| Oure Hooste gan to swere as he were wood; |
| "Harrow!" quod he, "by nayles and by blood! |
| This was a fals cherl and a fals justise. |
| 290 | As shameful deeth as herte may devyse |
| Come to thise juges and hire advocatz! |
| Algate this sely mayde is slayn, allas! |
| Allas, to deere boughte she beautee! |
| Wherfore I seye al day that men may see |
| 295 | That yiftes of Fortune and of Nature |
| Been cause of deeth to many a creature. |
| Hire beautee was hire deth, I dar wel sayn. |
| Allas, so pitously as she was slayn! |
| Of bothe yiftes that I speke of now |
| 300 | Men han ful ofte moore for harm than prow. |
| But trewely, myn owene maister deere, |
| This is a pitous tale for to heere. |
| But nathelees, passe over; is no fors. |
| I pray to God so save thy gentil cors, |
| 305 | And eek thyne urynals and thy jurdones, |
| Thyn ypocras, and eek thy galiones, |
| And every boyste ful of thy letuarie; |
| God blesse hem, and oure lady Seinte Marie! |
| So moot I theen, thou art a propre man, |
| 310 | And lyk a prelat, by Seint Ronyan! |
| Seyde I nat wel? I kan nat speke in terme; |
| But wel I woot thou doost myn herte to erme, |
| That I almoost have caught a cardynacle. |
| By corpus bones! but I have triacle, |
| 315 | Or elles a draughte of moyste and corny ale, |
| Or but I heere anon a myrie tale, |
| Myn herte is lost for pitee of this mayde. |
| Thou beel amy, thou Pardoner," he sayde, |
| "Telle us som myrthe or japes right anon." |
| 320 | "It shal be doon," quod he, "by Seint Ronyon! |
| But first," quod he, "heere at this alestake |
| I wol bothe drynke and eten of a cake." |
| But right anon thise gentils gonne to crye, |
| "Nay, lat hym telle us of no ribaudye! |
| 325 | Telle us som moral thyng, that we may leere |
| Som wit, and thanne wol we gladly heere." |
| "I graunte, ywis," quod he, "but I moot thynke |
| Upon som honest thyng while that I drynke." |