Section 8:
THE SOMPNOUR'S TALE.
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, |
| When folk in church had giv'n him what them lest;* *pleased |
| He went his way, no longer would he rest, |
| With scrip and tipped staff, *y-tucked high:* *with his robe tucked |
| In every house he gan to pore* and pry, up high* *peer |
| And begged meal and cheese, or elles corn. |
| His fellow had a staff tipped with horn, |
| A pair of tables* all of ivory, *writing tablets |
| And a pointel* y-polish'd fetisly,** *pencil **daintily |
| And wrote alway the names, as he stood; |
| Of all the folk that gave them any good, |
| Askaunce* that he woulde for them pray. *see note <5> |
| "Give us a bushel wheat, or malt, or rey,* *rye |
| A Godde's kichel,* or a trip** of cheese, *little cake<6> **scrap |
| Or elles what you list, we may not chese;* *choose |
| A Godde's halfpenny, <6> or a mass penny; |
| Or give us of your brawn, if ye have any; |
| A dagon* of your blanket, leve dame, *remnant |
| Our sister dear,—lo, here I write your name,— |
| Bacon or beef, or such thing as ye find." |
| A sturdy harlot* went them aye behind, *manservant <7> |
| That was their hoste's man, and bare a sack, |
| And what men gave them, laid it on his back |
| And when that he was out at door, anon |
| He *planed away* the names every one, *rubbed out* |
| That he before had written in his tables: |
| He served them with nifles* and with fables.—*silly tales |
| "Nay, there thou liest, thou Sompnour," quoth the Frere. |
| "Peace," quoth our Host, "for Christe's mother dear; |
| Tell forth thy tale, and spare it not at all." |
| "So thrive I," quoth this Sompnour, "so I shall."— |
| So long he went from house to house, till he |
| Came to a house, where he was wont to be |
| Refreshed more than in a hundred places |
| Sick lay the husband man, whose that the place is, |
| Bed-rid upon a couche low he lay: |
| *"Deus hic,"* quoth he; "O Thomas friend, good day," *God be here* |
| Said this friar, all courteously and soft. |
| "Thomas," quoth he, "God *yield it you,* full oft *reward you for* |
| Have I upon this bench fared full well, |
| Here have I eaten many a merry meal." |
| And from the bench he drove away the cat, |
| And laid adown his potent* and his hat, *staff <8> |
| And eke his scrip, and sat himself adown: |
| His fellow was y-walked into town |
| Forth with his knave,* into that hostelry *servant |
| Where as he shope* him that night to lie. *shaped, purposed |
| "O deare master," quoth this sicke man, |
| "How have ye fared since that March began? |
| I saw you not this fortenight and more." |
| "God wot," quoth he, "labour'd have I full sore; |
| And specially for thy salvation |
| Have I said many a precious orison, |
| And for mine other friendes, God them bless. |
| I have this day been at your church at mess,* *mass |
| And said sermon after my simple wit, |
| Not all after the text of Holy Writ; |
| For it is hard to you, as I suppose, |
| And therefore will I teach you aye the glose.* *gloss, comment |
| Glosing is a full glorious thing certain, |
| For letter slayeth, as we clerkes* sayn. *scholars |
| There have I taught them to be charitable, |
| And spend their good where it is reasonable. |
| And there I saw our dame; where is she?" |
| "Yonder I trow that in the yard she be," |
| Saide this man; "and she will come anon." |
| "Hey master, welcome be ye by Saint John," |
| Saide this wife; "how fare ye heartily?" |
| This friar riseth up full courteously, |
| And her embraceth *in his armes narrow,* *closely |
| And kiss'th her sweet, and chirketh as a sparrow |
| With his lippes: "Dame," quoth he, "right well, |
| As he that is your servant every deal.* *whit |
| Thanked be God, that gave you soul and life, |
| Yet saw I not this day so fair a wife |
| In all the churche, God so save me," |
| "Yea, God amend defaultes, Sir," quoth she; |
| "Algates* welcome be ye, by my fay." *always |
