Alas, so pitifully as she was slain!                  Though he knew the truth of her misdeed, 434         Of this mateere it oghte ynogh suffise. 815           Hadde I nat doon a freendes torn to thee?"                   Tell us some moral thing, that we may learn Than had these two wretches, before their ending. 811           And heere is gold, and that ful greet plentee, 430         Yet kan I maken oother folk to twynne 755         Have heer my trouthe, as thou art his espye, 725         And therfore moot I han myn age stille, As does a dove sitting on a barn. 290         As shameful deeth as herte may devyse 291         Come to thise juges and hire advocatz! ", 750         "Nay, olde cherl, by God, thou shalt nat so," 602         Yholde the lasse in reputacioun. Of which the end is death; belly is their god!"                  In all governance and policy For I know all by rote that I tell. 493         He seith he kan no difference fynde                  It seems to me that it would be necessary No, no, I never truly intended it, Because I will preach and beg in strange lands But never do labor                  Do no harm now unto an old man,                    And as soon as he was gone, 948         Thou woldest make me kisse thyn olde breech, For which full pale and withered is my face. 867         This poysoun is so strong and violent." in here and there to spice up my sermons and make them sound holy. 489         Whan he of wyn was repleet at his feeste,                   And every container full of thy electuaries; 788           But trewely, by daye it may nat bee. Right there you shall find him. God bless them, and our lady Saint Mary! 590         Now wol I yow deffenden hasardrye. 438         Swiche thynges kan they wel reporte and holde. 847         For-why the feend foond hym in swich lyvynge                  "Shall it be (our) secret plan?" 747         In age, if that ye so longe abyde. 761         To fynde Deeth, turne up this croked wey, 856         That, as he seyde, his capouns hadde yslawe,                   But first," said he, "here at this ale stake (tavern sign) 729         And on the ground, which is my moodres gate, 322         I wol bothe drynke and eten of a cake." 340         Me to destourbe of Cristes hooly werk. quod he, "thanne have I Cristes curs! 949         And swere it were a relyk of a seint, 403         For myn entente is nat but for to wynne, 733         Allas, whan shul my bones been at reste? the pope’s official seal that’s on my passport in order to protect myself from                  Providing that you offer, again and again, I preach nothing but for greed. Who of his oaths is too excessive.                  Come forth, sir Host, and offer first right now, 309         So moot I theen, thou art a propre man, 424         I preche of no thyng but for coveityse. The Pardoner's Prologue and Tale is a story that is a part of The Canterbury Tales by English writer, Geoffrey Chaucer.                  He shall have multiplying of his grain, 735         That in my chambre longe tyme hath be, 562         Now kepe yow fro the white and fro the rede, 855         And eek ther was a polcat in his hawe, 808           "Thow knowest wel thou art my sworen brother; I always start by showing (1 Timothy 6:10) ‘Lordings,’ quoth he, ‘in churches when I preach, I take great pains to make a forceful speech, And …                    And commanded them to draw and see where it will fall;                  With which he might slay his two fellows; 644         Than homycide or many a cursed thyng; 294         Wherfore I seye al day that men may see                  And with that word it happened to him, by chance, 678         And wente his wey withouten wordes mo.                  And beyond all this, consider right well 952         I wolde I hadde thy coillons in myn hond 366         `And, sires, also it heeleth jalousie; 519         In erthe, in eir, in water, men to swynke 518         Maketh that est and west and north and south, 517         Allas, the shorte throte, the tendre mouth, 610         He stal hym hoom agayn to his contree, 10 years ago. 786           For wel ye woot that al this gold is oures -- 299         Of bothe yiftes that I speke of now                   As shameful a death as heart can devise 916         And Jhesu Crist, that is oure soules leche, By mutual agreement, where we think best." 719         Why lyvestow so longe in so greet age?"                  He shall be slain, he who slays so many, 857         And fayn he wolde wreke hym, if he myghte, Greed is the root of evils: Paul's Epistle to Timothy, chapter 6. The pardoner’s prologue Geoffrey Chaucer 5 10 15 20 25 background In the medieval church, a pardoner was a clergy member who had authority from the pope to grant indulgences—certificates of forgiveness—to people who showed great charity. 306         Thyn ypocras, and eek thy galiones, The third he kept clean for his drink.                  O origin of our damnation, The beauty of these florins new and bright. 305         And eek thyne urynals and thy jurdones, O first cause of our ruin! 631         Gret sweryng is a thyng abhominable, 588         Namoore of this, for it may wel suffise. Radix malorum est cupiditas; Ad Thimotheum, sexto.                  Of avarice and of such cursedness                  Listen, fellows, we three are all agreed; And yet however guilty of that sin Myself, with others I have power to win                  And with his spear he struck his heart in two, And also the false poisoner as well. To offer to my relics in this place. 637         And swere in doom and eek in rightwisnesse"; 596         For to ben holde a commune hasardour. An honest pardoner was entitled to a percentage of the take; however, most pardoners were dishonest and took much more than their share and, in many cases, would take all the contributions. An hundred marks since I was pardoner.                  That all the greatest men that were of that land,                  Every sheep shall be whole that of this well 864         That he ne shal his lif anon forlete;                  For which, as soon as it could be, To give their pennies, and namely unto me.                  