The works of our ancient, learned, & excellent English poet, Jeffrey Chaucer as they have lately been compar'd with the best manuscripts, and several things added, never before in print : to which is adjoyn'd The story of the siege of Thebes, by John Lidgate ... : together with The life of Chaucer, shewing his countrey, parentage, education, marriage, children, revenues, service, reward, friends, books, death : also a table, wherein the old and obscure words in Chaucer are explained, and such words ... that either are, by nature or derivation, Arabick, Greek, Latine, Italian, French, Dutch, or Saxon, mark'd with particular notes for the better understanding of their original.

¶The Pardoners Prologue.

LOrdings (qd. he) in chirch when I preche, I paine mee to haue an hauteine speche, And ring it out, as round as doth a bell, For I can all by rote that I tell. My teme is alway one, and euer was, * (Radix omnium malorum est cupiditas) First I prono••nce fro whence I come, And then my bils I shew all and some: Our liege lords seale on my patent That shew I first, my body to warrent, That no man be so bold, priest ne clerke, Me to disturbe of Christs holy werke. And after that I tell forth my tales Of Buls, of Popes, and of Cardinales, Of Patriarkes, and of Bishops I shew, And in latine I speake words a few To sauer with my predication, And for to stere men to deuotion. Then shew I forth my long christall stones, Ycrammed full of clouts and of bones, Relickes they been, as wene they echone: Then haue I in laton a shoder bone, Which that was of an holy iewes shepe. Good men say I, take of my words kepe: If that this bone be washen in any well, If cow or calfe, sheepe, or oxe swell

That any worme hath eaten, or hem stong, Take water of this well, and wash his tong, And it is hole anon: and furthermore Of pockes, and of scabs, and euery sore Shall shepe be hole, that of this well Drinketh a draught,, take keepe of y^t I tell. If that the good man that beasts oweth, Woll euery day ere the cocke croweth, Fasting drinke of this well a draught, (As thilke holy iew our elders taught) His beasts and his store shall multiplie: And sirs, also it healeth jealousie, For though a man be fall in jealous rage, Let make with this water his potage, And never shall he more his wife mistrist, Though he in sooth the defaut by her wist: All had she taken priests two or three. Here is a mittaine eke, that ye may see: He that his hand woll put in this mittaine, He shall have multiplying of his graine, When he hath sowen, be it wheat or otes, So that he offer good pens or grotes. And men & women, o thing I warne you: If any wight been in this church now, That hath done sinne horrible, that he Dare not for shame of it shriuen be: Or any woman, be she yong or old, That hath made her husbond a cokewold, Such folke shull haue no power ne no grace To offer to my relickes in this place. And who so findeth him out of such blame, Commeth up and offer in Gods name, And I assoyle him by the authoritie, Such as by bull was graunted vnto me. By this gaude haue I won every yere An hundred marke, sithen I was pardonere. I stond like a clerke in my pulpet, And when the leud people been doune yset, I preach so as ye haue lered before, And tell to them an hundred yapes more. Then paine I me to stretch forth my necke, And east and west vpon the people I becke As doth a dove, sitting upon a berne: My honds and my tongue gone so yerue, That it is joy to see my businesse. Of avarice and of such cursednesse All my preaching is for to maken hem free To yeuen her pens, and namely vnto me. For mine entent is not but for to winne, And nothing for correction of sinne. I recke neuer when that they ben buried, Though her soule gone a black buried. * For certes many a predication Commeth oft time of evill entention. Some for pleasaunce of folke, & for flaterie, To been auaunced by hipocrisie: And some for vaineglory, and some for hate. For when I dare not other wayes debate, Then woll I sting hem with my tongue smert In preaching, so that he shall not astert To ben defamed falsely, if that he Hath trespassed to my bretherne or to me. For though I tell not his proper name, Men shall well know that it is the same By signes, or by other circumstaunces. Thus quite I folke, y^t doth vs displeasaunces: Thus put I out my venum under hew Of holinesse, to seemen holy and trew, But shortly mine entent I woll deuise, I preach of nothing but of couetise. Therefore my teme is yet, and ever was, Radix omnium malorum est cupiditas. Thus can I preach ayenst y^• same vice Which that I use, and that is avarice. But though my self be guilty in that sinne, Yet can I maken other folke to twinne From auarice, and sore hem to repent: But that is not my principal entent, I preach nothing but for couetise. Of this matere it ought ynough suffise. Then tell I hem ensamples many a one Of old stories done long time agone. For leaud people aye louen tales old, Which things they can well report & hold. What, trowen ye whiles that I may prech, And win gold and siluer for to tech, That I woll liue in pouert wilfully? Nay, nay, I thought it neuer truly. For I woll preach and beg in sundry londs, I woll not doe no labour with mine honds, Ne make baskets and liue thereby, Because I woll not beg idelly. I woll none of the apostles counterfete: I woll haue money, mault, cheese, & whete, All were it yeuen of the poorest page, Or of the poorest widdow in a village: Though her children should sterue for famine. Nay, I woll drinke the licour of the wine, And haue a jolly wench in every toun: But hearkeneth lordings my conclusioun. Your liking is that I should tell a tale, Now I haue drunken a draught of corny ale: By God I hope I shall tell you a thing, That shall by reason been at your liking: For though my selfe be a full vicious man, A morall tale yet I you tell can, Which I am wont to preach, for to win: Now hold your peace, my tale I woll begin.

