The Pardoner's Tale

The Canterbury Tales

The framing story of The Canterbury Tales (1390s) is quite simple. A group of about 30 pilgrims meet at the Tabard Inn in a London suburb, and agree to enter a storytelling contest as they travel on horseback to the sacred place of the martyr Thomas a Becket, in Canterbury, Kent. The pilgrims are introduced by vivid brief sketches in The General Prologue. Among the 24 pilgrims' tales there are inserted short dramatic scenes of lively talk, usually involving the host and some of the pilgrims.

24 tales must have been the full plan of the book: the return journey from Canterbury is not related, and some of the pilgrims have no stories. Use of pilgrimage as a framing device permitted Chaucer to bring together different people. We meet the three dominant groups that made up medieval society in England: the feudal group (Knight, Squire, Yeoman, Franklin, Plowman, Miller, Reeve), the church group (Nun, Monk, Friar, Cleric, Parson, Summoner, Pardoner), and the city group ■ Merchant, Wife of Bath, Host or Innkeeper). The storytelling competition also enabled the presentation of various literary genres: courtly romance, immodest fabliau, saint's life, allegorical tale, medieval sermon, beast fable, fairy tales, alchemical account, legends, and also mixtures of these genres.

The Canterbury Tales are written in rhymed heroic couplets, each line containing five stresses with regular alternation known as iambic pentameter, the most popular English poetic line, perhaps brought into English by Chaucer. In reading original Chaucer verse one must remember that the final e, which is silent in Modern English, could be pronounced at any time to provide a needed unstressed syllable. Here a Modern English adaptation is cited.

It's of three rioters I have to tell

Who long before the morning service bell

Were sitting in a tavern for a drink.

And as they sat, they heard the hand-bell clink

Before a coffin going to the grave;

One of them called the little tavern-knave

And said "Go and find out at once — look spry! —

Whose corpse is in that coffin passing by;

And see you get the name correctly too."

"Sir," said the boy, "no need, I promise you;

Two hours before you came here I was told.

He was a friend of yours in days of old,

And suddenly, last night, the man was slain,

Upon his bench, face up, dead drunk again.

There came a privy thief, they call him Death,

Who kills us all round here [...]

The publican joined in with, "By Saint Mary,

What the child says is right; you'd best be wary." [...]

The rioter said, "Is he so fierce to meet?

I'll search for him, by Jesus, street by street.

God's blessed bones! I'll register a vow!

Here, chaps! The three of us together now,

Hold up your hands, like me, and we'll be brothers

In this affair, and each defend the others,

And we will kill this traitor Death, I say!" [...]

Many and grisly were the oaths they swore,

Tearing Christ's blessed body to a shred;

"If we can only catch him, Death is dead!"

When they had gone not fully half a mile,

Just as they were about to cross a stile,

They came upon a very poor old man

Who humbly greeted them and thus began,

"God look to you, my lords, and give you quiet!"

To which the proudest of these men of riot

Gave back the answer, "What, old fool? Give place!

Why are you all wrapped up except your face?

Why live so long? Isn't it time to die?"

The old, old fellow looked him in the eye

And said, "Because I never yet have found,

Though I have walked to India, searching round

Village and city on my pilgrimage,

One who would change his youth to have my age." [...]

"I heard you mention, just a moment gone,

A certain traitor Death who singles out

And kills the fine young fellows hereabout.

And you're his spy, by God! You wait a bit.

Say where he is or you shall pay for it [...]"

"Well, sirs," he said, "if it be your design

To find out Death, turn up this crooked way

Towards that grove, I left him there today. [...]

You see that oak? He won't be far to find.

And God protect you that redeemed mankind,

Aye, and amend you!" Thus that ancient man.

At once the three young rioters began

To run, and reached the tree, and there they found

A pile of golden florins on the ground,

New-coined, eight bushels of them as they thought.

No longer was it Death those fellows sought [...]

The wickedest spoke first after a while.

"Brothers," he said, "you listen to what I say.

I'm pretty sharp although I joke away.

It's clear that Fortune has bestowed this treasure

To let us live in jollity and pleasure.

This morning was to be our lucky day?"

"If one could only get the gold away,

But certainly it can't be done by day.

People would call us robbers — a strong gang,

So our own property would make us hang.

No, we must bring this treasure back by night

Some prudent way, and keep it out of sight.

And so as a solution I propose

We draw for lots and see the way it goes,

The one who draws the longest, lucky man,

Shall run to town as quickly as he can

To-fetch us bread and wine — but keep things dark —

While two remain in hiding here to mark

Our heap of treasure. If there's no delay,

When night comes down we'll carry it away." [...]

It fell upon the youngest of them all,

And off he ran at once towards the town.

As soon as he had gone the first sat down

And thus began a parley with the other.

"You know that you can trust me as a brother;

Now let me tell you where your profit lies;

You know our friend has gone to get supplies

And here's a lot of gold that is to be

Divided equally amongst us three.

Nevertheless, if I could shape things thus

So that we shared it out — the two of us —

Wouldn't you take it as a friendly turn?"

"But how?" the other said with some concern,

"Trust me," the other said, "you needn't doubt [...]

My word. I won't betray you, I'll be true."

"Well," said his friend, "you see that we are two,

And two are twice as powerful as one.

Now look; when he comes back, get up in fun

To have a wrestle; then, as you attack,

I'll up and put my dagger through his back

While you and he are struggling, as in game;

Then draw your dagger too and do the same.

Then all this money will be ours to spend,

Divided equally of course, dear friend." [...]

The youngest, as he ran towards the town,

Kept running over, rolling up and down

Within his heart the beauty of those bright

New florins, saying, "Lord, to think I might

Have all that treasure to myself alone!

Could there be anyone beneath the throne

Of God so happy as I then should be?"

Дата добавления: 2014-01-04