The Pardoner S Prologue

The Pardoner’s Prologue

Here follows the Prologue to the Pardoner’s Tale

RadixmalorumestCupiditas:

For the love of money is the root of all evil.

(1 Timothy6:10)

‘Lordings,’quothhe, ‘in churches when I preach,

I take great pains to make a forceful speech,

And ring it out as soundly as a bell,

For I know all by rote, the tale I tell.

My theme is ever one, and always was:

“Radixmalorumestcupiditas.”

First I pronounce from whence it is I come,

And then my bulls I show them, all and some.

Our liege lord’s seal is upon my patent

That I show first, as my bodily warrant,

So that none’s so bold, priest nor clerk,

As to disturb me in Christ’s holy work,

And after that, then I tell forth my tales.

Bulls of the popes and of cardinals,

Of patriarchs and bishops too, they view,

And in Latin I speak a word or two,

To season, as with saffron, declamation,

And stir them to reveal all their devotion.

Then I show forth my large crystal flagons,

Crammed full to the top with rags and bones;

Relics they are, adored by everyone.

Then I have in brass a shoulder-bone,

Belong to a holy Jew’s dead sheep.

“Good men,” say I, “note of my words now keep:

If that this bone be washed in any well,

If cow, or calf, or sheep, or ox should swell

That any worm has eat, or snake has stung,

Take water from that well and wash its tongue,

It will be whole anon; and furthermore,

Of pox and scabs and every other sore

Shall every sheep be whole that of this well

Drinks a draught.Take note of what I tell:

If the good man that the beasts do follow

Shall every week, before the cockerels crow,

Fasting too, drink of this well a draught,

As this holy Jew our elders taught,

His beasts and his stock will fruitfulbe.

And, sires, also it heals the jealousy;

For though a man descend to jealous rage,

Let him add this water to his pottage,

And nevermore shall he mistrust his wife,

Though the truth of all her sin be rife,

And even though she’s had a priest or three.

Here is a mitten too, as you can see;

He that his hand will put inside this mitten,

His grain shall multiply, as it were written,

Where he has sown, whether it’s wheat or oats,

If he makes offering of pence or groats.

Good men and women, one thing though I vow;

If anyone is in this church right now

Who has done dreadful things, thathe

Dare not, for shame of it, confess to me,

Or any woman, be she young or old,

Who has made of her husband acuckold,

Such folk shall have no power and no grace

To make offering to my relics in this place.

And whoever’s free of all such blame,

May come and make an offering, in God’s name,

And I absolve them, by the authority

This papal bull has granted unto me.”

By this trick have I gained, year on year,

A hundred marks since I made Pardoner.

I stand like a cleric in my pulpit,

And after the unlettered people sit,

I preach thus as you have heard before,

And tell a hundred false stories more.

Then I take to stretching forth my neck,

And east and west nod with due effect,

Just like a dove sitting on a barn.

My hands and tongue then work so hard

That it is a joy to view the business.

Of avarice and all such wickedness

Is all my preaching, thus to set them free

To give their pence, and namely, unto me.

For my intent is only gain to win,

Not to correct them when they chance to sin.

For I care nothing, at their burying,

Whether their souls have goneblackberrying!

And certainly, many a declamation

Arisesoftentimefrom ill intention:

Sometime to pleasure folk with flattery,

And gain advantage through hypocrisy,

Sometimes for vainglory, sometimes hate.

For when I dare not otherwise debate,

I’ll sting him with my tongue and sharp

Preaching, so that he’ll not flee far

From false slander, if it seems that he

Has offended my brethren now, or me.

For though I never speak his proper name,

Men shall know the person, all the same,

By signs and by other circumstances.

Thus I pay out folk who lead us dances;

Thus I spit out my venom with the hue

Of holiness, to seem holy still and true.

But briefly my intent I here confess:

I preach, but only out of covetousness.

Therefore my theme is now, and ever was:

“Radixmalorumestcupiditas.”

Thus do I preach against the veryvice

I too indulge in, which is avarice.

Though I myself am guilty of that sin,

Yet I have power these other folk to win

From avarice, and bitterly to repent.

Yet that is not my principal intent;

I preach only out of covetousness.

Enough now of that subject, I suggest.

Then I give examples many a one

Out of old stories from the times long gone.

For unlettered people love the tales of old;

Such things they can repeat, their minds can hold.

What! Think you, that while I can preach,

And gain gold and silver as I teach,

I would live in poverty wilfully?

Nay, nay, I’ve never thought so, truly!

For I can preach and beg in sundry lands.

I need never labour with my hands,

Nor make baskets, just to make a living,

Since not un-fruitfully I can go begging;

None of the apostles shall I counterfeit.

I must have money, wool, cheese and wheat,

Though it were given by the poorest page

Or the poorest widow in some village,

Though her children starve from famine.

Nay, I must drink the liquor of the vine,

And have a jolly wench in every town!