¶The Pardoners Tale.

A company of Riotours conspire to kill Death, who killeth them one after another.

IN Flanders whilom there was a companie Of yong folke, that haunted follie: As hasard, riot, stewes, and tauernes, Whereas with harps, lutes, and geternes, They dauncen & plaien at dice night & day, And eaten also, ouer that her might may. Through which they done the deuill sacrifice Within the devils temple, in cursed wise, By superfluitie abhominable: Her othes been so great and so damnable, That it is grisly for to heare hem sweare: Our blessed lords body they all to teare, Hem thought y^e Iews rent him not ynough: And each of hem at others sinne lough. And right anon comen in tomblesteres Fetis and smale, and yong foiteres, Singers with harpes, bauds, and waferers, Which that been verely the deuils officers

To kindle and blow the fire of letcherie, That is annexed vnto glotonie. The holy writ take I to my witnesse, That letchery is in wine and dronkennesse. Lo how that dronken Loth vnkindly Lay by his daughters two vnwittingly, So dronke he was he nist what he wrought, And therefore sore repenten him ought. Herodes, who so woll the stories seche, There may ye learne, & by ensample teche, When he of wine was replete at his feast, Right at his owne table yaue his hest To sleen Iohan the Baptist full guiltlesse. Seneke saith eke good words doubtlesse: He saith he can no difference find * Betwixt a man that is out of his mind, And a man the which is dronkelew: But that woodnesse fallen in a shrew, Perseuereth lenger than doth dronkennesse. O glotenie, full of cursednesse: O cause first of our confusion, O originall of our damnation, Til Christ had bouʒt vs with his blood again: Lo how dere, shortly for to sain, Bought was first this cursed villanie: Corrupt was all this world throgh glotenie. Adam our fornfather, and his wife also, Fro Paradice, to labour and to wo Were driven for that vice, it is no drede: For whiles that Adam fasted, as I rede, He was in Paradise, and when that hee Eat of the fruit defended on the tree, Anon he was out cast to wo and paine. O glotenie, on thee well ought vs to plaine. * Oh, wist a man how many maladies Followeth of excesse and of glotenies, He would been the more measurable Of his diete, sitting at his table. Alas the short throat, the tender mouth, Maketh that East & West, North & South, In earth, in aire, in water, men to swinke, To getten a glutton deinte meat and drinke. Of this matter, O Paul, wel canst thou treat, * Meat vnto wombe, & wombe eke vnto meat Shall God destroien both, as Paule saith. Alas, a foule thing it is by my faith, To say this word, and fouler is the dede, When men so drinketh of the white and rede, That of his throte he maketh his priue Through thilke cursed superfluite. The Apostle saieth weeping full pitously, There walken many, of which told haue I, I say it now weeping with pitous voice, They been enemies of Christs croice, Of which the end is death, womb is her God. O belly, O wombe, O stinking cod, Fulfilled of dong and corruptioun, At either end of thee foule is the soun. How great cost and labour is there to find These cookes? Lord how they stamp, strein, & grind, And turne substance into accident, To fulfill all thy likerous talent. Out of the hard bones knocken they The mary, for they cast it not away, That may go through