The Pardoner’s Tale=
from The Canterbury Tales=
Geoffrey Chaucer,
translated by Nevill
Coghill
&nbs=
p;
The Prologue
“But let me briefly make my purpose plain;
I preach=
for
nothing but for greed of gain
And use =
the
same old text, as bold as brass,
Radix
malorum est cupiditas.
5 And thus I preach against=
the
very vice
I make my
living out of—avarice.
And yet
however guilty of that sin
Myself, =
with
others I have power to win
Them from
it, I can bring them to repent;
10 But that is not my princ=
ipal
intent.
Covetous=
ness
is both the root and stuff
Of all I
preach. That ought to be enough.
“W=
ell,
then I give examples thick and fast
From byg=
one
times, old stories from the past.
15 A yokel mind loves stori=
es
from of old,
Being the
kind it can repeat and hold.
What! Do=
you
think, as long as I can preach
And get
their silver for the things I teach,
That I w=
ill
live in poverty, from choice?
20 That’s not the cou=
nsel
of my inner voice!
No! Let =
me
preach and beg from kirk to kirk
And neve=
r do
an honest job of work,
No, nor =
make
baskets, like St. Paul, to gain
A
livelihood. I do not preach in vain.
25 There’s no apostle=
I
would counterfeit;
I mean to
have money, wool and cheese and wheat
Though it
were given me by the poorest lad
Or poore=
st
village widow, though she had
A string=
of
starving children, all agape.
30 No, let me drink the liq=
uor
of the grape
And keep=
a
jolly wench in every town!
“B=
ut
listen, gentlemen; to bring things down
To a
conclusion, would you like a tale?
Now as
I’ve drunk a draft of corn-ripe ale,
35 By God it stands to reas=
on I
can strike
On some =
good
story that you all will like.
For thou=
gh I
am a wholly vicious man
Don̵=
7;t
think I can’t tell moral tales. I can!
HereR=
17;s
one I often preach when out for winning;
40 Now please be quiet. Her=
e is
the beginning.”
The Tale
=
;
In Flanders once there was a company
Of
youngsters haunting vice and ribaldry,
Riot and
gambling, stews and public-houses
Where ea=
ch
with harp, guitar, or lute carouses,
45 Dancing and dicing day a=
nd
night, and bold
To eat a=
nd
drink far more than they can hold,
Doing
thereby the devil sacrifice
Within t=
hat
devil’s temple of cursed vice,
Abominab=
le
in superfluity,
50 With oaths so damnable in
blasphemy
That
it’s a grisly thing to hear them swear.
Our dear
Lord’s body they will rend and tear.. . .
It’=
;s
of three rioters I have to tell
Who, long
before the morning service bell,
55 Were sitting in a tavern=
for
a drink.
And as t=
hey
sat, they heard the hand-bell clink
Before a
coffin going to the grave;
One of t=
hem
called the little tavern-knave
And said
“Go and find out at once—look spry!—
60 Whose corpse is in that
coffin passing by;
And see =
you
get the name correctly too.”
“Sir,” said the boy, “no need, I promise you;
Two hours
before you came here I was told.
He was a
friend of yours in days of old,
65 And suddenly, last night, the =
man
was slain,
Upon his
bench, face up, dead drunk again.
There ca=
me a
privy thief, they call him Death,
Who kill=
s us
all round here, and in a breath
He spear=
ed
him through the heart, he never stirred.
70 And then Death went his =
way
without a word.
He’=
;s
killed a thousand in the present plague,
And, sir=
, it
doesn’t do to be too vague
If you
should meet him; you had best be wary.
Be on yo=
ur
guard with such an adversary,
75 Be primed to meet him
everywhere you go,
ThatR=
17;s
what my mother said. It’s all I know.”
The publ=
ican
joined in with, “By St. Mary,
What the
child says is right; you’d best be wary,
This very
year he killed, in a large village
80 A mile away, man, woman,
serf at tillage,
Page in =
the
household, children—all there were.
Yes, I
imagine that he lives round there.
It’=
;s
well to be prepared in these alarms,
He might=
do
you dishonor.” “Huh, God’s arms!”
85 The rioter said, “=
Is
he so fierce to meet?
I’=
ll
search for him, by Jesus, street by street.
God̵=
7;s
blessed bones! I’ll register a vow!
Here, ch=
aps!
The three of us together now,
Hold up =
your
hands, like me, and we’ll be brothers
90 In this affair, and each
defend the others,
And we w=
ill
kill this traitor Death, I say!
Away with
him as he has made away
With all=
our
friends. God’s dignity! Tonight!”
They made
their bargain, swore with appetite,
95 These three, to live and=
die
for one another
As
brother-born might swear to his born brother.
And up t=
hey
started in their drunken rage
And made
towards this village which the page
And publ=
ican
had spoken of before.
100 Many and grisly were the oaths they
swore,
Tearing
Christ’s blessed body to a shred;
“I=
f we
can only catch him, Death is dead!”
When they
had gone not fully half a mile,
Just as =
they
were about to cross a stile,
105 They came upon a very poor old man <=
br>
Who humb=
ly
greeted them and thus began,
“G=
od
look to you, my lords, and give you quiet!”
