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The wordes of the Host to the Phisicien and the Pardoner.
OUR Hoste gan to swere as he were wood, | |
| ‘Harrow!’ quod he, ‘by nayles and by blood! | |
| This was a fals cherl and a fals Iustyse! | |
| As shamful deeth as herte may devyse | |
| Come to thise Iuges and hir advocas! | 5 |
| Algate this sely mayde is slayn, allas! | |
| Allas! to dere boghte she beautee! | |
| Wherfore I seye al day, as men may see, | |
| That yiftes of fortune or of nature | |
| Ben cause of deeth to many a creature. | 10 |
| Hir beautee was hir deeth, I dar wel sayn; | |
| Allas! so pitously as she was slayn! | |
| Of bothe yiftes that I speke of now | |
| Men han ful ofte more harm than prow. | |
| But trewely, myn owene mayster dere, | 15 |
| This is a pitous tale for to here. | |
| But natheles, passe over, is no fors; | |
| I prey to god, so save thy gentil cors, | |
| And eek thyne urinals and thy Iordanes, | |
| Thyn Ypocras, and eek thy Galianes, | 20 |
| And every boist ful of thy letuarie; | |
| God blesse hem, and our lady seinte Marie! | |
| So mot I theen, thou art a propre man, | |
| And lyk a prelat, by seint Ronyan! | |
| Seyde I nat wel? I can nat speke in terme; | 25 |
| But wel I woot, thou doost my herte to erme, | |
| That I almost have caught a cardiacle. | |
| By corpus bones! but I have triacle, | |
| Or elles a draught of moyste and corny ale, | |
| Or but I here anon a mery tale, | 30 |
| Myn herte is lost for pitee of this mayde. | |
| Thou bel amy, thou Pardoner,’ he seyde, | |
| ‘Tel us som mirthe or Iapes right anon.’ | |
| ‘It shall be doon,’ quod he, ‘by seint Ronyon! | |
| But first,’ quod he, ‘heer at this ale-stake | 35 |
| I wol both drinke, and eten of a cake.’ | |
| But right anon thise gentils gonne to crye, | |
| ‘Nay! lat him telle us of no ribaudye; | |
| Tel us som moral thing, that we may lere | |
| Som wit, and thanne wol we gladly here.’ | 40 |
| ‘I graunte, y-wis,’ quod he, ‘but I mot thinke | |
| Up-on som honest thing, whyl that I drinke. | |
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