the gullet soft & sote: Of spicerie, of leaves, barke, and rote, Shall been his sauce ymade by delite To maken hem have a newer appetite. * But certes he that haunteth such delices, Is dead, whiles that he liveth in the vices. * A lecherous thing is wine & dronkennes, It is full of striving and of wretchednes. Oh dronken man, disfigured in thy face, Soure is thy breath, foul art thou to enbrace: And through thy dronken nose souneth y^• soun, As tho thou saidest aie Sampson, Sampsoun: And yet God wot Sampson dronk never wine. Thou fallest, as it were a sticked swine: Thy tongue is lost, and all thine honest cure, * For drunkennesse is very sepulture Of mans wit, and his discretion. * In whom that drinke hath domination, He can no counsaile keepe, it is no drede. Now kepe you fro the white & fro the rede, And namely fro the White wine of Lepe, That is to sell in Fishstreet and in Chepe. This wine of Spaine creepeth subtilly, And so do other wines growing fast by: Of which riseth such fumositee, That when a man hath dronk draughts three, And weneth that he be at home in Chepe, He is in Spaine, right at the toune of Lepe, Nought at Rochell, ne at Burdeaux toun. And then woll he say, Sampsoun, Sampsoun, But herkeneth lordings o word, I you pray, That all the soveraigne acts dare I say Of victories in the old Testament, That through very God, y^t is omnipotent, Were doen in abstinence and in prayere: Looketh the Bible, and there ye mow it lere. Looketh Attila, the great conquerour Died in his sleepe, with shame & dishonour Bleeding aye at his nose in drunkennesse: A captaine should liue in sobernesse. And over all this, auise you right well, What was commaunded unto Lamuel? Not Samuell: but Lamuel say I. Redeth the Bible, and find it expresly Of wine yeuing to hem that haue justice: No more of this, for it may well suffice.

And now that I have spoke of glotonie, Now woll I defend you hasardrie. Hasard is very mother of lesings, And of deceit, and cursed forswearings: Blaspheme of Christ, manslauʒter, & wast also Of cattel, of time, and of other mo. * It is repreue, and contrary to honour, For to be holden a common hasardour. And ever the higher that he is of estate, The more he is holden desolate. If that a Prince shall use hasardrie In his gouernaunce and pollicie, He is as by common opinion Hold the lesse in reputation. Stillebon that was hold a wise embassadour, Was sent to Corinth with full great honour Fro Calidone, to maken hem alliaunce: And when he came, there happed this chaunce, That all the greatest that were of the lond Playing at hasard he hem yfond:

For which, as soone as it might be, He stale him home ayen to his countre, And saied, There woll I not lese my name, I nill not take on me so great defame, For to allie you to none hasardours: Sendeth other wiser embassadours. For by my trouth, me were leuer die Than I should you to hasardours alie. For ye that been so glorious in honours, Shall not alie you with hasardours, As by my will, ne by my treatie: This wise Philosopher thus saied he. Looke eke how to king Demetrius The king of Parthes, as y^e booke saieth vs, Sent him a paire of dice of gold in scorne, For he had vsed hasardrie there biforne: For which he held his glory and his renoun At no value or reputatioun. * Lords might find other manner play Honest ynough to driue the day away.