| "Grand mercy, Dame; that have I found alway. |
| But of your greate goodness, by your leave, |
| I woulde pray you that ye not you grieve, |
| I will with Thomas speak *a little throw:* *a little while* |
| These curates be so negligent and slow |
| To grope tenderly a conscience. |
| In shrift* and preaching is my diligence *confession |
| And study in Peter's wordes and in Paul's; |
| I walk and fishe Christian menne's souls, |
| To yield our Lord Jesus his proper rent; |
| To spread his word is alle mine intent." |
| "Now by your faith, O deare Sir," quoth she, |
| "Chide him right well, for sainte charity. |
| He is aye angry as is a pismire,* *ant |
| Though that he have all that he can desire, |
| Though I him wrie* at night, and make him warm, *cover |
| And ov'r him lay my leg and eke mine arm, |
| He groaneth as our boar that lies in sty: |
| Other disport of him right none have I, |
| I may not please him in no manner case." |
| "O Thomas, *je vous dis,* Thomas, Thomas, *I tell you* |
| This *maketh the fiend,* this must be amended. *is the devil's work* |
| Ire is a thing that high God hath defended,* *forbidden |
| And thereof will I speak a word or two." |
| "Now, master," quoth the wife, "ere that I go, |
| What will ye dine? I will go thereabout." |
| "Now, Dame," quoth he, "je vous dis sans doute, <9> |
| Had I not of a capon but the liver, |
| And of your white bread not but a shiver,* *thin slice |
| And after that a roasted pigge's head, |
| (But I would that for me no beast were dead,) |
| Then had I with you homely suffisance. |
| I am a man of little sustenance. |
| My spirit hath its fost'ring in the Bible. |
| My body is aye so ready and penible* *painstaking |
| To wake,* that my stomach is destroy'd. *watch |
| I pray you, Dame, that ye be not annoy'd, |
| Though I so friendly you my counsel shew; |
| By God, I would have told it but to few." |
| "Now, Sir," quoth she, "but one word ere I go; |
| My child is dead within these weeke's two, |
| Soon after that ye went out of this town." |
| "His death saw I by revelatioun," |
| Said this friar, "at home in our dortour.* *dormitory <10> |
| I dare well say, that less than half an hour |
| Mter his death, I saw him borne to bliss |
| In mine vision, so God me wiss.* *direct |
| So did our sexton, and our fermerere,* *infirmary-keeper |
| That have been true friars fifty year,— |
| They may now, God be thanked of his love, |
| Make their jubilee, and walk above.<12> |
| And up I rose, and all our convent eke, |
| With many a teare trilling on my cheek, |
| Withoute noise or clattering of bells, |
| Te Deum was our song, and nothing else, |
| Save that to Christ I bade an orison, |
| Thanking him of my revelation. |
| For, Sir and Dame, truste me right well, |
| Our orisons be more effectuel, |
| And more we see of Christe's secret things, |
| Than *borel folk,* although that they be kings. *laymen*<13> |
| We live in povert', and in abstinence, |
| And borel folk in riches and dispence |
| Of meat and drink, and in their foul delight. |
| We have this worlde's lust* all in despight** * pleasure **contempt |
| Lazar and Dives lived diversely, |
| And diverse guerdon* hadde they thereby. *reward |
| Whoso will pray, he must fast and be clean, |
| And fat his soul, and keep his body lean |
| We fare as saith th' apostle; cloth* and food *clothing |
| Suffice us, although they be not full good. |
| The cleanness and the fasting of us freres |
| Maketh that Christ accepteth our prayeres. |
| Lo, Moses forty days and forty night |
| Fasted, ere that the high God full of might |
| Spake with him in the mountain of Sinai: |
| With empty womb* of fasting many a day *stomach |
| Received he the lawe, that was writ |
| With Godde's finger; and Eli,<14> well ye wit,* *know |
| In Mount Horeb, ere he had any speech |
| With highe God, that is our live's leech,* *physician, healer |
