In Flanders whilom was a company
Of younge folk, that haunteden folly,
As riot, hazard, stewes, and taverns;
Whereas with harpes, lutes, and gitterns,[198]
They dance and play at dice both day and night,
And eat also, and drinken o'er hir might;
Through which they do the devil sacrifice
Within the devil's temple, in cursed wise,
By superfluity abominable.
Hir oathes be so great and so damnable,
That it is grisly[199] for to hear hem swear.
Our blessed Lordes body they to-tear[200];
Hem thoughte[201] Jewes rent him not enough;
And each of hem at otheres sinne lough.[202]
And right anon then comen tombesteres[203]
Fetis[204] and small, and younge fruitesteres,[205]
Singers with harpes, bawdes, waferers,[206]
Which be the very devil's officers,
To kindle and blow the fire of lechery,
That is annexed unto gluttony.
* * * * *
These riotoures three, of which I tell,
Long erst ere[207] prime rung of any bell,
Were set hem in a tavern for to drink:
And as they sat, they heard a belle clink
Before a corpse, was carried to his grave:
That one of hem gan callen to his knave,[208]
"Go bet,"[209] quoth he, "and aske readily,
What corpse is this, that passeth here forby:
And look that thou report his name well."
"Sir," quoth this boy, "it needeth never a del;
It was me told ere ye came here two hours:
He was pardie an old fellow of yours,
And suddenly he was yslain to-night,
Fordrunk[210] as he sat on his bench upright:
There came a privy thief, men clepeth[211] Death,
That in this country all the people slayeth,
And with his spear he smote his heart atwo,
And went his way withouten wordes mo.
He hath a thousand slain this pestilence:
And, master, ere ye come in his presence,
Methinketh that it were necessary,
For to be ware of such an adversary;
Be ready for to meet him evermore:
Thus taughte me my dame; I say no more."
"By Sainte Mary," said this taverner,[212]
"The child saith sooth, for he hath slain this year
Hence over a mile, within a great village,
Both man and woman, child, and hine,[213] and page;
I trow his habitation be there:
To be avised[214] great wisdom it were,
Ere that he did a man a dishonour."
"Yea, Godes armes," quoth this riotour,
"Is it such peril with him for to meet?
I shall him seek by way and eke by street,
I make avow to Godes digne[215] bones.
Hearkeneth, fellowes, we three be all ones[216]:
Let each of us hold up his hand till other,
And each of us becomen otheres brother,
And we will slay this false traitor Death:
He shall be slain, which that so many slayeth,
By Godes dignity, ere it be night."
Together have these three hir truthes plight
To live and dien each of hem for other,
As though he were his own yboren[217] brother.
And up they start all drunken, in this rage,
And forth they go towardes that village.
Of which the taverner had spoke beforn,
And many a grisly[218] oath then have they sworn,
And Christes blessed body they to-rent;[219]
Death shall be dead,[220] if that they may him hent.[221]
When they have gone not fully half a mile,
Right as they would have trodden o'er a stile,
An old man and a poore with hem met.
This olde man full meekely hem gret,[222]
And saide thus: "Now, lordes, God you see."[223]
The proudest of these riotoures three
Answered again: "What, carl,[224] with sorry grace,
Why art thou all forwrapped[225] save thy face?
Why livest thou so long in so great age?"
This olde man gan look on his visage,
And saide thus: "For I ne cannot find
A man, though that I walked into Ind,
Neither in city, nor in no village,
That woulde change his youthe for mine age;
And therefore mote I have mine age still
As longe time as it is Godes will.
Ne death, alas! ne will not have my life;
Thus walk I like a resteless caitiff,
And on the ground, which is my mother's gate,
I knocke with my staff, both early and late,
And sayen, 'Liefe[226] mother, let me in.
Lo, how I vanish, flesh, and blood, and skin;
Alas! when shall my bones be at rest?
Mother, with you would I changen my chest,
That in my chamber longe time hath be,
Yea, for an haire clout to wrappe me.'