But hearken,lordings, in conclusion now:

Your pleasure is that I should tell a tale.

Now I have drunk a draught of malted ale,

By God, I hope to tell you of a thing

That shall with reason be to your liking!

For though myself I am a sinful man,

Tell you a moral tale? Well, that I can:

One that I am wont to preach for gain.

Now hold your peace; and I’ll begin again.’

The Pardoner’s Tale

Here begins the Pardoner’s Tale

InFlandersonce there was a company

Of younger folk given all to folly,

Such as riot, gambling, brothels, taverns,

Where to the harps and lutes, and tocitherns,

They danced, and played at dice both day and night,

And ate and drank more than wise men might,

Offering thereby the devil sacrifice

Within that devil’s temple of cursed vice,

With superfluity abominable.

Their oaths were so great and damnable

That it was terrible to hear them swear;

Our blessed Lord’s body thus they’d tear –

As though the Jews had not torn him enough –

And each of them at other sinners laughed.

And then anon came female tumblers,

Slender and elegant, young fruiterers,

Singers with harps, bawds, wafer-sellers,

Who are the devil’s very ownofficers,

To kindle and blow the fire of lechery,

Which is annexed indeed to gluttony.

The Holy Writ I take now as my witness

There’s lechery in wine and drunkenness.

See, how your drunken Lot unnaturally

Lay with his two daughters, unknowingly;

So drunk was he, he knew not what he wrought.

Herod, whoever of the tale knows aught,

When he was replete with wine at a feast,

At his own table ordered, like any beast,

The slaying of John the Baptist, guiltless.

Seneca too says a good thing, doubtless:

He says, there’s no difference he can find

Between some fellow who has lost his mind

And one who is a drunkard through and through,

But says that madness, when it overcomes you

Lasts longer than does ever drunkenness.

O gluttony, so full of wickedness!

O thou reason for our first confusion!

O original cause of our damnation,

Till Christ bought us with his blood again!

See, how costly, briefly to explain,

The payment for that cursed villainy;

Corrupted was this world by gluttony.

Adam our father, and his wife also,

FromParadise, to labour and to woe,

Were driven for that vice, it’s so indeed.

For while Adam fasted, as I read,

He was inParadise, and when he

Ate the forbidden fruit from the tree,

Then he was cast out to woe and pain.

O gluttony, of whom we should complain!

O, if men knew how many maladies

Follow from excess and gluttony,

They would be more temperate and careful

In their diet, when they sit at table.

Alas, the narrow throat, the tender mouth

Mean men east and west, and north and south,

In earth, air, water, labour, as I think,

Simply to bring a glutton food and drink!

Of this matter, O Paul, you also treat:

‘Meat for the belly, and the belly for the meat,

But God shall destroy both.’ So Paul says.

Alas, a foul thing it is, by my faith,

To speak the word, and fouler is the deed,

When man so drinks of white and red indeed,

That of his throat he makes his privy

By reason of cursed superfluity.

The Apostle says,whomweeping softens:

‘For many walk, of whom I’ve told you often,

And now tell you, even weeping, that they

Are enemies of the cross of Christalways:

Whose ending is destruction, andwhoseGod

Is their belly!’O womb, O stinking pod,

Filled full with dung and with corruption,

At either end, foul is the eruption!

What labour and cost it is your meat to find!

These cooks, how they stamp and strain and grind,

To turn God’s substance into accident,

To quench your avid lust, by their talent.

Out of the hard bone the marrow they

Knock, for nothing of it is thrown away

That softly, sweetly may the gullet suit.

Spices of every leaf, and bark, and root

Shall help to make the sauces of delight

That feed again a newer appetite.

And surely he who lives on such spices

Is dead, while he lives among these vices.

A lecherous thing is wine, and drunkenness

Is full of strife and of wretchedness.

O drunken man, disfigured is your face,

Sour is your breath, and foul is your embrace!

And through your nose issues a dull tone

As though you said: ‘Sampson, Sampson’.

– And yet, God knows, Sampson drank no wine.

You fall to the ground like a fresh-stuck swine;

Your tongue is lost, and every decent care,

For drunkenness is the very sepulchre

Of a man’s reason and discretion.

He, overwhomdrink has domination,

Can keep no counsel, as is truly said.

So keep you from the white and from the red,

The white fromLepé,Spain, then, set aside

That they sell inFish StreetandCheapside!

That wine ofSpaincreeps most subtly, ay,

Into the other wines they cask nearby,

From which there rises suchfumosity

That when a man has drunk of glasses three,

And thinks himself at home inCheapside,

Yet he inSpain, inLepétown, will abide –

Not atLa Rochelle, nor inBordeaux’s sun –

And then he will drone out: ‘Sampson, Sampson.’

But hearken,lordings, one word more I pray,

Know the sovereign acts, all, I dare say,

Of victory in the entire Old Testament,

Won through God who isomnipotent,

Were won in abstinence and prayer.