Now wol I speake of othes false & great A word or two, as other bookes entreat, * Great swearing is thing abhominable, And false swearing is yet more reprouable: The high God forbad swearing at all, Witnesse of Mathew: but in speciall Of swearing saieth the holy Ieremie, * Thou shalt sweare sooth thine othes, & not lie: And sweare in dome & eke in rightwysnes, But idle swearing is a cursednesse. Behold and see that in the first table Of high Gods hestes that ben honourable, How that the second hest of him is this, Take not my name in idlenesse amis. Lo, he rather forbiddeth such swearing, Than homicide, or any other cursed thing: I say as thus, by order it stondeth, This knoweth they y^t his hests vnderstond∣eth, How that the second hest of God is that: And furthermore, I woll thee tell all plat, * That vengeaunce shall not part fro his hous, That of his othes is too outrageous, By Gods precious heart, and his nailes, And by the bloud of Christ, that is in Hailes, Seuen is my chaunce, & thine fiue and three: By Gods armes, if thou falsly play me, This dagger shall through thine heart ygo. This fruit it commeth of thilke bones two, For swearing, ire, falsenesse, and homicide. Now for the loue of Christ that for vs dide, Leaueth your othes, both great and smale, For I shall tell you a meruellous tale. These roitours three, of which I tell, Long erst or prime rong any bell, Were set hem in a Tauerne to drinke: And as they sat, they heard a bell clinke Before a corse that was carried to his graue: That one of hem gan to call to his knaue, Goe bette (qd. he) and aske redily, What corse is this, that passeth forth by: And looke that thou report his name wele. Sir (qd. he) it needeth neuer a dele: It was me told ere ye came here two hours, He was parde an old fellow of yours, All suddainly was he slaine to night: For drunke as he sat on his bench vpright, There came a priuy theefe, men clepen death, That in this countrey all the people s••aeth: And with his speare he smote his heart at wo, And went his way withouten words mo. He hath a thousand slaine this pestilence: And maister ere ye come in his presence, Me thinketh that it were necessarie: For to beware of such an aduersarie: Bethe redy for to meten him euermore, Thus taught me my dame, I say no more. By saint Mary, saied this Tauernere, The child sayeth sooth, for he hath this yere Hens ouer a mile, slaine in a great village, Both man and woman, child, and page, I trowe his habitation be there: To been auised, great wisdome it were, Ere that he did a man dishonour, Ye, Gods armes (qd. this riotour) Is it such perill with him for to meet? I shall him seeche by stile and eke by street. I make auow by Gods digne bones, Herkeneth fellowes, we three been all ones: Let ech of vs hold vp his hond to other, And ech of vs become others brother, And we woll slea this false traitour death: He shall be slaine, that so many slaeth By Gods dignity, ere that it be night. Togider han these three her trouths plight To liue and die ech of them with other, As though he were his owne brother. And vp they stert all dronken in this rage, And forth they gone toward that village, Of which the Tauerner hath spoken before, And many a gris••y othe ha•• they swore, And Christes blessed body they to rent, Death shall be dead, and we may him hent. When they han gone not fully a mile, Right as they would haue troden ouer a stile An old poore man with hem met. This old man full meekely hem gret, And saied, now lordings God ye see. The proudest of these riotours three Answerd ayen, what churle with hard grace, Why art thou all forwrapped saue thy face? Why liuest thou so long in so great age? This old man gan looken in his visage, And saied thus: for that I cannot find A man, though I walked into Iude, Neither in city, ne in no village, That would chaunge his youth for mine age, And therefore mote I haue mine age still As long time as it shall be Gods will. Ne death alas ••ill not haue my life, Thus walke I like a restlesse caitife, And on y^e ground, which is my mothers gate, I knocke with my staffe erliche and late, And say still, leue mother let me in, Lo how I vanish, flesh, blood, and skin: Alas, when shall my bones been at rest, Mother with you would I chaunge my chest, That in my chamber long time hath be, Ye for an heren clout to wrap in me: But yet to me she woll not doen y^• grace, For which full pale and welked is my face.

