kynde;
A bettre felawe sholdė men noght fynde.
A gerland" hadde he set upon his heed,

As greet as it were for an alė stake;
A bokeleer hadde he maad him of a cake.1

With hym ther rood a gentil PARDONER Of Rouncivale,2 his freend and his compeer, 670 That streight was comen fro the court of Rome.

675

Ful loude he soong Com hider, love to me!
This Somonour bar to hym a stif burdoun,3
Was never trompe of half so greet a soun.
This Pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex
But smothe it heeng as dooth a strike of flex;"
By ounces henge his lokkės that he hadde,
And therwith he his shuldres overspradde.
But thynne it lay by colpons oon and oon;
But hood, for jolitee, ne wered he noon,
For it was trussed up in his walet.
Hym thoughte he rood al of the newė jet;
Dischevelee, save his cappe, he rood al bare.
Swiche glarynge eyen hadde he as an hare,

680

A vernycle hadde he sowed upon his cappe; 685
His walet lay biforn hym in his lappe
Bret-fuls of pardon, comen from Rome al
hoot.

692

695

A voys he hadde as smal as hath a goot;
But of his craft, fro Berwyk unto Ware
Ne was ther swich another pardoner,
For in his male' he hadde a pilwe-beer, 10
Which that, he seyde, was oure lady veyl;
He seyde he hadde a gobet11 of the seyl
That Seinté Peter hadde, whan that he wente
Upon the see, til Jhesu Crist hym hente.12
He hadde a croys of latoun,13 ful of stones,
And in a glas he hadde piggés bones.
But with thise relikes, whan that he fond
A pouré person dwellynge upon lond,
Upon a day he gat hym moore moneye
Than that the person gat in monthes tweye;
And thus with feyned flaterye and japes14 705
He made the person and the peple his apes.
But, trewely to tellen atté laste,

He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste;
Wel koude he rede a lessoun or a storie,

But alderbest he song an Offertorie;

700

710

For wel he wistė whan that song was songe,
He mosté preche, and wel affile his tonge
To wynné silver, as he ful wel koude;
Therefore he song the murierly 15 and loude.

Now have I toold you shortly, in a clause, 715 The staat, tharray, the nombre, and eek the

Whan we were in that hostelrie alyght;
And after wol I telle of our viage
And al the remenaunt of oure pilgrimage.

730

But first, I pray yow of youre curteisye, 725 That ye narette it nat my vileynye,17 Thogh that I pleynly speke in this mateere To telle yow hir wordes and hir cheere, 18 Ne thogh I speke hir wordes proprely;19 For this ye knowen al-so wel as I, Whoso shal telle a tale after a man, He moote reherce, as ny as ever he kan, Everich a word, if it be in his charge, Al speke he never so rudéliche20 or large; Or ellis he moot telle his tale untrewe, Or feyné thyng, or fynde wordės newe. He may nat spare, althogh he were his brother; He moot as wel seye o word as another. Crist spak hymself ful brode in hooly writ, And wel ye woot no vileynye is it.

735

740

Eek Plato seith, whoso that kan hym rede, "The wordės moote be cosyn to the dede.'

Also I prey yow to foryeve it me

744

Al have I nat set folk in hir degree
Heere in this tale, as that they sholde stonde;
My wit is short, ye may wel understonde.

Greet chiere made oure hoost us everichon, And to the soper sette he us anon,

And served us with vitaille at the beste: Strong was the wyn and wel to drynke us leste.21

750

A semely man OUR HOOSTE was with-alle For to han been a marchal in an halle. A large man he was, with eyen stepe,

754

A fairer burgeys is ther noon in Chepe;22
Boold of his speche, and wys and well y-taught,
And of manhod hym lakkede right naught.
Eek therto he was right a myrie man,

And after soper pleyen he bigan,

And spak of myrthe amonges othere thynges,
Whan that we haddė maad our rekenynges; 760
And seyde thus: "Now, lordynges, trewėly,
Ye been to me right welcome, hertély;
For by my trouthe, if that I shal nat lye,
I ne saugh this yeer so myrie a compaignye
At ones in this herberwe23 as is now;
Fayn wolde I doon yow myrthe, wiste I how.
And of a myrthe I am right now bythoght,
To doon yow ese, and it shal coste noght.

765

775

"Ye goon to Canterbury-God yow speede, The blisful martir quite yow youre meede!24 770 And, wel I woot, as ye goon by the weye, Ye shapen yow to talen25 and to pleye; For trewėly confort ne myrthe is noon To ride by the weye doumb as a stoon; And therfore wol I maken yow disport, As I seyde erste, and doon yow som confort. And if you liketh alle, by oon assent, Now for to stonden at my juggėment, And for to werken as I shal yow seye, To-morwė, whan ye riden by the weye, Now, by my fader soule, that is deed, But ye be myrie, smyteth of myn heed!