To which=
the
proudest of these men of riot
Gave back
the answer, “What, old fool? Give place!
110 Why are you all wrapped up except your face?&nb=
sp;
Why live=
so
long? Isn’t it time to die?”
The old,=
old
fellow looked him in the eye
And said,
“Because I never yet have found,
Though I
have walked to
115 Village and city on my pilgrimage,
One who
would change his youth to have my age.
And so my
age is mine and must be still
Upon me,=
for
such time as God may will.
“N=
ot
even Death, alas, will take my life;
120 So, like a wretched prisoner at strife
Within
himself, I walk alone and wait
About the
earth, which is my mother’s gate,
Knock-knocking with my staff from night to noon
And cryi=
ng,
‘Mother, open to me soon!
125 Look at me, mother, won’t you let me
in?
See how I
wither, flesh and blood and skin!
Alas! Wh=
en
will these bones be laid to rest?
Mother, I
would exchange—for that were best—
The ward=
robe
in my chamber, standing there
130 So long, for yours! Aye, for a shirt of
hair
To wrap =
me
in!’ She has refused her grace,
Whence c=
omes
the pallor of my withered face.
“B=
ut
it dishonored you when you began
To speak=
so
roughly, sir, to an old man,
135 Unless he had injured you in word or deed. =
;
It says =
in
holy writ, as you may read,
‘T=
hou
shalt rise up before the hoary head
And honor
it.’ And therefore be it said,
‘D=
o no
more harm to an old man than you,
140 Being now young, would have another do
When you=
are
old’—if you should live till then.
And so m=
ay
God be with you, gentlemen,
For I mu=
st
go whither I have to go.”
“By
God,” the gambler said, “you shan’t do so,
145 You don’t get off so easy, by
A certain
traitor Death who singles out
And kills
the fine young fellows hereabout.
And
you’re his spy, by God! You wait a bit.
150 Say where he is or you shall pay for it, <=
br>
By God a=
nd
by the Holy Sacrament!
I say
you’ve joined together by consent
To kill =
us
younger folk, you thieving swine!”
“W=
ell,
sirs,” he said, “if it be your design
155 To find out Death, turn up this crooked way&nbs=
p;
Towards =
that
grove, I left him there today
Under a
tree, and there you’ll find him waiting.
He
isn’t one to hide for all your prating.
You see =
that
oak? He won’t be far to find.
160 And God protect you that redeemed mankind, =
;
Aye, and
amend you!” Thus that ancient man.
At once =
the
three young rioters began
To run, =
and
reached the tree, and there they found
A pile of
golden florins on the ground,
165 New-coined, eight bushels of them as they
thought.
No longer
was it Death those fellows sought,
For they
were all so thrilled to see the sight,
The flor=
ins
were so beautiful and bright,
That down
they sat beside the precious pile.
170 The wickedest spoke first after a while. <=
br>
“Brothers,” he said, “you listen to what I say.
I’m
pretty sharp although I joke away.
It’=
;s
clear that Fortune has bestowed this treasure
To let us
live in jollity and pleasure.
175 Light come, light go! We’ll spend it as we
ought.
God̵=
7;s
precious dignity! Who would have thought
This mor=
ning
was to be our lucky day?
“If
one could only get the gold away,
Back to =
my
house, or else to yours, perhaps—
180 For as you know, the gold is ours,
chaps—
We’=
;d
all be at the top of fortune, hey?
But
certainly it can’t be done by day.
People w=
ould
call us robbers—a strong gang,
So our o=
wn
property would make us hang.
185 No, we must bring this treasure back by night&n=
bsp;
Some pru=
dent
way, and keep it out of sight.
And so a=
s a
solution I propose
We draw =
for
lots and see the way it goes;
The one =
who
draws the longest, lucky man,
190 Shall run to town as quickly as he can
To fetch=
us
bread and wine—but keep things dark—
While two
remain in hiding here to mark
Our heap=
of
treasure. If there’s no delay,
When nig=
ht
comes down we’ll carry it away,
195 All three of us, wherever we have
planned.”
He gathe=
red
lots and hid them in his hand
Bidding =
them
draw for where the luck should fall.
It fell =
upon
the youngest of them all,
And off =
he
ran at once towards the town.
200 As soon as he had gone the first sat down =
And thus
began a parley with the other:
“Y=
ou
know that you can trust me as a brother;
Now let =
me
tell you where your profit lies;
You know=
our
friend has gone to get supplies
205 And here’s a lot of gold that is to be&nb=
sp;
Divided
equally among us three.
Nevertheless, if I could shape things thus
So that =
we
shared it out—the two of us—
Wouldn’t you take it as a friendly act?”
210 “But how?” the other said. “He
knows the fact
That all=
the
gold was left with me and you;
What can=
we
tell him? What are we to do?”
“I=
s it
a bargain,” said the first, “or no?
For I can
tell you in a word or so
215 What’s to be done to bring the thing
about.”
“T=
rust
me,” the other said, “you needn’t doubt
My word.=
I
won’t betray you, I’ll be true.”
“Well,” said his friend, “you see that we are two, <=
br>
And two =
are
twice as powerful as one.