| He fasted long, and was in contemplance. |
| Aaron, that had the temple in governance, |
| And eke the other priestes every one, |
| Into the temple when they shoulde gon |
| To praye for the people, and do service, |
| They woulde drinken in no manner wise |
| No drinke, which that might them drunken make, |
| But there in abstinence pray and wake, |
| Lest that they died: take heed what I say— |
| But* they be sober that for the people pray—*unless |
| Ware that, I say—no more: for it sufficeth. |
| Our Lord Jesus, as Holy Writ deviseth,* *narrates |
| Gave us example of fasting and prayeres: |
| Therefore we mendicants, we sely* freres, *simple, lowly |
| Be wedded to povert' and continence, |
| To charity, humbless, and abstinence, |
| To persecution for righteousness, |
| To weeping, misericorde,* and to cleanness. *compassion |
| And therefore may ye see that our prayeres |
| (I speak of us, we mendicants, we freres), |
| Be to the highe God more acceptable |
| Than youres, with your feastes at your table. |
| From Paradise first, if I shall not lie, |
| Was man out chased for his gluttony, |
| And chaste was man in Paradise certain. |
| But hark now, Thomas, what I shall thee sayn; |
| I have no text of it, as I suppose, |
| But I shall find it in *a manner glose;* *a kind of comment* |
| That specially our sweet Lord Jesus |
| Spake this of friars, when he saide thus, |
| 'Blessed be they that poor in spirit be' |
| And so forth all the gospel may ye see, |
| Whether it be liker our profession, |
| Or theirs that swimmen in possession; |
| Fy on their pomp, and on their gluttony, |
| And on their lewedness! I them defy. |
| Me thinketh they be like Jovinian,<15> |
| Fat as a whale, and walking as a swan; |
| All vinolent* as bottle in the spence;** *full of wine **store-room |
| Their prayer is of full great reverence; |
| When they for soules say the Psalm of David, |
| Lo, 'Buf' they say, Cor meum eructavit.<16> |
| Who follow Christe's gospel and his lore* *doctrine |
| But we, that humble be, and chaste, and pore,* *poor |
| Workers of Godde's word, not auditours?* *hearers |
| Therefore right as a hawk *upon a sours* *rising* |
| Up springs into the air, right so prayeres |
| Of charitable and chaste busy freres |
| *Make their sours* to Godde's eares two. *rise* |
| Thomas, Thomas, so may I ride or go, |
| And by that lord that called is Saint Ive, |
| *N'ere thou our brother, shouldest thou not thrive;* *see note <17>* |
| In our chapiter pray we day and night |
| To Christ, that he thee sende health and might, |
| Thy body for to *wielde hastily.* *soon be able to move freely* |
| "God wot," quoth he, "nothing thereof feel I; |
| So help me Christ, as I in fewe years |
| Have spended upon *divers manner freres* *friars of various sorts* |
| Full many a pound, yet fare I ne'er the bet;* *better |
| Certain my good have I almost beset:* *spent |
| Farewell my gold, for it is all ago."* *gone |
| The friar answer'd, "O Thomas, dost thou so? |
| What needest thou diverse friars to seech?* *seek |
| What needeth him that hath a perfect leech,* *healer |
| To seeken other leeches in the town? |
| Your inconstance is your confusioun. |
| Hold ye then me, or elles our convent, |
| To praye for you insufficient? |
| Thomas, that jape* it is not worth a mite; *jest |
| Your malady is *for we have too lite.* *because we have |
| Ah, give that convent half a quarter oats; too little* |
| And give that convent four and twenty groats; |
| And give that friar a penny, and let him go! |
| Nay, nay, Thomas, it may no thing be so. |
| What is a farthing worth parted on twelve? |
| Lo, each thing that is oned* in himselve *made one, united |
| Is more strong than when it is y-scatter'd. |
| Thomas, of me thou shalt not be y-flatter'd, |
| Thou wouldest have our labour all for nought. |
| The highe God, that all this world hath wrought, |
| Saith, that the workman worthy is his hire |
