Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50) (43 page)

BOOK: Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)
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When that they came somewhat out of the town,
This Sompnour to his brother gan to rown;
“Brother,” quoth he, “here wons
1
an old rebeck,
1
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,
1
1
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;
1
1
trot
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
1
pain of cursing, looke that thou be
1
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
1
helpe me,
1
as I not may.
1
1
surely
1
as I cannot
1
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
1
me?”
1
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:
1
1
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
1
help me out of care and sin,
1
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;
1
Kithe your almes
1
upon me poor wretch.”
1
show your charity
1
“Nay then,” quoth he, “the foule fiend me fetch,
If I excuse thee, though thou should’st be spilt.”
1
1
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,
1
1
die
And pan and all, but
1
he will him repent.”
1
unless
“Nay, olde stoat,
1
that is not mine intent,”
1
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
1
1
secrets
More than a master of divinity.”

 

And with that word the foule fiend him hent.
1
1
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,
1
1
be horrified
Albeit so, that no tongue may devise,
1

1
relate
Though that I might a thousand winters tell, —
The pains of thilke
1
cursed house of hell
1
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
1
in his await
1
alway
1
on the watch
1
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.
1
1
seize

 

List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

 

List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

 

The Pardoner’s Tale

 

Geoffrey Chaucer (1340–1400)

 

Lordings (quoth he), in churche when I preach,
I paine me to have an hautein
1
speech,
1
take pains
2
loud
And ring it out, as round as doth a bell,
For I know all by rote that I tell.
My theme is always one, and ever was;
Radix malorum est cupiditas.
First I pronounce whence that I come,
And then my bulles shew I all and some;
Our liege lorde’s seal on my patent,
That shew I first,
1
my body to warrent,
1
1
for the protection
That no man be so hardy, priest nor clerk, of my person
1
Me to disturb of Christe’s holy werk.
And after that then tell I forth my tales.
Bulles of popes, and of cardinales,
Of patriarchs, and of bishops I shew,
And in Latin I speak a wordes few,
To savour with my predication,
And for to stir men to devotion
Then show I forth my longe crystal stones,
Y-crammed fall of cloutes
1
and of bones;
1
rags, fragments
Relics they be, as
1
weene they
1
each one.
1
as my listeners think
1
Then have I in latoun
1
a shoulder-bone
1
brass
Which that was of a holy Jewe’s sheep.
“Good men,” say I, “take of my wordes keep;
1
1
heed
If that this bone be wash’d in any well,
If cow, or calf, or sheep, or oxe swell,
That any worm hath eat, or worm y-stung,
Take water of that well, and wash his tongue,
And it is whole anon; and farthermore
Of pockes, and of scab, and every sore
Shall every sheep be whole, that of this well
Drinketh a draught; take keep
1
of that I tell.
1
heed

 

“If that the goodman, that the beastes oweth,
1
1
owneth
Will every week, ere that the cock him croweth,
Fasting, y-drinken of this well a draught,
As thilke holy Jew our elders taught,
His beastes and his store shall multiply.
And, Sirs, also it healeth jealousy;
For though a man be fall’n in jealous rage,
Let make with this water his pottage,
And never shall he more his wife mistrist,
1
1
mistrust
1
Though he the sooth of her defaulte wist;
1
1
though he truly
All had she taken priestes two or three.
 
knew her sin
1
Here is a mittain
1
eke, that ye may see;
1
glove, mitten
He that his hand will put in this mittain,
He shall have multiplying of his grain,
When he hath sowen, be it wheat or oats,
So that he offer pence, or elles groats.
And, men and women, one thing warn I you;
If any wight be in this churche now
That hath done sin horrible, so that he
Dare not for shame of it y-shriven
1
be;
1
confessed
Or any woman, be she young or old,
That hath y-made her husband cokewold,
1
1
cuckold
Such folk shall have no power nor no grace
To offer to my relics in this place.
And whoso findeth him out of such blame,
He will come up and offer in God’s name;
And I assoil
1
him by the authority
1
absolve
Which that by bull y-granted was to me.”