220 Now look; when he comes back, get up in fun&nbs=
p;
To have a
wrestle; then, as you attack,
I’=
ll
up and put my dagger through his back
While you
and he are struggling, as in game;
Th=
en
draw your dagger too and do the same.
225 Then all this money will be ours to spend, =
;
Divided
equally of course, dear friend.
Then we =
can
gratify our lusts and fill
The day =
with
dicing at our own sweet will.”
Thus the=
se
two miscreants agreed to slay
230 The third and youngest, as you heard me say.&nb=
sp;
The
youngest, as he ran towards the town,
Kept tur=
ning
over, rolling up and down
Within h=
is
heart the beauty of those bright
New flor=
ins,
saying, “Lord, to think I might
235 Have all that treasure to myself alone!
Of God so
happy as I then should be?”
And so t=
he
Fiend, our common enemy,
Was given
power to put it in his thought
240 That there was always poison to be bought, =
;
And that
with poison he could kill his friends.
To men in
such a state the Devil sends
Thoughts=
of
this kind, and has a full permission
To lure =
them
on to sorrow and perdition;
245 For this young man was utterly content
To kill =
them
both and never to repent.
And on he
ran, he had no thought to tarry,
Came to =
the
town, found an apothecary
And said,
“Sell me some poison if you will,
250 I have a lot of rats I want to kill
And
there’s a polecat too about my yard
That tak=
es
my chickens and it hits me hard;
But
I’ll get even, as is only right,
With ver=
min
that destroy a man by night.”
255 The chemist answered, “I’ve a
preparation
Which you
shall have, and by my soul’s salvation
If any
living creature eat or drink
A mouthf=
ul,
ere he has the time to think,
Though he
took less than makes a grain of wheat,
260 You’ll see him fall down dying at your
feet;
Yes, die=
he
must, and in so short a while
You̵=
7;d
hardly have the time to walk a mile,
The pois=
on
is so strong, you understand.”
This cur=
sed
fellow grabbed into his hand
265 The box of poison and away he ran
Into a
neighboring street, and found a man
Who lent=
him
three large bottles. He withdrew
And deft=
ly
poured the poison into two.
He kept =
the
third one clean, as well he might,
270 For his own drink, meaning to work all night&nb=
sp;
Stacking=
the
gold and carrying it away.
And when
this rioter, this devil’s clay,
Had fill=
ed
his bottles up with wine, all three,
Back to
rejoin his comrades sauntered he.
275 Why make a sermon of it? Why waste breath? =
;
Exactly =
in
the way they’d planned his death
They fel=
l on
him and slew him, two to one.
Then said
the first of them when this was done,
“N=
ow
for a drink. Sit down and let’s be merry,
280 For later on there’ll be the corpse to
bury.”
And, as =
it
happened, reaching for a sup,
He took a
bottle full of poison up
And dran=
k;
and his companion, nothing loth,
Drank fr=
om
it also, and they perished both.
285 There is, in Avicenna’s long
relation
Concerni=
ng
poison and its operation,
Trust me=
, no
ghastlier section to transcend
What the=
se
two wretches suffered at their end.
Thus the=
se
two murderers received their due,
290 So did the treacherous young poisoner too. . .
.
“O=
ne
thing I should have mentioned in my tale,
Dear peo=
ple.
I’ve some relics in my bale
And pard=
ons
too, as full and fine, I hope,
As any in
England, given me by the Pope.
295 If there be one among you that is willing =
To have =
my
absolution for a shilling
Devoutly
given, come! and do not harden
Your hea=
rts
but kneel in humbleness for pardon;
Or else,
receive my pardon as we go.
300 You can renew it every town or so
Always
provided that you still renew
Each tim=
e,
and in good money, what is due.
It is an
honor to you to have found
A pardon=
er
with his credentials sound
305 Who can absolve you as you ply the spur
For
instance—we are all at Fortune’s beck—
Your hor=
se
may throw you down and break your neck.
What a
security it is to all
310 To have me here among you and at call
With par=
don
for the lowly and the great
When soul
leaves body for the future state!
And I ad=
vise
our Host here to begin,
The most
enveloped of you all in sin.
315 Come forward, Host, you shall be the first to
pay,
And kiss=
my
holy relics right away.
Only a
groat. Come on, unbuckle your purse!”
“N=
o,
no,” said he, “not I, and may the curse
Of Christ
descend upon me if I do! . . .”
320 The Pardoner said nothing, not a word;
He was so
angry that he couldn’t speak.
“Well,” said our Host, “if you’re for showing
pique,
I’=
ll
joke no more, not with an angry man.”
The wort=
hy
Knight immediately began,
325 Seeing the fun was getting rather rough, <=
br>
And said,
“No more, we’ve all had quite enough.
Now, Mas=
ter
Pardoner, perk up, look cheerly!
And you,=
Sir
Host, whom I esteem so dearly,
I beg of=
you
to kiss the Pardoner.
330 “Come, Pardoner, draw nearer, my dear
sir.
Let̵=
7;s
laugh again and keep the ball in play.”
They kis=
sed,
and we continued on our way.