| Thomas, nought of your treasure I desire |
| As for myself, but that all our convent |
| To pray for you is aye so diligent: |
| And for to builde Christe's owen church. |
| Thomas, if ye will learne for to wirch,* *work |
| Of building up of churches may ye find |
| If it be good, in Thomas' life of Ind.<18> |
| Ye lie here full of anger and of ire, |
| With which the devil sets your heart on fire, |
| And chide here this holy innocent |
| Your wife, that is so meek and patient. |
| And therefore trow* me, Thomas, if thee lest,** *believe **please |
| Ne strive not with thy wife, as for the best. |
| And bear this word away now, by thy faith, |
| Touching such thing, lo, what the wise man saith: |
| 'Within thy house be thou no lion; |
| To thy subjects do none oppression; |
| Nor make thou thine acquaintance for to flee.' |
| And yet, Thomas, eftsoones* charge I thee, *again |
| Beware from ire that in thy bosom sleeps, |
| Ware from the serpent, that so slily creeps |
| Under the grass, and stingeth subtilly. |
| Beware, my son, and hearken patiently, |
| That twenty thousand men have lost their lives |
| For striving with their lemans* and their wives. *mistresses |
| Now since ye have so holy and meek a wife, |
| What needeth you, Thomas, to make strife? |
| There is, y-wis,* no serpent so cruel, *certainly |
| When men tread on his tail nor half so fell,* *fierce |
| As woman is, when she hath caught an ire; |
| Very* vengeance is then all her desire. *pure, only |
| Ire is a sin, one of the greate seven, |
| Abominable to the God of heaven, |
| And to himself it is destruction. |
| This every lewed* vicar and parson *ignorant |
| Can say, how ire engenders homicide; |
| Ire is in sooth th' executor* of pride. *executioner |
| I could of ire you say so muche sorrow, |
| My tale shoulde last until to-morrow. |
| And therefore pray I God both day and ight, |
| An irous* man God send him little might. *passionate |
| It is great harm, and certes great pity |
| To set an irous man in high degree. |
| "Whilom* there was an irous potestate,** *once **judge<19> |
| As saith Senec, that during his estate* *term of office |
| Upon a day out rode knightes two; |
| And, as fortune would that it were so, |
| The one of them came home, the other not. |
| Anon the knight before the judge is brought, |
| That saide thus; 'Thou hast thy fellow slain, |
| For which I doom thee to the death certain.' |
| And to another knight commanded he; |
| 'Go, lead him to the death, I charge thee.' |
| And happened, as they went by the way |
| Toward the place where as he should dey,* *die |
| The knight came, which men weened* had been dead *thought |
| Then thoughte they it was the beste rede* *counsel |
| To lead them both unto the judge again. |
| They saide, 'Lord, the knight hath not y-slain |
| His fellow; here he standeth whole alive.' |
| 'Ye shall be dead,' quoth he, 'so may I thrive, |
| That is to say, both one, and two, and three.' |
| And to the firste knight right thus spake he: |
| 'I damned thee, thou must algate* be dead: *at all events |
| And thou also must needes lose thine head, |
| For thou the cause art why thy fellow dieth.' |
| And to the thirde knight right thus he sayeth, |
| 'Thou hast not done that I commanded thee.' |
| And thus he did do slay them alle three. |
| Irous Cambyses was eke dronkelew,* *a drunkard |
| And aye delighted him to be a shrew.* *vicious, ill-tempered |
| And so befell, a lord of his meinie,* *suite |
| That loved virtuous morality, |
| Said on a day betwixt them two right thus: |
| 'A lord is lost, if he be vicious. |
| [An irous man is like a frantic beast, |
| In which there is of wisdom *none arrest*;] *no control* |
| And drunkenness is eke a foul record |
| Of any man, and namely* of a lord. *especially |
| There is full many an eye and many an ear |
| *Awaiting on* a lord, he knows not where. *watching |
| For Godde's love, drink more attemperly:* *temperately |
