THE PARDONERS TALE* BY GEOFFREY CHAUCER Here biginneth the Pardoners Tale. IN Flaundres whylom was a companye As ryot, hasard, stewes, and tavernes, They daunce and pleye at dees bothe day and night, THISE ryotoures three, of whiche I telle, 6 'Sir,' quod this boy, 'it nedeth never-a-del. It was me told, er ye cam heer, two houres; He was, pardee, an old felawe of youres; * GEOFFREY CHAUCER (?1340-1400), writer of this story, was the chief story-teller of the fourteenth century in England. His Canterbury Tales, from which this narrative is taken, were probably composed in the years after 1380. The plot of The Pardoner's Tale came ultimately from the Orient. See also pp. 3-12. 5 ΙΟ 15 And sodeynly he was y-slayn to-night, 5 And with his spere he smoot his herte a-two, Thus taughte me my dame, I sey na-more.' 'By seinte Marie,' seyde this taverner, 'The child seith sooth, for he hath slayn this yeer, 15 Henne over a myle, with-in a greet village, Both man and womman, child and hyne, and page. I trowe his habitacioun be there; To been avysed greet wisdom it were, Herkneth, felawes, we three been al ones; 30 Togidres han thise three her trouthes plight, As though he were his owene y-boren brother. Of which the taverner had spoke biforn, Whan they han goon nat fully half a myle, This olde man gan loke in his visage, That wolde chaunge his youthe for myn age; Ne deeth, allas! ne wol nat han my lyf; 5 ΙΟ 15 20 And on the ground, which is my modres gate, 25 Lo, how I vanish, flesh, and blood, and skin! Ye! for an heyre clout to wrappe me!" 30 But yet to me she wol nat do that grace, ΙΟ But he trespasse in worde, or elles in dede. 'Agayns an old man, hoor upon his heed, And god be with yow, wher ye go or ryde. 'Nay, olde cherl, by god, thou shalt nat so,' Seyde this other hasardour anon; Thou partest nat so lightly, by seint John! Thou spak right now of thilke traitour Deeth, That in this contree alle our frendes sleeth. 15 Have heer my trouthe, as thou art his aspye, Tel wher he is, or thou shalt it abye, By god, and by the holy sacrament! For soothly thou art oon of his assent, To sleen us yonge folk, thou false theef!' 'Now, sirs,' quod he, 'if that yow be so leef To finde Deeth, turne up this croked wey, For in that grove I lafte him, by my fey, Under a tree, and ther he wol abyde; Nat for your boost he wol him no-thing hyde. 25 See ye that ook? right ther ye shul him finde. God save yow, that boghte agayn mankinde, And yow amende!'-thus seyde this olde man, And everich of thise ryotoures ran, 20 Til he cam to that tree, and ther they founde 30 Of florins fyne of golde y-coyned rounde Wel ny an eighte busshels, as hem thoughte. No lenger thanne after Deeth they soughte, But ech of hem so glad was of that sighte, For that the florins been so faire and brighte, |