 

By this gaud
1
have I wonne year by year
1
jest, trick
A hundred marks, since I was pardonere.
I stande like a clerk in my pulpit,
And when the lewed
1
people down is set,
1
ignorant
I preache so as ye have heard before,
And telle them a hundred japes
1
more.
1
jests, deceits
Then pain I me to stretche forth my neck,
And east and west upon the people I beck,
As doth a dove, sitting on a bern;
1
1
barn
My handes and my tongue go so yern,
1
1
briskly
That it is joy to see my business.
Of avarice and of such cursedness
1
1
wickedness
Is all my preaching, for to make them free
To give their pence, and namely
1
unto me.
1
especially
For mine intent is not but for to win,
And nothing for correction of sin.
I recke never, when that they be buried,
Though that their soules go a blackburied.
For certes
1
many a predication
1
preaching is often inspired
Cometh oft-time of evil intention;
1
by evil motives
1
Some for pleasance of folk, and flattery,
To be advanced by hypocrisy;
And some for vainglory, and some for hate.
For, when I dare not otherwise debate,
Then will I sting him with my tongue smart
1
1
sharply
In preaching, so that he shall not astart
1
1
escape
To be defamed falsely, if that he
Hath trespass’d
1
to my brethren or to me.
1
offended
For, though I telle not his proper name,
Men shall well knowe that it is the same
By signes, and by other circumstances.
Thus
1
quite I
1
folk that do us displeasances:
1
I am revenged on
1
Thus spit I out my venom, under hue
Of holiness, to seem holy and true.
But, shortly mine intent I will devise,
I preach of nothing but of covetise.
Therefore my theme is yet, and ever was, —
Radix malorum est cupiditas.
Thus can I preach against the same vice
Which that I use, and that is avarice.
But though myself be guilty in that sin,
Yet can I maken other folk to twin
1
1
depart
From avarice, and sore them repent.
But that is not my principal intent;
I preache nothing but for covetise.
Of this mattere it ought enough suffice.
Then tell I them examples many a one,
Of olde stories longe time gone;
For lewed
1
people love tales old;
1
unlearned
Such thinges can they well report and hold.
What? trowe ye, that whiles I may preach
And winne gold and silver for
1
I teach,
1
because
That I will live in povert’ wilfully?
Nay, nay, I thought it never truely.
For I will preach and beg in sundry lands;
I will not do no labour with mine hands,
Nor make baskets for to live thereby,
Because I will not beggen idlely.
I will none of the apostles counterfeit;
1
1
imitate (in poverty)
I will have money, wool, and cheese, and wheat,
All
1
were it given of the poorest page,
1
even if
Or of the pooreste widow in a village:
All should her children sterve
1
for famine.
1
die
Nay, I will drink the liquor of the vine,
And have a jolly wench in every town.
But hearken, lordings, in conclusioun;
Your liking is, that I shall tell a tale
Now I have drunk a draught of corny ale,
By God, I hope I shall you tell a thing
That shall by reason be to your liking;
For though myself be a full vicious man,
A moral tale yet I you telle can,
Which I am wont to preache, for to win.
Now hold your peace, my tale I will begin.

 

In Flanders whilom was a company
Of younge folkes, that haunted folly,
As riot, hazard, stewes,
1
and taverns;
1
brothels
Where as with lutes, harpes, and giterns,
1
1
guitars
They dance and play at dice both day and night,
And eat also, and drink over their might;
Through which they do the devil sacrifice
Within the devil’s temple, in cursed wise,
By superfluity abominable.
Their oathes be so great and so damnable,
That it is grisly
1
for to hear them swear.
1
dreadful
Our blissful Lorde’s body they to-tear;
1
1
tore to pieces
Them thought the Jewes rent him not enough,
And each of them at other’s sinne lough.
1
1
laughed
And right anon in come tombesteres
Fetis
1
and small, and younge fruitesteres.
2
1
dainty
2
fruit-girls
Singers with harpes, baudes,
1
waferers,
2
1
revellers
2
cake-sellers
Which be the very devil’s officers,
To kindle and blow the fire of lechery,
That is annexed unto gluttony.
The Holy Writ take I to my witness,
That luxury is in wine and drunkenness.
Lo, how that drunken Lot unkindely
1
1
unnaturally
Lay by his daughters two unwittingly,
So drunk he was he knew not what he wrought.
Herodes, who so well the stories sought,
When he of wine replete was at his feast,
Right at his owen table gave his hest
1
1
command
To slay the Baptist John full guilteless.
Seneca saith a good word, doubteless:
He saith he can no difference find
Betwixt a man that is out of his mind,
And a man whiche that is drunkelew:
1
1
a drunkard
But that woodness,
1
y-fallen in a shrew,
1
1
madness
2
one evil-tempered
Persevereth longer than drunkenness.