| Wine maketh man to lose wretchedly |
| His mind, and eke his limbes every one.' |
| 'The reverse shalt thou see,' quoth he, 'anon, |
| And prove it by thine own experience, |
| That wine doth to folk no such offence. |
| There is no wine bereaveth me my might |
| Of hand, nor foot, nor of mine eyen sight.' |
| And for despite he dranke muche more |
| A hundred part* than he had done before, *times |
| And right anon this cursed irous wretch |
| This knighte's sone let* before him fetch, *caused |
| Commanding him he should before him stand: |
| And suddenly he took his bow in hand, |
| And up the string he pulled to his ear, |
| And with an arrow slew the child right there. |
| 'Now whether have I a sicker* hand or non?'** *sure **not |
| Quoth he; 'Is all my might and mind agone? |
| Hath wine bereaved me mine eyen sight?' |
| Why should I tell the answer of the knight? |
| His son was slain, there is no more to say. |
| Beware therefore with lordes how ye play,* *use freedom |
| Sing placebo;<20> and I shall if I can, |
| *But if* it be unto a poore man: *unless |
| To a poor man men should his vices tell, |
| But not t' a lord, though he should go to hell. |
| Lo, irous Cyrus, thilke* Persian, *that |
| How he destroy'd the river of Gisen,<21> |
| For that a horse of his was drowned therein, |
| When that he wente Babylon to win: |
| He made that the river was so small, |
| That women mighte wade it *over all.* *everywhere |
| Lo, what said he, that so well teache can, |
| 'Be thou no fellow to an irous man, |
| Nor with no wood* man walke by the way, *furious |
| Lest thee repent;' I will no farther say. |
| "Now, Thomas, leve* brother, leave thine ire, *dear |
| Thou shalt me find as just as is as squire; |
| Hold not the devil's knife aye at thine heaat; |
| Thine anger doth thee all too sore smart;* *pain |
| But shew to me all thy confession." |
| "Nay," quoth the sicke man, "by Saint Simon |
| I have been shriven* this day of my curate; *confessed |
| I have him told all wholly mine estate. |
| Needeth no more to speak of it, saith he, |
| But if me list of mine humility." |
| "Give me then of thy good to make our cloister," |
| Quoth he, "for many a mussel and many an oyster, |
| When other men have been full well at ease, |
| Hath been our food, our cloister for to rese:* *raise, build |
| And yet, God wot, unneth* the foundement** *scarcely **foundation |
| Performed is, nor of our pavement |
| Is not a tile yet within our wones:* *habitation |
| By God, we owe forty pound for stones. |
| Now help, Thomas, for *him that harrow'd hell,* *Christ <22> |
| For elles must we oure bookes sell, |
| And if ye lack our predication, |
| Then goes this world all to destruction. |
| For whoso from this world would us bereave, |
| So God me save, Thomas, by your leave, |
| He would bereave out of this world the sun |
| For who can teach and worken as we conne?* *know how to do |
| And that is not of little time (quoth he), |
| But since Elijah was, and Elisee,* *Elisha |
| Have friars been, that find I of record, |
| In charity, y-thanked be our Lord. |
| Now, Thomas, help for sainte charity." |
| And down anon he set him on his knee, |
| The sick man waxed well-nigh wood* for ire, *mad |
| He woulde that the friar had been a-fire |
| With his false dissimulation. |
| "Such thing as is in my possession," |
| Quoth he, "that may I give you and none other: |
| Ye say me thus, how that I am your brother." |
| "Yea, certes," quoth this friar, "yea, truste well; |
| I took our Dame the letter of our seal"<23> |
| "Now well," quoth he, "and somewhat shall I give |
| Unto your holy convent while I live; |
| And in thine hand thou shalt it have anon, |
| On this condition, and other none, |
| That thou depart* it so, my deare brother, *divide |
| That every friar have as much as other: |
| This shalt thou swear on thy profession, |
