The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems
To which this Sompnour shope* him for to wend,** *shaped **go
They saw a cart, that charged was with hay,
Which that a carter drove forth on his way.
Deep was the way, for which the carte stood:
The carter smote, and cried as he were wood,* *mad
“Heit Scot! heit Brok! what, spare ye for the stones?
The fiend (quoth he) you fetch body and bones,
As farforthly* as ever ye were foal’d, *sure
So muche woe as I have with you tholed.* *endured <11>
The devil have all, horses, and cart, and hay.”
The Sompnour said, “Here shall we have a prey,”
And near the fiend he drew, *as nought ne were,* *as if nothing
Full privily, and rowned* in his ear: were the matter*
“Hearken, my brother, hearken, by thy faith, *whispered
Hearest thou not, how that the carter saith?
Hent* it anon, for he hath giv’n it thee, *seize
Both hay and cart, and eke his capels* three.” *horses <12>
“Nay,” quoth the devil, “God wot, never a deal,* whit
It is not his intent, trust thou me well;
Ask him thyself, if thou not trowest* me, *believest
Or elles stint* a while and thou shalt see.” *stop
The carter thwack’d his horses on the croup,
And they began to drawen and to stoop.
“Heit now,” quoth he; “there, Jesus Christ you bless,
And all his handiwork, both more and less!
That was well twight,* mine owen liart,** boy, *pulled **grey<13>
I pray God save thy body, and Saint Loy!
Now is my cart out of the slough, pardie.”
“Lo, brother,” quoth the fiend, “what told I thee?
Here may ye see, mine owen deare brother,
The churl spake one thing, but he thought another.
Let us go forth abouten our voyage;
Here win I nothing upon this carriage.”
When that they came somewhat out of the town,
This Sompnour to his brother gan to rown;
“Brother,” quoth he, “here wons* an old rebeck,<14> *dwells
That had almost as lief to lose her neck.
As for to give a penny of her good.
I will have twelvepence, though that she be wood,* *mad
Or I will summon her to our office;
And yet, God wot, of her know I no vice.
But for thou canst not, as in this country,
Winne thy cost, take here example of me.”
This Sompnour clapped at the widow’s gate:
“Come out,” he said, “thou olde very trate;* *trot <15>
I trow thou hast some friar or priest with thee.”
“Who clappeth?” said this wife; “benedicite,
God save you, Sir, what is your sweete will?”
“I have,” quoth he, “of summons here a bill.
Up* pain of cursing, looke that thou be *upon
To-morrow before our archdeacon’s knee,
To answer to the court of certain things.”
“Now Lord,” quoth she, “Christ Jesus, king of kings,
So wis1y* helpe me, *as I not may.* *surely *as I cannot*
I have been sick, and that full many a day.
I may not go so far,” quoth she, “nor ride,
But I be dead, so pricketh it my side.
May I not ask a libel, Sir Sompnour,
And answer there by my procuratour
To such thing as men would appose* me?” *accuse
“Yes,” quoth this Sompnour, “pay anon, let see,
Twelvepence to me, and I will thee acquit.
I shall no profit have thereby but lit:* *little
My master hath the profit and not I.
Come off, and let me ride hastily;
Give me twelvepence, I may no longer tarry.”
“Twelvepence!” quoth she; “now lady Sainte Mary
So wisly* help me out of care and sin, *surely
This wide world though that I should it win,
No have I not twelvepence within my hold.
Ye know full well that I am poor and old;
*Kithe your almes* upon me poor wretch.” *show your charity*
“Nay then,” quoth he, “the foule fiend me fetch,
If I excuse thee, though thou should’st be spilt.”* *ruined
“Alas!” quoth she, “God wot, I have no guilt.”
“Pay me,” quoth he, “or, by the sweet Saint Anne,
As I will bear away thy newe pan
For debte, which thou owest me of old, —
When that thou madest thine husband cuckold, —
I paid at home for thy correction.”
“Thou liest,” quoth she, “by my salvation;
Never was I ere now, widow or wife,
Summon’d unto your court in all my life;
Nor never I was but of my body true.
Unto the devil rough and black of hue
Give I thy body and my pan also.”
And when the devil heard her curse so
Upon her knees, he said in this mannere;
“Now, Mabily, mine owen mother dear,
Is this your will in earnest that ye say?”
“The devil,” quoth she, “so fetch him ere he dey,* *die
And pan and all, but* he will him repent.” *unless
“Nay, olde stoat,* that is not mine intent,” *polecat
Quoth this Sompnour, “for to repente me
For any thing that I have had of thee;
I would I had thy smock and every cloth.”
“Now, brother,” quoth the devil, “be not wroth;
Thy body and this pan be mine by right.
Thou shalt with me to helle yet tonight,
Where thou shalt knowen of our privity* *secrets
More than a master of divinity.”
And with that word the foule fiend him hent.* *seized
Body and soul, he with the devil went,
Where as the Sompnours have their heritage;
And God, that maked after his image
Mankinde, save and guide us all and some,
And let this Sompnour a good man become.
Lordings, I could have told you (quoth this Frere),
Had I had leisure for this Sompnour here,
After the text of Christ, and Paul, and John,
And of our other doctors many a one,
Such paines, that your heartes might agrise,* *be horrified
Albeit so, that no tongue may devise,* — *relate
Though that I might a thousand winters tell, —
The pains of thilke* cursed house of hell *that
But for to keep us from that cursed place
Wake we, and pray we Jesus, of his grace,
So keep us from the tempter, Satanas.