But yet to me she will not do that grace,
For which full pale and welked[227] is my face.
"But, sirs, to you it is no courtesy
To speaken to an old man villainy,
But[228] he trespass in word or else in deed.
In holy writ ye may yourself well read;
'Against[229] an old man, hoar upon his head,
Ye should arise:' wherefore I give you rede,[230]
Ne do unto an old man none harm now,
No more than ye would men did to you
In age, if that ye so long abide.
And God be with you, where ye go or ride;
I mote go thither as I have to go."
"Nay, olde churl, by God, thou shalt not so,"
Saide this other hazardour anon;
"Thou partest not so lightly, by Saint John.
Thou spake right now of thilke traitor Death,
That in this country all our friendes slayeth;
Have here my truth, as thou art his espy;
Tell where he is, or thou shalt it aby,[231]
By God and by the holy sacrament;
For soothly thou art one of his assent
To slay us younge folk, thou false thief."
"Now, sirs," quoth he, "if that you be so lief[232]
To finden Death, turn up this crooked way,
For in that grove I left him, by my fay,
Under a tree, and there he will abide;
Not for your boast he will him nothing hide.
See ye that oak? right there ye shall him find.
God save you, that bought again mankind,
And you amend!" thus said this olde man.
And evereach[233] of these riotoures ran,
Till he came to that tree, and there they found
Of florins fine of gold ycoined round,
Well nigh an eighte bushels, as hem thought.
No lenger then after Death they sought,
But each of hem so glad was of that sight,
For that the florins be so fair and bright,
That down they set hem by this precious hoard.
The worst of hem he spake the firste word.
"Brethren," quoth he, "take keepe[234] what I say;
My wit is great, though that I bourd[235] and play.
This treasure hath fortune unto us given
In mirth and jollity our life to liven,
And lightly as it cometh, so will we spend.
Hey! Godes precious dignity! who wend[236]
To-day, that we should have so fair a grace?
But might this gold be carried from this place
Home to mine house, or elles unto yours,
For well ye wot that all this gold is ours,
Then were we in high felicity.
But truely by day it may not be;
Men woulden say that we were thieves strong,
And for our owen treasure do us hong.[237]
This treasure must ycarried be by night
As wisely and as slily as it might.
Wherefore I rede,[238] that cut[239] among us all
Be draw, and let see where the cut will fall:
And he that hath the cut, with hearte blithe
Shall renne[240] to the town, and that full swith,[241]
And bring us bread and wine full privily;
And two of us shall keepen subtlely
This treasure well; and if he will not tarry,
When it is night, we will this treasure carry
By one assent, where as us thinketh best."
That one of hem the cut brought in his fist,
And bade hem draw and look where it will fall,
And it fell on the youngest of hem all:
And forth toward the town he went anon.
And also[242] soon as that he was agone,
That one of hem spake thus unto that other;
"Thou knowest well thou art my sworen brother;
Thy profit will I tellen thee anon.
Thou wost[243] well that our fellow is agone,
And here is gold, and that full great plenty,
That shall departed be among us three.
But natheless, if I can shape it so,
That it departed were among us two,
Had I not done a friendes turn to thee?"
That other answered, "I not[244] how that may be:
He wot how that the gold is with us tway.[245]
What shall we do? what shall we to him say?"
"Shall it be counsel?" said the firste shrew;
"And I shall tellen thee in wordes few
What we shall do, and bring it well about."
"I grante," quoth that other, "out of doubt,
That by my truth I shall thee not bewray."
"Now," quoth the first, "thou wost well we be tway,
And two of us shall strenger be than one.
Look, when that he is set, thou right anon
Arise, as though thou wouldest with him play;
And I shall rive him through the sides tway,
While that thou strugglest with him as in game,
And with thy dagger look thou do the same;
And then shall all this gold departed be,
My deare friend, betwixen me and thee:
Then may we both our lustes all fulfill,
And play at dice right at our owen will."