| Withoute fraud or cavillation."* *quibbling |
| "I swear it," quoth the friar, "upon my faith." |
| And therewithal his hand in his he lay'th; |
| "Lo here my faith, in me shall be no lack." |
| "Then put thine hand adown right by my back," |
| Saide this man, "and grope well behind, |
| Beneath my buttock, there thou shalt find |
| A thing, that I have hid in privity." |
| "Ah," thought this friar, "that shall go with me." |
| And down his hand he launched to the clift,* *cleft |
| In hope for to finde there a gift. |
| And when this sicke man felte this frere |
| About his taile groping there and here, |
| Amid his hand he let the friar a fart; |
| There is no capel* drawing in a cart, *horse |
| That might have let a fart of such a soun'. |
| The friar up start, as doth a wood* lioun: *fierce |
| "Ah, false churl," quoth he, "for Godde's bones, |
| This hast thou in despite done for the nones:* *on purpose |
| Thou shalt abie* this fart, if that I may." *suffer for |
| His meinie,* which that heard of this affray, *servants |
| Came leaping in, and chased out the frere, |
| And forth he went with a full angry cheer* *countenance |
| And fetch'd his fellow, there as lay his store: |
| He looked as it were a wilde boar, |
| And grounde with his teeth, so was he wroth. |
| A sturdy pace down to the court he go'th, |
| Where as there wonn'd* a man of great honour, *dwelt |
| To whom that he was always confessour: |
| This worthy man was lord of that village. |
| This friar came, as he were in a rage, |
| Where as this lord sat eating at his board: |
| Unnethes* might the friar speak one word, *with difficulty |
| Till at the last he saide, "God you see."* *save |
| This lord gan look, and said, "Ben'dicite! |
| What? Friar John, what manner world is this? |
| I see well that there something is amiss; |
| Ye look as though the wood were full of thieves. |
| Sit down anon, and tell me what your grieve* is, *grievance, grief |
| And it shall be amended, if I may." |
| "I have," quoth he, "had a despite to-day, |
| God *yielde you,* adown in your village, *reward you |
| That in this world is none so poor a page, |
| That would not have abominatioun |
| Of that I have received in your town: |
| And yet ne grieveth me nothing so sore, |
| As that the olde churl, with lockes hoar, |
| Blasphemed hath our holy convent eke." |
| "Now, master," quoth this lord, "I you beseek"— |
| "No master, Sir," quoth he, "but servitour, |
| Though I have had in schoole that honour. <24> |
| God liketh not, that men us Rabbi call |
| Neither in market, nor in your large hall." |
| *"No force,"* quoth he; "but tell me all your grief." *no matter* |
| Sir," quoth this friar, "an odious mischief |
| This day betid* is to mine order and me, *befallen |
| And so par consequence to each degree |
| Of holy churche, God amend it soon." |
| "Sir," quoth the lord, "ye know what is to doon:* *do |
| *Distemp'r you not,* ye be my confessour. *be not impatient* |
| Ye be the salt of th' earth, and the savour; |
| For Godde's love your patience now hold; |
| Tell me your grief." And he anon him told |
| As ye have heard before, ye know well what. |
| The lady of the house aye stiller sat, |
| Till she had hearde what the friar said, |
| "Hey, Godde's mother;" quoth she, "blissful maid, |
| Is there ought elles? tell me faithfully." |
| "Madame," quoth he, "how thinketh you thereby?" |
| "How thinketh me?" quoth she; "so God me speed, |
| I say, a churl hath done a churlish deed, |
| What should I say? God let him never the;* *thrive |
| His sicke head is full of vanity; |
| I hold him in *a manner phrenesy."* *a sort of frenzy* |
| "Madame," quoth he, "by God, I shall not lie, |
| But I in other wise may be awreke,* *revenged |
| I shall defame him *ov'r all there* I speak; *wherever |
| This false blasphemour, that charged me |
| To parte that will not departed be, |
| To every man alike, with mischance." |