Hearken this word, beware as in this case.
The lion sits *in his await* alway *on the watch* <16>
To slay the innocent, if that he may.
Disposen aye your heartes to withstond
The fiend that would you make thrall and bond;
He may not tempte you over your might,
For Christ will be your champion and your knight;
And pray, that this our Sompnour him repent
Of his misdeeds ere that the fiend him hent.* *seize
Notes to the Friar’s Tale
1. Small tithers: people who did not pay their full tithes. Mr
Wright remarks that “the sermons of the friars in the fourteenth
century were most frequently designed to impress the ahsolute
duty of paying full tithes and offerings”.
2. There might astert them no pecunial pain: they got off with
no mere pecuniary punishment. (Transcriber’s note: “Astert”
means “escape”. An alternative reading of this line is “there
might astert him no pecunial pain” i.e. no fine ever escaped him
(the archdeacon))
3. A dog for the bow: a dog attending a huntsman with bow
and arrow.
4. Ribibe: the name of a musical instrument; applied to an old
woman because of the shrillness of her voice.
5. De par dieux: by the gods.
6. See note 12 to the Knight’s Tale.
7. Wariangles: butcher-birds; which are very noisy and
ravenous, and tear in pieces the birds on which they prey; the
thorn on which they do this was said to become poisonous.
8. Medieval legends located hell in the North.
9. The Pythoness: the witch, or woman, possesed with a
prophesying spirit; from the Greek, “Pythia.” Chaucer of
course refers to the raising of Samuel’s spirit by the witch of
Endor.
10. Dante and Virgil were both poets who had in fancy visited
Hell.
11. Tholed: suffered, endured; “thole” is still used in Scotland in
the same sense.
12. Capels: horses. See note 14 to the Reeve’s Tale.
13. Liart: grey; elsewhere applied by Chaucer to the hairs of an
old man. So Burns, in the “Cotter’s Saturday Night,” speaks of
the gray temples of “the sire” — “His lyart haffets wearing thin
and bare.”
14. Rebeck: a kind of fiddle; used like “ribibe,” as a nickname
for a shrill old scold.
15. Trot; a contemptuous term for an old woman who has
trotted about much, or who moves with quick short steps.
16. In his await: on the watch; French, “aux aguets.”
THE SOMPNOUR’S TALE.
THE PROLOGUE.
The Sompnour in his stirrups high he stood,
Upon this Friar his hearte was so wood,* *furious
That like an aspen leaf he quoke* for ire: *quaked, trembled
“Lordings,” quoth he, “but one thing I desire;
I you beseech, that of your courtesy,
Since ye have heard this false Friar lie,
As suffer me I may my tale tell
This Friar boasteth that he knoweth hell,
And, God it wot, that is but little wonder,
Friars and fiends be but little asunder.
For, pardie, ye have often time heard tell,
How that a friar ravish’d was to hell
In spirit ones by a visioun,
And, as an angel led him up and down,
To shew him all the paines that there were,
In all the place saw he not a frere;
Of other folk he saw enough in woe.
Unto the angel spake the friar tho;* *then
‘Now, Sir,’ quoth he, ‘have friars such a grace,
That none of them shall come into this place?’
‘Yes’ quoth the angel; ‘many a millioun:’
And unto Satanas he led him down.
‘And now hath Satanas,’ said he, ‘a tail
Broader than of a carrack<1> is the sail.
Hold up thy tail, thou Satanas,’ quoth he,
‘Shew forth thine erse, and let the friar see
Where is the nest of friars in this place.’
And *less than half a furlong way of space* *immediately* <2>
Right so as bees swarmen out of a hive,
Out of the devil’s erse there gan to drive
A twenty thousand friars *on a rout.* *in a crowd*
And throughout hell they swarmed all about,
And came again, as fast as they may gon,
And in his erse they creeped every one:
He clapt his tail again, and lay full still.
This friar, when he looked had his fill
Upon the torments of that sorry place,
His spirit God restored of his grace
Into his body again, and he awoke;
But natheless for feare yet he quoke,
So was the devil’s erse aye in his mind;
That is his heritage, *of very kind* *by his very nature*
God save you alle, save this cursed Frere;
My prologue will I end in this mannere.
Notes to the Prologue to the Sompnour’s Tale
1. Carrack: A great ship of burden used by the Portuguese; the
name is from the Italian, “cargare,” to load
2. In less than half a furlong way of space: immediately;
literally, in less time than it takes to walk half a furlong (110
yards).
THE TALE.
Lordings, there is in Yorkshire, as I guess,
A marshy country called 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 mannere,
And specially, above every thing,
Excited he the people in his preaching
To trentals, <1> and to give, for Godde’s sake,
Wherewith men mighte holy houses make,
There as divine service is honour’d,
Not there as it is wasted and devour’d,
Nor where it needeth not for to be given,
As to possessioners, <2> that may liven,
Thanked be God, in wealth and abundance.
“Trentals,” said he, “deliver from penance
Their friendes’ soules, 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* *awls
To be y-clawed, or to burn or bake: <3>
Now speed you hastily, for Christe’s sake.”
And when this friar had said all his intent,
With qui cum patre<4> forth his way he went,