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THE PARDONER'S TALE

GEOFFREY CHAUCER

(Retold by Mary Seymour)

When the Host called on the Pardoner to take his turn in amusing the company, he was far from unwilling, and thus began, after he had refreshed himself with some cakes and ale at the roadside inn they were just passing:

Away in Flanders there was a company of thoughtless young folk, who gave themselves up to every manner of amusement, no matter how evil it might be, such as gambling, rioting, and overmuch drinking 10 of wine.

As we all may know, this kind of existence has a rapid effect on the heart and mind; and such people, as those of whom I have to tell, sink so fast and so surely that they presently laugh at the very sin they 15 would formerly have shunned. Gluttony and idleness are in themselves vices powerful enough to cause direst ruin.

Three of these wild young men were sitting within a tavern at a very early hour one morning, but amidst 20 their jests and laughter they were disturbed by the tinkling of a bell, such as it was then customary to ring before a corpse as it was borne to the grave. It startled them somewhat, and so awakened their curiosity that they asked a little lad who had been 25 attending to their wants if he would run out and inquire who was the dead man.

"My masters, there is no need to ask," the boy replied. "Two hours or more before you came into the tavern, I was told who had died. You know him well too, for he was one of your most frequent com- 30 panions; and this is how he met his end. Last night, as he sat in his chair the worse for what he had been drinking, he was slain by a thief who destroys every one in this country, and who, with his spear, smote the man's heart in two, and then without utter- 35 ing a word went on his way. The assassin's name is Death, and during the last great pestilence he destroyed fully a thousand people, sparing neither youth nor age. It seems to me, my masters, that it would be well were you to make ready for an attack, lest he next comes 40 to one of you. My dame was always saying to me, 'Beware of Death.'”

The innkeeper had been standing by, and hearing what was said, he now gave his opinion.

"The child has told you truly, and he is right in 5 saying that we should be prepared against the coming of this terrible enemy. There is a large village not more than a mile distant from this spot wherein Death has slain every man, woman, child, and page. So many indeed have been his victims, that I cannot 50 but believe it must be his chief dwelling-place; in any case it is only common prudence to take the warning, so that he may not attack us unawares."

"Is there then so great danger of meeting the assassin?" cried one youth; adding with an oath, "I do not fear him, for I am no coward, and I shall

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give him chase, seeking him by every stile and through every street. Yes; I vow to search for and to slay this tyrant Death. Join hands, my friends, and promise that you will aid me to the fullest extent of your power.'

In their excited and half-drunken state, the others did not hesitate to plight their word and go in pursuit of the enemy; and without more ado they started 65 to reach the village where the innkeeper said so many people had been slain by his hand.

Scarcely half a mile of their way had been accomplished when, in getting over a stile, they encountered a very poor old man, who thus accosted them: "My 70 lords, good day; may God look on you!"

The roughest and noisiest of the three friends, who was ever the first to speak, now answered him: "Why are you all covered up, so that one can discern nothing but your face? And why are you so gray? 75 and why, again, do you live so long?"

The aged man did not reply for a moment, but gazed seriously at his questioner. "I live on," he said at last, "because, though I have searched in all parts of the world (even to distant Inde), I cannot 80 find any one who is willing to make the exchange of his youth for my age. Thus it is that I am forced to keep my burden of years for as long as Heaven decrees; nor can I induce Death to come and release me, though like a restless and weary wayfarer I moan and sigh 85 to come to my journey's end. Often, often I strike with my staff on my mother earth, and say, 'Dear

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mother, let me in. When, ah, when shall my bones find rest?' But she shows me no grace; and so, masters, I cannot help living."

Instead of viewing him with the compassion that such words should awaken in any human heart, the three rioters gazed with such mocking contempt that the poor old man was moved to remonstrate, reminding them that in Holy Writ it was directed 95 that honor should be paid to the infirm and the aged.

"I pray you, offer me no injury to which you would not yourselves wish to be subjected when you also are worn out and enfeebled with weight of years. But God be with you, for I must not linger longer, but 100 journey on where I have to go."

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"No, no, we are not going to part thus easily," cried one of the wild group. "You have been talking enough about Death, as if you and he were well acquainted, and it happens that he is the very traitor whom we are going to seek and to slay. Come, old man, it is of no use refusing, for we are strong and can compel you. It is well we have met, for you shall act the spy. Show us where he is, or we will make an end of you. It is vain to deny that you 110 know where he is lurking, for it is plain that you are in league with him to try to rid the world of us blithe young fellows."

"Sirs!" cried the aged man, "if you are indeed so eager to meet with Death, it will be no difficult matter. 115 You have only to turn up this narrow crooked way, and there, in a grove, you cannot fail to come upon