| The lord sat still, as he were in a trance, |
| And in his heart he rolled up and down, |
| "How had this churl imaginatioun |
| To shewe such a problem to the frere. |
| Never ere now heard I of such mattere; |
| I trow* the Devil put it in his mind. *believe |
| In all arsmetrik* shall there no man find, *arithmetic |
| Before this day, of such a question. |
| Who shoulde make a demonstration, |
| That every man should have alike his part |
| As of the sound and savour of a fart? |
| O nice* proude churl, I shrew** his face. *foolish **curse |
| Lo, Sires," quoth the lord, "with harde grace, |
| Who ever heard of such a thing ere now? |
| To every man alike? tell me how. |
| It is impossible, it may not be. |
| Hey nice* churl, God let him never the.** *foolish **thrive |
| The rumbling of a fart, and every soun', |
| Is but of air reverberatioun, |
| And ever wasteth lite* and lite* away; *little |
| There is no man can deemen,* by my fay, *judge, decide |
| If that it were departed* equally. *divided |
| What? lo, my churl, lo yet how shrewedly* *impiously, wickedly |
| Unto my confessour to-day he spake; |
| I hold him certain a demoniac. |
| Now eat your meat, and let the churl go play, |
| Let him go hang himself a devil way!" |
| Now stood the lorde's squier at the board, |
| That carv'd his meat, and hearde word by word |
| Of all this thing, which that I have you said. |
| "My lord," quoth he, "be ye not *evil paid,* *displeased* |
| I coulde telle, for a gowne-cloth,* *cloth for a gown* |
| To you, Sir Friar, so that ye be not wrot, |
| How that this fart should even* dealed be *equally |
| Among your convent, if it liked thee." |
| "Tell," quoth the lord, "and thou shalt have anon |
| A gowne-cloth, by God and by Saint John." |
| "My lord," quoth he, "when that the weather is fair, |
| Withoute wind, or perturbing of air, |
| Let* bring a cart-wheel here into this hall, cause* |
| But looke that it have its spokes all; |
| Twelve spokes hath a cart-wheel commonly; |
| And bring me then twelve friars, know ye why? |
| For thirteen is a convent as I guess;<25> |
| Your confessor here, for his worthiness, |
| Shall *perform up* the number of his convent. *complete* |
| Then shall they kneel adown by one assent, |
| And to each spoke's end, in this mannere, |
| Full sadly* lay his nose shall a frere; *carefully, steadily |
| Your noble confessor there, God him save, |
| Shall hold his nose upright under the nave. |
| Then shall this churl, with belly stiff and tought* *tight |
| As any tabour,* hither be y-brought; *drum |
| And set him on the wheel right of this cart |
| Upon the nave, and make him let a fart, |
| And ye shall see, on peril of my life, |
| By very proof that is demonstrative, |
| That equally the sound of it will wend,* *go |
| And eke the stink, unto the spokes' end, |
| Save that this worthy man, your confessour' |
| (Because he is a man of great honour), |
| Shall have the firste fruit, as reason is; |
| The noble usage of friars yet it is, |
| The worthy men of them shall first be served, |
| And certainly he hath it well deserved; |
| He hath to-day taught us so muche good |
| With preaching in the pulpit where he stood, |
| That I may vouchesafe, I say for me, |
| He had the firste smell of fartes three; |
| And so would all his brethren hardily; |
| He beareth him so fair and holily." |
| The lord, the lady, and each man, save the frere, |
| Saide, that Jankin spake in this mattere |
| As well as Euclid, or as Ptolemy. |
| Touching the churl, they said that subtilty |
| And high wit made him speaken as he spake; |
| He is no fool, nor no demoniac. |
| And Jankin hath y-won a newe gown; |
| My tale is done, we are almost at town. |
| Notes to the Sompnour's Tale |
| 1. Trentals: The money given to the priests for performing thirty |
| masses for the dead, either in succession or on the anniversaries |
| of their death; also the masses themselves, which were very |