 

O gluttony, full of all cursedness;
O cause first of our confusion,
Original of our damnation,
Till Christ had bought us with his blood again!
Looke, how deare, shortly for to sayn,
Abought
1
was first this cursed villainy:
1
atoned for
Corrupt was all this world for gluttony.
Adam our father, and his wife also,
From Paradise, to labour and to woe,
Were driven for that vice, it is no dread.
1
1
doubt
For while that Adam fasted, as I read,
He was in Paradise; and when that he
Ate of the fruit defended
1
of the tree,
1
forbidden
Anon he was cast out to woe and pain.
O gluttony! well ought us on thee plain.
Oh! wist a man how many maladies
Follow of excess and of gluttonies,
He woulde be the more measurable
1
1
moderate
Of his diete, sitting at his table.
Alas! the shorte throat, the tender mouth,
Maketh that east and west, and north and south,
In earth, in air, in water, men do swink
1
1
labour
To get a glutton dainty meat and drink.
Of this mattere, O Paul! well canst thou treat
Meat unto womb,
1
and womb eke unto meat,
1
belly
Shall God destroye both, as Paulus saith.
Alas! a foul thing is it, by my faith,
To say this word, and fouler is the deed,
When man so drinketh of the
1
white and red,
1
1
i.e. wine
1
That of his throat he maketh his privy
Through thilke cursed superfluity
The apostle saith,
 
weeping full piteously,
There walk many, of which you told have I, —
I say it now weeping with piteous voice, —
That they be enemies of Christe’s crois;
1
1
cross
Of which the end is death; womb
1
is their God.
1
belly
O womb, O belly, stinking is thy cod,
1
1
bag
Full fill’d of dung and of corruptioun;
At either end of thee foul is the soun.
How great labour and cost is thee to find!
1
1
supply
These cookes how they stamp, and strain, and grind,
And turne substance into accident,
To fulfill all thy likerous talent!
Out of the harde bones knocke they
The marrow, for they caste naught away
That may go through the gullet soft and swoot
1
1
sweet
Of spicery and leaves, of bark and root,
Shall be his sauce y-maked by delight,
To make him have a newer appetite.
But, certes, he that haunteth such delices
Is dead while that he liveth in those vices.

 

A lecherous thing is wine, and drunkenness
Is full of striving and of wretchedness.
O drunken man! disfgur’d is thy face,
Sour is thy breath, foul art thou to embrace:
And through thy drunken nose sowneth the soun’,
As though thous saidest aye, Samsoun! Samsoun!
And yet, God wot, Samson drank never wine.
Thou fallest as it were a sticked swine;
Thy tongue is lost, and all thine honest cure;
1
1
care
For drunkenness is very sepulture
1
1
tomb
Of manne’s wit and his discretion.
In whom that drink hath domination,
He can no counsel keep, it is no dread.
1
1
doubt
Now keep you from the white and from the red,
And namely
1
from the white wine of Lepe,
1
especially
That is to sell in Fish Street
 
and in Cheap.
This wine of Spaine creepeth subtilly —
In other wines growing faste by,
Of which there riseth such fumosity,
That when a man hath drunken draughtes three,
And weeneth that he be at home in Cheap,
He is in Spain, right at the town of Lepe,
Not at the Rochelle, nor at Bourdeaux town;
And thenne will he say, Samsoun! Samsoun!
But hearken, lordings, one word, I you pray,
That all the sovreign actes, dare I say,
Of victories in the Old Testament,
Through very God that is omnipotent,
Were done in abstinence and in prayere:
Look in the Bible, and there ye may it lear.
1
1
learn
Look, Attila, the greate conqueror,
Died in his sleep,
 
with shame and dishonour,
Bleeding aye at his nose in drunkenness:
A captain should aye live in soberness
And o’er all this, advise
1
you right well
1
consider, bethink
What was commanded unto Lemuel;
Not Samuel, but Lemuel, say I.
Reade the Bible, and find it expressly
Of wine giving to them that have justice.
No more of this, for it may well suffice.

BOOK: Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)
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