and sometimes we arise With deadë bodies, in full sundry wise, And speak as reas’nably, and fair, and well, As to the Pythoness did Samuel: And yet will some men say it was not he. I do no force of your divinity. But one thing warn I thee, I will not jape, Thou wilt algatës weet how we be shape: Thou shalt hereafterward, my brother dear, Come, where thee needeth not of me to lear. For thou shalt by thine own experience Conne in a chair to rede of this senténce, Better than Virgil, while he was alive, Or Dante also. Now let us ride blive, For I will holdë company with thee, Till it be so that thou forsakë me.”
“Nay,” quoth this Sompnour, “that shall ne’er betide. I am a yeoman, that is known full wide; My trothë will I hold, as in this case; For though thou wert the devil Satanas, My trothë will I hold to thee, my brother, As I have sworn, and each of us to other, For to be truë brethren in this case, And both we go abouten our purchase. Take thou thy part, what that men will thee give, And I shall mine, thus may we bothë live. And if that any of us have more than other, Let him be true, and part it with his brother.” “I grantë,” quoth the devil, “by my fay.” And with that word they rodë forth their way, And right at th’ ent’ring of the townë’s end, To which this Sompnour shope him for to wend, They saw a cart, that charged was with hay, Which that a carter drove forth on his way. Deep was the way, for which the cartë stood: The carter smote, and cried as he were wood, “Heit Scot! heit Brok! what, spare ye for the stones? The fiend (quoth he) you fetch body and bones, As farforthly as ever ye were foal’d, So muchë woe as I have with you tholed. The devil have all, horses, and cart, and hay.” The Sompnour said, “Here shall we have a prey;” And near the fiend he drew, as nought ne were, Full privily, and rowned in his ear: “Hearken, my brother, hearken, by thy faith, Hearest thou not, how that the carter saith? Hent it anon, for he hath giv’n it thee, Both hay and cart, and eke his capels three.” “Nay,” quoth the devil, “God wot, never a deal, It is not his intent, trust thou me well; Ask him thyself, if thou not trowest me, Or ellës stint a while and thou shalt see.” The carter thwack’d his horses on the croup, And they began to drawen