And thus accorded be these shrewes tway
To slay the third, as ye have heard me say.
This youngest, which that went unto the town,
Full oft in heart he rolleth up and down
The beauty of these florins new and bright.
"O Lord!" quoth he, "if so were that I might
Have all this treasure to myself alone,
There is no man that liveth under the throne
Of God, that shoulde live so merry as I."
And the last the fiend, our enemy,
Put in his thought that he should poison bey,[246]
With which he mighte slay his fellows twaye.
Forwhy[247] the fiend found him in such living,
That he had leave him to sorrow bring.
For this was utterly his full intent
To slay hem both, and never to repent.
And forth he goeth, no lenger would he tarry,
Into the town unto a 'pothecary,
And prayed him that he him woulde sell
Some poison, that he might his rattes quell,
And eke there was a polecat in his haw[248]
That, as he said, his capons had yslawe[249];
And fain he woulde wreak[250] him if he might,
On vermin, that destroyed him by night.
The 'pothecary answered, "And thou shalt have
A thing that, also[251] God my soule save,
In all this world there nis no creature,
That eaten or drunk hath of this confecture,
Naught but the mountance[252] of a corn of wheat,
That he ne shall his life anon forlete[253];
Yea, sterve[254] he shall, and that in lesse while,
Than thou wilt go a pace[255] not but a mile:
This poison is so strong and violent."
This cursed man hath in his hand yhent[256]
This poison in a box, and sith he ran
Into the nexte street unto a man,
And borrowed of him large bottles three;
And in the two his poison poured he;
The third he kept clean for his owen drink,
For all the night he shope[257] him for to swink[258]
In carrying the gold out of that place.
And when this riotour, with sorry grace,
Had filled with wine his greate bottles three,
To his fellows again repaireth he.
What needeth it to sermon of it more?
For right as they had cast his death before,
Right so they have him slain, and that anon.
And when that this was done, thus spake that one:
"Now let us sit and drink, and make us merry,
And afterward we will his body bury."
And with that word it happed him _par cas_,[259]
To take the bottle there the poison was,
And drank, and gave his fellow drink also,
For which anon they storven[260] bothe two.
But certes I suppose that Avicen
Wrote never in no canon, n' in no fen,[261]
Mo wonder signes of empoisoning,
Than had these wretches two ere hir ending.
Thus ended be these homicides two,
And eke the false empoisoner also.
[198] Guitars.
[199] Dreadful.
[200] Tear in pieces.
[201] It seemed to them.
[202] Laughed.
[203] Female dancers.
[204] Neat.
[205] Female fruit-sellers.
[206] Sellers of wafer-cakes.
[207] Long first before.
[208] Servant.
[209] Quickly.
[210] Excessively drunk.
[211] Call.
[212] Innkeeper.
[213] Peasant.
[214] Watchful.
[215] Worthy.
[216] At one.
[217] Born.
[218] Dreadful.
[219] Tear in pieces.
[220] Die.
[221] Seize.
[222] Greeted.
[223] Keep in sight, protect.
[224] Churl.
[225] Completely wrapped up.
[226] Dear.
[227] Withered.
[228] Unless.
[229] To meet.
[230] Advice.
[231] Suffer for.
[232] Desirous.
[233] Each one.
[234] Heed.
[235] Joke.
[236] Thought.
[237] Cause us to be hanged.
[238] Advise.
[239] Lot.
[240] Run.
[241] Quickly.
[242] As.
[243] Knowest.
[244] Know not.
[245] Two.
[246] Buy.
[247] Because.
[248] Farm-yard.
[249] Slain.
[250] Revenge.
[251] As.
[252] Amount.
[253] Give up.
[254] Die.
[255] At a footpace.
[256] Seized.
[257] Purposed.
[258] Labor.
[259] By chance.
[260] Died.
[261] 'Fen': the name of the sections of Avicenna's great work
entitled 'Canon.'