Sire Knyght," quod he, "my mayster and my lord,

Now draweth cut, for that is myn accord.
Cometh neer," quod he, "my lady Prioresse, 839
And ye sire Clerk, lat be your shamefastnesse,
Ne studieth noght; ley hond to, every man."
Anon to drawen every wight bigan,
And, shortly for to tellen as it was,
Were it by aventure, or sort, or cas, 10
The sothe is this, the cut fil to the knyght,
Of which ful blithe and glad was every wyght:
And telle he moste his tale, as was resoun,'
11
By foreward12 and by composicioun,
As he han herd; what nedeth wordės mo?
And whan this goode man saugh that it was so,
As he that wys was and obedient

845

849

To kepe his foreward by his free assent,
He seydė, "Syn I shal bigynne the game,
What, welcome be the cut, a Goddės name! 854
Now lat us ryde, and herkneth what I seye."
And with that word we ryden forth oure weye;
And he bigan with right a myrie cheere
His tale anon, and seyde in this manère.

THE PARDONER'S TALE

665

Thise riotoures thre, of whiche I telle, Longe erst er primè13 rong of any belle, Were set hem in a taverne for to drynke; And as they sat they herde a belle clynke Biforn a cors, was carried to his grave. That oon of hem gan callen to his knave:14 "Go bet," quod he, "and axe redily 15 What cors is this that passeth heer forby, And looke that thou reporte his name weel.” "Sire," quod this boy, "it nedeth never a deel, It was me toold er ye cam heere two houres; 671 He was, pardee, an old felawe of youres, And sodeynly he was y-slayn to-nyght, For-dronke, as he sat on his bench upright; Ther cam a privee theef, men clepeth Deeth,675 That in this contree al the peple sleeth, And with his spere he smoot his herte atwo, And wente his wey withouten wordės mo. He hath a thousand slayn this pestilence,1o And maister, er ye come in his presence, Me thynketh that it were necessarie For to be war of swich an adversarie; Beth redy for to meete hym evermoore; Thus taughte me my dame; I sey na-moore." By Seinte Marie!" seyde this taverner, 685 "The child seith sooth, for he hath slayn this yeer,

680

Henne over a mile, withinne a greet village, Bothe man and womman, child, and hyne, is

and page;

I trowe his habitacioun be there;
To been avysed 19 greet wysdom it were, 690

Whan they han goon nat fully half a mile, Right as they wolde han troden over a stile, An oold man and a poure with hem mette; This oldė man ful mekély hem grette And seyed thus: "Now, lordės, God yow see!" The proudeste of thise riotourės three Answerde agayn, "What, carl with sory grace, Why artow al for-wrapped, save thy face? Why lyvestow so longe in so greet age?'

This olde man gan looke in his visage, And seyde thus: "For I ne kan nat fynde A man, though that I walked into Ynde, Neither in citee, ne in no village,

716

720

That wolde chaunge his youthẻ for myn age; And therfore moot I han myn agė stille,

As longé tyme as it is Goddes wille.

Ne Deeth, allas! ne wol nat han my lyf; Thus walke I, lyk a restėless kaityf,

725

And on the ground which is my moodrės3 gate,

I knokke with my staf, erly and late,
And seyė, 'Leeve mooder, leet me in!

730

735

740

Lo, how I vanysshe, flessh and blood and skyn;
Allas! whan shul my bones been at reste?
Móoder, with yow wolde I chaunge my cheste
That in my chambré longé tyme hath be,
Ye, for an heyrė-clowt 10 to wrappé me!'
But yet to me she wol nat do that grace,
For which ful pale and welkėd" is my face.
"But, sires, to yow it is no curteisye
To speken to an old man vileynye,
But he trespasse in word, or elles in dede.
In Hooly Writ ye may your self wel rede,
Agayns an oold man, hoor upon his heed,
Ye sholde arise; wherfore I yeve yow reed,"
Ne dooth unto an oold man noon harm now, 745
Namoore than ye wolde men did to yow
In age, if that ye so longe abyde.
And God be with yow, where ye go or ryde;
I moote go thider as I have to go.'

12

Nay, olde cherl, by God, thou shalt nat so!" Seyde this oother hasardour13 anon;

751

"Thou partest nat so lightly, by Seint John!
Thou spak right now of thilkė traytour, Deeth,
That in this contree alle oure freendės sleeth;
Have heer my trouthe, as thou art his espye, 755
Telle where he is, or thou shalt it abye,1
By God and by the hooly sacrement!
For soothly, thou art oon of his assent
To sleen us yongė folk, thou false theef!"

66

759

Now, sires," quod he, "if that ye so be leef To fynde Deeth, turne up this croked wey, For in that grove I lafte hym, by my fey, Under a tree, and there he wole abyde; Noght for youre boost he wole him no thyng hyde.

Se ye that ook? Right there ye shal hym fynde.