Look to your Bible, and find it there.

Look at Attila, the great conqueror,

Dead in his sleep, in shame and dishonour,

Bleeding from his nose in drunkenness;

A general should be sober, I’d suggest!

Moreover, consider now right well,

What was commanded ofLemuel–

Not Samuel, butLemuelsay I –

Read yourBible,see there if I lie,

On wining those with whom justice lies.

No more of this, let my words suffice.

And now that I have spoken of gluttony,

Now will I warn you about gambling’s lottery.

Gambling’s the very mother of lying,

And of deceit and cursed forswearing,

Blaspheming Christ, manslaughter, waste also

Of property and time, and further know,

It is shame and contrary to honour,

To be known as a common gambler,

And ever the higher his estate,

The more is he shunned and desolate.

If a prince choose to play the lottery,

In all his governance and policy,

He is held, by common opinion,

As the last of all in reputation.

Stilbon, who was a wise ambassador,

Was sent toCorinth, with all honour,

FromLacadaemon, to make alliance,

And on arrival, it occurred by chance

That all the greatest men of that land

He found gambling, with the die in hand.

So, as soon as might reasonably be,

He stole home again to his own country,

And said: ‘There I’ll not lose my name,

Nor will I take on me so great a shame

As to ally you with all these gamblers.

Send some other wise ambassadors;

For, in truth, indeed, I’d rather die

Than I should you to gamblersally.

You who are so glorious in honours

Shall not ally yourselves with gamblers

By any will of mine, nor any treaty.’

That wise philosopher, so said he.

Look also to that King Demetrius:

The King ofParthia, as books tell us,

Sent him a pair of golden dice in scorn,

Since he’d shown as a gambler before;

For which reason his glory and renown

He valued naught, nor his reputation.

Lords can find other, better ways to play

Honest enough to pass the day away.

Now will I speak of oaths false andgreat

A word or two, as the old books treat.

Swearing is a thing abominable,

And perjury is even more objectionable.

God on high forbade swearing at all;

Witness Matthew, but you may recall

That to which Jeremiah gavebreath:

‘And thoushaltswear, as the Lordliveth,

In truth, in judgement, and in righteousness.’

But idle swearing is pure wickedness.

Behold and see, how in the first table

Of God’s commandments honourable,

The third commandment was written plain:

‘Thoushaltnot take the Lord’s name in vain.’

See how He rather forbade such swearing

Before homicide, and other cursed things!

I say that higher in the list it stands;

This they know who know His commands,

That God’s third commandment is that.

And moreover, I will tell you flat

That vengeance shall fall onall hishouse

Whose oaths and swearing are outrageous.

‘By God’s precious heart, and by his nails,

And by the blood of Christ that is atHailes,

Seven’s my number, yours is five and three!

By God’s arms, if you play false with me,

This sharp dagger through your heart shall go!’

Such is the fruit of those two cursed bones:

Perjury, anger, cheating, homicide.

Now, for the love of Jesus Christ who died

For us, leave off your oaths, great or small.

But sires, now of my tale will I tell all.

These three profligates of whom I tell,

Long before prime rang out from any bell,

Had sat down in a tavern for a drink.

And as they sat, they heard a bell clink

Before a coffin carried to the grave.

Then one of them called to his knave:

‘Go quickly,’quothhe, ‘and ask reply

As to whose corpse this is passing by;

And remember the name aright, as well.’

‘Sire,’quoththe boy, ‘no need that they tell;

I heard it before you came these two hours,

He was, in truth, an old friend of yours,

Who was suddenly slain the othernight,

Drunk, as he lay upon his bench upright.

There came a slythiefwhom men call Death,

Who in this country steals people’sbreath,

And with his spear his heart he smote so,

And on his way without a word did go.

He slew a thousand with the pestilence.

And, master, ere you reach his presence,

I think it very wise and necessary

To be wary of such an adversary.

Be ready to meet him at every door –

So my mother taught me; now, no more.’

‘By Saint Mary!’ said the innkeeper,

‘The child is right, for he has slain this year,

Barely a mile from here, in a large village,

Men and women, children, serfs at tillage.

I think his habitation must be there.

It would be wise indeed to take care,

Lest he should doa mandishonour.’

‘What, God’s arms,’quoththe reveller,

‘Is it so perilous then with him to meet?

I’ll seek him on the highway, in the street,

I make this vow by God’s noble bones!

Hearken, friends, we three are all as one:

Let each man hold his hand up to the others,

And each to each become as brothers.

And we shall slay this false traitor Death!

He shall be slain, who steals men’s breath,

By God’s dignity, ere it be night!’

Together the three their troth did plight,

To live and die each of them for the other,

As though he were his own born brother,

And up they leapt, all drunk and in a rage,

And forth they went towards the village

Of which the innkeeper had told before.