* But sirs, to you it is ne courtesie To speaken vnto an old man villanie, But he trespace in word either in dede, In holy writ you may your selfe well rede: * Ayenst an old man, hore vpon his hede Ye should arise: therefore I you rede Ne doeth to an old man no harme as now, No more than ye would a man did you In age, if that ye may so long abide. And God be with you whether ye go or ride, I mote go thider as I have to go. Nay old churle, by God thou shalt not so, Saied these other hasardours anon. Thou partest not so lightly by saint Iohn: Thou spakest riʒt now of thilke traitor death, That in this country all our friends slaeth: Have here my trouth thou art his espie, Tell where he is, or els thou shalt die By God and by the holy Sacrament, For soothly thou art of his assent To slea vs yong folke, O thou false thefe. Now sirs, if it be to you so lefe To find death, tourne vp this crooked way, For in that groue I left him by my fay Vnder a tree, and there he woll abide: Ne for your bost he nill him nothing hide. Se ye yonder oke, right there ye shall him find: God saue you, that bought ayen mankind, And you amend, thus saied this old man. Then eueriche of these riotours ran, Til they came to y^e tree, & there they found Floreines of gold fine, y••oined round, Well nigh a seuen bushels, as hem thought: No lenger than after death they sought, But ech of hem so glad was of that sight, For that the Floreins so faire been & bright, That doune they sit by the precious hord, The yongest of hem spake the first word. Brethren (qd. he) take keepe what I say, My wit is great, though I bord or play: This treasure hath fortune to vs yeuen In mirth and iollity our life to liuen, And lightly as it comes, so woll we spend: Heie, Gods precious hart: who did once wend To day, y^t we should have so faire a grace? But might this gold be caried fro this place Home to my house, or els vnto yours, (For well I wote y^t all this gold is ours). Then were we in high felicite. But truly by day it may not be, Men would then say that we wer theeues strong, And for our owne treasure doen vs hong. This treasure must yearied be by night As wisely and as slily as it might. Wherefore I rede, draw cut among vs all, And let us see where the cut woll fall: He that hath the shortest cut, with hart blith, Shall renne to the toune, & that full swith, To bring vs bread and drinke full priuely: And two of us shall keepe full subtilly This treasure well, and if he woll not tarie, When it is night, we woll this treasure carie By one assent, where as vs list best. That one of hem brought grasse in his fest, And bad hem draw, & look where it wold fall, And it fell on the yongest of hem all: And forth toward the toune he went anone. And also as soone as he was gone, That one of hem spake vnto that other, Thou wost well thou art my sworne brother, Thy profite woll I tell thee right anone: Thou wost well that our fellow is gone, And here is gold, and y^t full great plentee, That shall departed be among vs three. But nathelesse, if that I can shape it so, That it departed were among vs two, Had I not doen a friendly turne to thee? That other answerd, I not how y^t might be: I woll well that the gold were ours two, What should we doe, that it might be so? Shall it be counsaile (said the first shrew) And I shall tell thee in words few What we woll doen, & bring it well about. I graunt (qd. that other) out of dout: That by my trouth I woll thee not bewrain. Now (qd. he) thou wost well we been twain, And twain of vs shall stronger be than one? Looke when he is set, and then anone Arise, as thogh thou wouldest with him play, And I shall riuen him through the sides tway, Whiles y^t thou struglest with him as in game: And with thy dagger looke thou do y^e same, And then shall all the good departed be My owne dere friend, betwixt thee & me: Then may we both all our lusts fulfill, And play at vice, right at our owne will. And thus accorded ben these shrews tway, To slea the third, as ye heard me say. This yongest, which y^t went to y^e toune, Full often in his hart rolled up and doune The beauty of these floreines faire & bright: O Lord (qd. he) if so were that I might Haue all this treasure to my selfe alone, There nis no man that liueth vnder trone Of God, that should liue so merry as I: And at the last the fiend our enemy Put in his thought that he shuld poison bey, With which he might slaen his felows twey. For why, the fiend fond him in such liuing, That he had leue to sorrow him to bring. For this was vtterly his entent, To slaen hem both, and neuer to repent. And forth he goth, no lenger would he tary, Into the toune vnto a Potecary, And praied him that he would him sell Some poyson, that he might his rats quell. And eke there was a Polkat in his hawe, That as he saied, his Capons had yslaw: And said, he would wreken him if y^t he might Of vermine, that destroied hem by night. The Poticarie answerd, thou shalt haue A thing, as wisly God my soule saue, In all this world there nis no creature That eateth or drinketh of this confecture, Not but the mountenaunce of a corne of That he ne shall his life anone forlete, Ye sterue he shall, and that in lesse while, where, Than thou woldest gone apace, not but a mile: This poison is so hard & so violent. This tursed man hath in his hond hent This poison in a boxe, and swithe he ran Into the next street unto a man,

