No Fear Literature: The Canterbury Tales: The Pardoner's Tale The Pardoner’s Tale Page 14

Continue reading with a SparkNotes PLUS trial

Already have an account? Log in

Original Text	Modern Text
The pothecarie answerde, ‘and thou shalt have A thing that, al-so God my soule save, In al this world ther nis no creature, That ete or dronke hath of this confiture Noght but the mountance of a corn of whete, That he ne shal his lyf anon forlete; Ye, sterve he shal, and that in lasse whyle Than thou wolt goon a paas nat but a myle; This poyson is so strong and violent.’	The pothecarie answerde, ‘and thou shalt have A thing that, al-so God my soule save, In al this world ther nis no creature, That ete or dronke hath of this confiture Noght but the mountance of a corn of whete, That he ne shal his lyf anon forlete; Ye, sterve he shal, and that in lasse whyle Than thou wolt goon a paas nat but a myle; This poyson is so strong and violent.’
This cursed man hath in his hond y-hent This poyson in a box, and sith he ran In-to the nexte strete, unto a man, And borwed [of] him large botels three; And in the two his poyson poured he; The thridde he kepte clene for his drinke. For al the night he shoop him for to swinke In caryinge of the gold out of that place. And whan this ryotour, with sory grace, Had filled with wyn his grete botels three, To his felawes agayn repaireth he.	This cursed man hath in his hond y-hent This poyson in a box, and sith he ran In-to the nexte strete, unto a man, And borwed [of] him large botels three; And in the two his poyson poured he; The thridde he kepte clene for his drinke. For al the night he shoop him for to swinke In caryinge of the gold out of that place. And whan this ryotour, with sory grace, Had filled with wyn his grete botels three, To his felawes agayn repaireth he.
What nedeth it to sermone of it more? For right as they had cast his deeth bifore, Right so they han him slayn, and that anon. And whan that this was doon, thus spak that oon, ‘Now lat us sitte and drinke, and make us merie, And afterward we wol his body berie.’ And with that word it happed him, par cas, To take the botel ther the poyson was, And drank, and yaf his felawe drinke also, For which anon they storven bothe two.	What nedeth it to sermone of it more? For right as they had cast his deeth bifore, Right so they han him slayn, and that anon. And whan that this was doon, thus spak that oon, ‘Now lat us sitte and drinke, and make us merie, And afterward we wol his body berie.’ And with that word it happed him, par cas, To take the botel ther the poyson was, And drank, and yaf his felawe drinke also, For which anon they storven bothe two.

Original Text	Modern Text
The pothecarie answerde, ‘and thou shalt have A thing that, al-so God my soule save, In al this world ther nis no creature, That ete or dronke hath of this confiture Noght but the mountance of a corn of whete, That he ne shal his lyf anon forlete; Ye, sterve he shal, and that in lasse whyle Than thou wolt goon a paas nat but a myle; This poyson is so strong and violent.’	The pothecarie answerde, ‘and thou shalt have A thing that, al-so God my soule save, In al this world ther nis no creature, That ete or dronke hath of this confiture Noght but the mountance of a corn of whete, That he ne shal his lyf anon forlete; Ye, sterve he shal, and that in lasse whyle Than thou wolt goon a paas nat but a myle; This poyson is so strong and violent.’
This cursed man hath in his hond y-hent This poyson in a box, and sith he ran In-to the nexte strete, unto a man, And borwed [of] him large botels three; And in the two his poyson poured he; The thridde he kepte clene for his drinke. For al the night he shoop him for to swinke In caryinge of the gold out of that place. And whan this ryotour, with sory grace, Had filled with wyn his grete botels three, To his felawes agayn repaireth he.	This cursed man hath in his hond y-hent This poyson in a box, and sith he ran In-to the nexte strete, unto a man, And borwed [of] him large botels three; And in the two his poyson poured he; The thridde he kepte clene for his drinke. For al the night he shoop him for to swinke In caryinge of the gold out of that place. And whan this ryotour, with sory grace, Had filled with wyn his grete botels three, To his felawes agayn repaireth he.
What nedeth it to sermone of it more? For right as they had cast his deeth bifore, Right so they han him slayn, and that anon. And whan that this was doon, thus spak that oon, ‘Now lat us sitte and drinke, and make us merie, And afterward we wol his body berie.’ And with that word it happed him, par cas, To take the botel ther the poyson was, And drank, and yaf his felawe drinke also, For which anon they storven bothe two.	What nedeth it to sermone of it more? For right as they had cast his deeth bifore, Right so they han him slayn, and that anon. And whan that this was doon, thus spak that oon, ‘Now lat us sitte and drinke, and make us merie, And afterward we wol his body berie.’ And with that word it happed him, par cas, To take the botel ther the poyson was, And drank, and yaf his felawe drinke also, For which anon they storven bothe two.