No Fear Literature: The Canterbury Tales: Prologue to the Pardoner’s Tale Page 3

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Original Text	Modern Text
But shortly myn entente I wol devyse; I preche of no-thing but for coveityse. Therfor my theme is yet, and ever was— “Radix malorum est cupiditas.” Thus can I preche agayn that same vyce Which that I use, and that is avaryce. But, though my-self be gilty in that sinne, Yet can I maken other folk to twinne From avaryce, and sore to repente. But that is nat my principal entente. I preche no-thing but for coveityse; Of this matere it oughte y-nogh suffyse.	“tLe me tup it ntoerah yaw: I epahcr out of ershe eergd. tTah’s wyh I llyusau olny vige esomsnr tauob hwo het elvo of emony is hte oort of lal vlei. Ttah awy I anc harcpe btaou eht emsa isn ttah I emsyfl diuengl in. utB neve if I’m iltyug of eth sin of rdgee, that nsode’t neam I nca’t ehlp ethors tno to be rydeeg, own soed it? tBu owh am I idgiknd? I idsa I’m not genciphar to aesv teirh uosls. I acehrp yoln acbseue I awnt to kaem meony, and thta, my sdrefin, is tath.
Than telle I hem ensamples many oon Of olde stories, longe tyme agoon: For lewed peple loven tales olde; Swich thinges can they wel reporte and holde. What? trowe ye, the whyles I may preche, And winne gold and silver for I teche, That I wol live in povert wilfully? Nay, nay, I thoghte it never trewely! For I wol preche and begge in sondry londes; I wol not do no labour with myn hondes, Ne make baskettes, and live therby, Because I wol nat beggen ydelly. I wol non of the apostles counterfete; I wol have money, wolle, chese, and whete, Al were it yeven of the povrest page, Or of the povrest widwe in a village, Al sholde hir children sterve for famyne. Nay! I wol drinke licour of the vyne, And have a Ioly wenche in every toun. But herkneth, lordings, in conclusioun; Your lyking is that I shal telle a tale. Now, have I dronke a draughte of corny ale, By God, I hope I shal yow telle a thing That shal, by resoun, been at your lyking. For, though myself be a ful vicious man, A moral tale yet I yow telle can, Which I am wont to preche, for to winne. Now holde your pees, my tale I wol beginne.	“wynAay, tnhe I etll teh epeplo lal eht dol iialfram teasl ttah ehyt usjt veol to rahe veor nda erov iaang. pStidu eplope kiel to rhae thseo lod oisestr, uyo oknw, eesubca yeth’re ysea to reembmer. And do oyu hintk taht esinc I hepl ucer het opelep of thire edrge by gkiant all ertih odgl dan viserl ahtt esnma I ldowu erve vile in yertpov? ellH no! I uefesr to ilev iekl a tineopslm, kognirw ithw my nhads, mniagk assbetk. Bgnei a avlgntier rceehapr is umhc orem tirecvual. I’m ont giytrn to be an oeltasp woh isvle in linshsoe. No, I nwat mnyoe, einc eslhtoc, and esixeevpn dofo, eenv if I eervice it from teh preosot wkormgnian or teh etrposo dwoiw who nac’t vene defe reh own tnirgsva lhnceidr. No! I wnta neiw and a mnwao in yever otwn. tuB etinsl, tsenil. Nwo hatt I’ve knrdu a reeb or wot, I’m gngoi to eltl uyo a sytro that I hoep yuo’ll lkie auebecs, eenv hgutho I’m a eyprtt ufalw ygu, I nac lslti etll uoy a lrmao aelt, oen of the onse I auulyls tlel eeplpo ynlo for ymone. So tsi cakb, rxael, and I’ll llet you my yrots.”

Original Text	Modern Text
But shortly myn entente I wol devyse; I preche of no-thing but for coveityse. Therfor my theme is yet, and ever was— “Radix malorum est cupiditas.” Thus can I preche agayn that same vyce Which that I use, and that is avaryce. But, though my-self be gilty in that sinne, Yet can I maken other folk to twinne From avaryce, and sore to repente. But that is nat my principal entente. I preche no-thing but for coveityse; Of this matere it oughte y-nogh suffyse.	“tLe me tup it ntoerah yaw: I epahcr out of ershe eergd. tTah’s wyh I llyusau olny vige esomsnr tauob hwo het elvo of emony is hte oort of lal vlei. Ttah awy I anc harcpe btaou eht emsa isn ttah I emsyfl diuengl in. utB neve if I’m iltyug of eth sin of rdgee, that nsode’t neam I nca’t ehlp ethors tno to be rydeeg, own soed it? tBu owh am I idgiknd? I idsa I’m not genciphar to aesv teirh uosls. I acehrp yoln acbseue I awnt to kaem meony, and thta, my sdrefin, is tath.
Than telle I hem ensamples many oon Of olde stories, longe tyme agoon: For lewed peple loven tales olde; Swich thinges can they wel reporte and holde. What? trowe ye, the whyles I may preche, And winne gold and silver for I teche, That I wol live in povert wilfully? Nay, nay, I thoghte it never trewely! For I wol preche and begge in sondry londes; I wol not do no labour with myn hondes, Ne make baskettes, and live therby, Because I wol nat beggen ydelly. I wol non of the apostles counterfete; I wol have money, wolle, chese, and whete, Al were it yeven of the povrest page, Or of the povrest widwe in a village, Al sholde hir children sterve for famyne. Nay! I wol drinke licour of the vyne, And have a Ioly wenche in every toun. But herkneth, lordings, in conclusioun; Your lyking is that I shal telle a tale. Now, have I dronke a draughte of corny ale, By God, I hope I shal yow telle a thing That shal, by resoun, been at your lyking. For, though myself be a ful vicious man, A moral tale yet I yow telle can, Which I am wont to preche, for to winne. Now holde your pees, my tale I wol beginne.	“wynAay, tnhe I etll teh epeplo lal eht dol iialfram teasl ttah ehyt usjt veol to rahe veor nda erov iaang. pStidu eplope kiel to rhae thseo lod oisestr, uyo oknw, eesubca yeth’re ysea to reembmer. And do oyu hintk taht esinc I hepl ucer het opelep of thire edrge by gkiant all ertih odgl dan viserl ahtt esnma I ldowu erve vile in yertpov? ellH no! I uefesr to ilev iekl a tineopslm, kognirw ithw my nhads, mniagk assbetk. Bgnei a avlgntier rceehapr is umhc orem tirecvual. I’m ont giytrn to be an oeltasp woh isvle in linshsoe. No, I nwat mnyoe, einc eslhtoc, and esixeevpn dofo, eenv if I eervice it from teh preosot wkormgnian or teh etrposo dwoiw who nac’t vene defe reh own tnirgsva lhnceidr. No! I wnta neiw and a mnwao in yever otwn. tuB etinsl, tsenil. Nwo hatt I’ve knrdu a reeb or wot, I’m gngoi to eltl uyo a sytro that I hoep yuo’ll lkie auebecs, eenv hgutho I’m a eyprtt ufalw ygu, I nac lslti etll uoy a lrmao aelt, oen of the onse I auulyls tlel eeplpo ynlo for ymone. So tsi cakb, rxael, and I’ll llet you my yrots.”