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The Canterbury Tales: The Friar’s Tale
by
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.”