765

God save yow that boghte agayn mankynde, And yow amende!" thus seyde this oldė man; And everich of thise riotourės ran

This tresor hath Fortúne unto us yeven
In myrthe and jolitee oure lyf to lyven,
And lightly as it comth so wol we spende.
Ey, Goddes precious dignitee! who wende1
To-day, that we sholde hav so faire a grace?
But myghte this gold be caried fro this place
Hoom to myn hous, or ellés unto youres,
(For wel ye woot that al this gold is oures),
Thanne were we in heigh felicitee.
But trewėly, by day it may nat bee;
Men wolde seyn that we were thevės stronge,
And for oure owenė tresor doon us honge.
This tresor moste y-caried be by nyghte
As wisely and as slyly as it myghte.
Wherfore, I rede that cut among us all
Be drawe, and let se wher the cut wol falle;
And he that hath the cut with hertė blithe
Shal renne to the towne, and that ful swythe, 18
And brynge us breed and wyn ful privély,
And two of us shul kepen subtilly

Dear Mother. 12 Advice.

14 Pay for. 16 Weemed, know. 19 Fist.

He woot how that the gold is with us tweye; What shal we doon, what shal we to hym seye?" "Shal it be conseil?" seyde the firtse shrewe,1 "And I shal tellen thee in wordės fewe What we shal doon, and bryngen it wel aboute." "I graunte," quod that oother, "out of doute, That by my trouthe I shal thee nat biwreye.' Now," quod the firste, "thou woost wel we be tweye,

825

831

And two of us shul strenger be than oon.
Looke whan that he is set, and right anoon
Arys, as though thou woldest with hym pleye,
And I shal ryve hym thurgh the sydes tweye,
Whil that thou strogelst with hym as in game,
And with thy daggere looke thou do the same;
And thanne shal al this gold departed be,
My deere freend, bitwixen me and thee.
Thanne may we bothe oure lustės all fulfille,
And pleye at dees2 right at oure owene wille."
And thus acorded been thise shrewės tweye, 835
To sleen the thridde, as ye han herd me seye.
This yongeste, which that wente unto the
toun,

Ful oft in herte he rolleth up and doun

The beautee of thise floryns newe and brighte; "O Lord,"quod he, "if so were that I myghte 840 Have al this tresor to myself allone,

Ther is no man that lyveth under the trone3
Of God, that sholdė lyve so murye as I!"
And atté laste the feend, oure enemy,

Putte in his thought that he sholde poyson beye,

845

865

Ye, sterve he shal, and that in lasse while
Than thou wolt goon a-paas nat but a mile;
This poysoun is so strong and violent."

This cursed man hath in his hond y-hent
This poysoun in a box, and sith he ran
Into the nextė strete unto a man,
And borwed hym large botéllės thre,
And in the two his poyson poured he;

870

The thridde he kepte clene for his owene drynke; For al the nyght he shoope" hym for to swynke

875

In cariynge of the gold out of that place.
And whan this riotour with sory grace
Hadde filled with wyn his gretė botels thre,
To his felawes agayn repaireth he.

What nedeth it to sermone of it moore? For right as they hadde cast his deeth bifoore, Right so they han hym slayn, and that anon,881 And whan that this was doon thus spak that oon;

"Now lat us sitte and drynke, and make us merie,

885

And afterward we wol his body berie;"
And with that word it happed hym, par cas,
To take the botel ther the poysoun was,
And drank and yaf his felawe drynke also,
For which anon they storven bothe two.
But certės, I suppose that Avycen12
Wroot never in no Canón,13 ne in no fen
Mo wonder signės of empoisonyng
Than hadde thise wrecches two, er hir endyng.
Thus ended been thise homycidės two,
And eek the false empoysonere also.

O cursed synne of alle cursednesse!
O traytorous homycide! O wikkednesse!
O glotonye, luxúrie, and hasardrye!1
Thou blasphemour of Crist with vileynye,
And othės grete, of usage and of pride!
Allas! mankyndé, how may it bitide

890

895

900

That to thy Creatour which that thee wroghte, And with his precious hertė-blood thee boghte, Thou art so fals and so unkynde, allas!

Now, goode men, God foryeve yow youre trespas,

And ware yow fro the synne of avarice.
Myn hooly pardoun may you alle warice.15

905

THE COMPLEYNT OF CHAUCER TO HIS
PURSE
c. 1399

To you, my purse, and to noon other wyght
Compleyne I, for ye be my lady dere!

I am so sory now that ye been light;
For, certès, but ye make me hevy chere,
Me were as leef be leyd upon my bere,
Forwiche unto your mercy thus I crye,-
Beth hevy ageyn, or alles mot I dye!

11 Planned.

5

12. e., Avicenna (980-1037), a celebrated Arabian physician.

13 A section in The Canon, Avicenna's work on medicine, is called (from an Arabic word) a fen. No more wonderful signs of poisoning are described in the Canon of Medicine, or in any fen, or part of that book;-not even the fen which specifically treats of poisons. 15 Heal.

14 Gambling.