The Pardoner's Prologue & Tale
Folio 148v
1 of 19 folios
Of bothe yiftes that I speke of now
Men han ful often gretter harm than prow
Hir beaute was hir deth I dar wel sayn
Allas so pitously as she was slayn
¶ But trewly myn owne maister dere
This was a pitous tale for to here
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But nathales passe ouer is no force
I prey to god so saue thi gentil corce
And thyn vrnals and also thi Iordones
Thin ypocras and ek thi galiones
And euery boist ful of thi letuarye
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God blesse hem and our lady seint marye
So mote I theen thow art a propre man
And lik a perlate bi seint Ronian
Seide I nat wel I can not speke in terme
But wel I woot thow dost myn hert erme
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I haue almoost y caught a cardiacle
Bi corpus dominus but yif I haue triacle
Or elles a draght of moyst corny ale
Or but I here anon a mery tale
Myn hert is lost for pitee of this maide
30
Thow belamy thow pardoner he saide
Telle vs a tale thow canst many on
¶ It shal be don quod he and that anon
But first quod he here at this ale stake
I wol first drynken and biten on a kake
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¶ But ryght anon the gentiles gonne crie
Nay let him telle vs of no ribaudye
Telle vs som moral thing that we may lere
¶ Gladly quod he and seide as ye shal here
But in the cuppe wol I me bithinke
40
Vpon som honest thing whil that I drynke
Here endeth the reheytyng of our hoost
Here bigynneth the prologe of pardoners tale
Lordynges quod he in chirche whan I preche
I peyne me to haue an hauntin speche
And rynge it out as round as goth a belle
For I can al bi rote that I telle