Look what a safeguard is it to you all Wol every wike, er that the cok him croweth.                  And with thy dagger see that thou do the same; 930         Nobles or pens, whiche that be goode and trewe. For, though a man be falle in Ialous rage. 800           Whan it is nyght, we wol this tresor carie, And like a prelate, by Saint Ronyan! 682         For to be war of swich an adversarie. 292         Algate this sely mayde is slayn, allas! 960         But right anon the worthy Knyght bigan, 358         Of pokkes and of scabbe, and every soore                  You who will offer, as clean and also as clear (of sin) Concerning this matter this ought to be enough. 375         Whan he hath sowen, be it whete or otes, And great oaths, out of habit and out of pride!                  Of high God's honorable commandments,                  Such folk shall have no power nor no grace                  And whoever finds himself out of such blame, Completely drunk, as he sat on his bench upright. 933         T' assoille yow in contree as ye ryde, Unless he trespass in word or else in deed. Gold coins or silver pennies, which are good and true. 802           That oon of hem the cut broghte in his fest,                  And suddenly he was slain last night, My wit is great, though I jest and play. The Pardoner says that every sermon he gives is always on the same theme: “Radix malorum est Cupiditas,” or “Greed is the root of all evils.” In these sermons, he shows his bag of fake relics to the congregation.                  Now I have drunk a draft of strong ale, 614         Sendeth othere wise embassadours; 620         This wise philosophre, thus seyde hee. 289         This was a fals cherl and a fals justise.                  I show that first, to protect my body, THE PROLOGUE "Masters," quoth he, "in churches, when I preach, I am at pains that all shall hear my speech, And ring it out as roundly as a bell, For I know all by heart the thing I tell. Thou art so false and so unnatural, alas? 491         To sleen the Baptist John, ful giltelees. O gluttony, on thee well we ought to complain! 965         I prey yow that ye kisse the Pardoner. 877         Hadde filled with wyn his grete botels thre, 622         The kyng of Parthes, as the book seith us, These are letters that the pope himself has signed. 570         He is in Spaigne, right at the toune of Lepe -- 836         To sleen the thridde, as ye han herd me seye. Such things they can well repeat and hold in memory. Who wende                  Dare not, for shame, be confessed of it,                      He knows that the gold is with us two; 383         Swich folk shal have no power ne no grace Radix malorum est Cupiditas: Ad Thimotheum, 6°. 650         That of his othes is to outrageous. Because I will not beg idly. 753         Thou spak right now of thilke traytour Deeth.                  And amend you!" At either end of thee the sound is foul. 774         For that the floryns been so faire and brighte,                  That all the great deeds, I dare say, Then we would be in great happiness.                  And Jesus Christ, that is our souls' physician, 804           And it fil on the yongeste of hem alle,                  In whom drink has domination 905         And ware yow fro the synne of avarice! 313         That I almoost have caught a cardynacle. 413         Thanne wol I stynge hym with my tonge smerte                  Had filled his three big bottles with wine, 891         Mo wonder signes of empoisonyng 556         Thou fallest as it were a styked swyn; 416         Hath trespased to my bretheren or to me. 559         Of mannes wit and his discrecioun. After commenting on their lifestyle of debauchery, the Pardoner enters into a tirade against the vices that they practice.                   But right away these gentlefolk began to cry,                  Drinks a draft. And not at all for correction of sin.                  There is no man that lives under the throne                  Look, when he has set down, right away With thee, nor with any other angry man."                  Not at La Rochelle, nor at Bordeaux town --                  And said, "There I will not lose my reputation,                  Of patriarchs and bishops I show, 821         What we shal doon, and brynge it wel aboute." you have reason to suspect she’s cheating on you or if she’s had an affair with 939         That may assoille yow, bothe moore and lasse,                  Tell where he is or thou shall pay for it,                  Then I show forth my long crystal stones, They shall be enshrined in a hog's turd!". The Pardoner's Prologue is, like those of the Wife of Bath and Canon's Yeoman, an "apologia" or "literary confession," in which a character explains his or her way of life. 395         Thanne peyne I me to strecche forth the nekke, 546         To make hym yet a newer appetit. 966         And Pardoner, I prey thee, drawe thee neer, By God's dignity, before it be night!". 931         It is an honour to everich that is heer And see that thou report his name correctly. 524         Allas, a foul thyng is it, by my feith,                  Indulgences of popes and of cardinals, Or go to Lo how I waste away, flesh, and blood, and skin! 957         So wrooth he was, no word ne wolde he seye. 801           By oon assent, where as us thynketh best." And some for vain glory, and some for hate. 766         God save yow, that boghte agayn mankynde, And, as we did, let us laugh and play." 667         "Go bet," quod he, "and axe redily 346         And for to stire hem to devocioun. 384         To offren to my relikes in this place. 859         The pothecarie answerde, "And thou shalt have 595         It is repreeve and contrarie of honour 906         Myn hooly pardoun may yow alle warice, 724         That wolde chaunge his youthe for myn age;                  To say this word, and fouler is the deed, That shall be divided among us three. This poison is so strong and violent.". His appearance arouses not so much disgust as dis-ease, a profound uneasiness. 909         Boweth youre heed under this hooly bulle!

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