| profitable to the clergy. |
| 2. Possessioners: The regular religious orders, who had lands |
| and fixed revenues; while the friars, by their vows, had to |
| depend on voluntary contributions, though their need suggested |
| many modes of evading the prescription. |
| 3. In Chaucer's day the most material notions about the tortures |
| of hell prevailed, and were made the most of by the clergy, who |
| preyed on the affection and fear of the survivors, through the |
| ingenious doctrine of purgatory. Old paintings and illuminations |
| represent the dead as torn by hooks, roasted in fires, boiled in |
| pots, and subjected to many other physical torments. |
| 4. Qui cum patre: "Who with the father"; the closing words of |
| the final benediction pronounced at Mass. |
| 5. Askaunce: The word now means sideways or asquint; here it |
| means "as if;" and its force is probably to suggest that the |
| second friar, with an ostentatious stealthiness, noted down the |
| names of the liberal, to make them believe that they would be |
| remembered in the holy beggars' orisons. |
| 6. A Godde's kichel/halfpenny: a little cake/halfpenny, given for |
| God's sake. |
| 7. Harlot: hired servant; from Anglo-Saxon, "hyran," to hire; |
| the word was commonly applied to males. |
| 8. Potent: staff; French, "potence," crutch, gibbet. |
| 9. Je vous dis sans doute: French; "I tell you without doubt." |
| 10. Dortour: dormitory; French, "dortoir." |
| 12. The Rules of St Benedict granted peculiar honours and |
| immunities to monks who had lived fifty years—the jubilee |
| period—in the order. The usual reading of the words ending |
| the two lines is "loan" or "lone," and "alone;" but to walk alone |
| does not seem to have been any peculiar privilege of a friar, |
| while the idea of precedence, or higher place at table and in |
| processions, is suggested by the reading in the text. |
| 13. Borel folk: laymen, people who are not learned; "borel" |
| was a kind of coarse cloth. |
| 14. Eli: Elijah (1 Kings, xix.) |
| 15. An emperor Jovinian was famous in the mediaeval legends |
| for his pride and luxury |
| 16. Cor meum eructavit: literally, "My heart has belched forth;" |
| in our translation, (i.e. the Authorised "King James" Version - |
| Transcriber) "My heart is inditing a goodly matter." (Ps. xlv. |
| 1.). "Buf" is meant to represent the sound of an eructation, and |
| to show the "great reverence" with which "those in possession," |
| the monks of the rich monasteries, performed divine service, |
| 17. N'ere thou our brother, shouldest thou not thrive: if thou |
| wert not of our brotherhood, thou shouldst have no hope of |
| recovery. |
| 18. Thomas' life of Ind: The life of Thomas of India - i.e. St. |
| Thomas the Apostle, who was said to have travelled to India. |
| 19. Potestate: chief magistrate or judge; Latin, "potestas;" |
| Italian, "podesta." Seneca relates the story of Cornelius Piso; |
| "De Ira," i. 16. |
| 20. Placebo: An anthem of the Roman Church, from Psalm |
| cxvi. 9, which in the Vulgate reads, "Placebo Domino in regione |
| vivorum"—"I will please the Lord in the land of the living" |
| 21. The Gysen: Seneca calls it the Gyndes; Sir John Mandeville |
| tells the story of the Euphrates. "Gihon," was the name of one |
| of the four rivers of Eden (Gen. ii, 13). |
| 22. Him that harrowed Hell: Christ. See note 14 to the Reeve's |
| Tale. |
| 23. Mr. Wright says that "it was a common practice to grant |
| under the conventual seal to benefactors and others a brotherly |
| participation in the spiritual good works of the convent, and in |
| their expected reward after death." |
| 24. The friar had received a master's degree. |
| 25. The regular number of monks or friars in a convent was |
| fixed at twelve, with a superior, in imitation of the apostles and |
| their Master; and large religious houses were held to consist of |
| so many convents. |