And borrowed of him large bottles three, And in the two the poison poured he: The third he kept cleane for his own drinke, For all the night he shope him for to swinke In carying of the gold out of that place. And when this riotour with sorry grace Hath fild with him his great bottles three, To his fellowes ayen repaired hee. What needeth it thereof to sermon more? For right as they had cast his death before, Right so they han him slain, and y^t anone. And when this was doen, then spake y^t one, Now let us sit and drinke, & make vs mery, And afterward they wolne his body bury: And after that it happed hem per caas, The one took the bottle, there y^e poison was, And dronke, & yaue his fellow drinke also, Through which anon they steruen both two. But certes I suppose that Auicenne Wrote neuer in no chanon, ne in no fenne More wonder sorrows of empoysoning. Than had these wretches two in her ending. Thus ended been these homicides two, And eke the false empoysoner also. O cursed sinne, full of all cursednesse, O traitour homicide, O wickednesse, O glotenie, luxurie, and hasardie, Thou blasphemour of Christ with villanie, And othes great, of vsage and of pride: Alas mankind, how may it betide, That to thy creatour, which y^t thee wrought, And with his precious blood thee bought, Thou art so false and so vnkind, alas. Now good men, God foryeue you your tres∣pas: And ware you fro the sinne of auarice, Mine holy pardon may you all warish, So that ye offer nobles or starlings, Other els siluer spoones, brooches, or rings. Boweth your head vnder this holy Bull. Commeth vp ye wiues, & offreth of your wol, Your names here I enter in my roll anone, Into the blisse of heauen shull ye all gone: I you assoile by mine high powere Ye that offren, to been as cleane and clere As ye were borne. Lo sirs, thus I preach: And Iesu Christ, that is our soules leach, So graunt you his pardon to receiue, For that is best, I woll you not deceiue. But sirs, one word foryate I in my tale, I haue relickes and pardons in my male, As faire as any man man in Englond, Which were yeuen me by the Popes hond. If any of you woll of deuotion Offren, and haue mine absolution, Commeth forth anon, & kneeleth her adoun That ye may haue part of my Pardoun, Or els taketh pardon as ye wend, All new and fresh at euery tounes end, So that ye offren alway new and new Nobles or pens, which been good and trew. It is great honour to euerich that is here, That ye may haue a sufficient pardonere To assoile you in countrey there ye ride, For auentures, which that may betide. For perauenture there may fall one or two Doune off her hors, & breke her neck atwo. Look which suertie it is to you all, That I am in your fellowship yfall, That may assoile you both more and lasse, When that the soule shall fro thy body passe. I rede that our host shall first beginne, For he is most enuelopt of sinne. Commeth forth sir host, & offer first anone, And thou shalt kisse the relikes euerichone Ye for a grote, vnbokell anon thy purse. Nay nay (qd. he) then haue I Christs curse: Let be (qd. he) it shall not be so theiche, Thou wouldest make me kisse thine old brech, And sweare it were a relike of a saint, Though it were with thy foundement de∣paint. But by the crosse which saint Helain fond, I would I had thine coilons in mine hond Insteed of relikes, or of sanctuarie: Let cut hem of, I woll help thee hem to carie, They shull be shrined in an hogs tord. This Pardoner answered not a word, So wroth he was, he would no word say. Now (qd. our host) I woll no lenger play With thee, ne with none other angrie man, But right anon the worthy knight began, When that he saw that all the people lough: No more of this, for it is right ynough, Sir Pardoner, be merry and glad of chere, And ye sir host, that been to me so dere: I pray you that ye kisse the Pardonere, And Pardoner, I pray thee draw thee nere, And as we did, let us lough and play: Anon they kissed, and ride forth her way.