said, That there was never man yet evil apaid For gold nor silver that he to me lent, Nor ever falsehood in mine heart I meant. And Sir,” quoth he, “now of my privity, Since ye so goodly have been unto me, And kithed to me so great gentleness, Somewhat, to quitë with your kindëness, I will you shew, and if you list to lear, I will you teachë plainly the mannére How I can worken in philosophý. Takë good heed, ye shall well see at eye That I will do a mas’try ere I go.” “Yea,” quoth the priest; “yea, Sir, and will ye so? Mary! thereof I pray you heartily.” “At your commandëment, Sir, truëly,” Quoth the canón, “and ellës God forbid.” Lo, how this thiefë could his service bede!
Full sooth it is that such proffér’d servíce Stinketh, as witnessë these oldë wise; And that full soon I will it verify In this canón, root of all treacherý, That evermore delight had and gladnéss (Such fiendly thoughtës in his heart impress ) How Christë’s people he may to mischief bring. God keep us from his false dissimulíng! What wistë this priest with whom that he dealt? Nor of his harm comíng he nothing felt. O sely priest, O sely innocent! With covetíse anon thou shalt be blent; O gracëless, full blind is thy conceit! For nothing art thou ware of the deceit Which that this fox y-shapen hath to thee; His wily wrenches thou not mayest flee. Wherefore, to go to the conclusión That referreth to thy confusión, Unhappy man, anon I will me hie To tellë thine unwit and thy follý, And eke the falseness of that other wretch, As farforth as that my conníng will stretch. This canon was my lord, ye wouldë ween; Sir Host, in faith, and by the heaven’s queen, It was another canon, and not he, That can an hundred fold more subtletý. He hath betrayed folkës many a time; Of his falsenéss it doleth me to rhyme. And ever, when I speak of his falsehéad, For shame of him my cheekës waxë red; Algatës they beginnë for to glow, For redness have I none, right well I know, In my visagë; for fumës divérse Of metals, which ye have me heard rehearse, Consumed have and wasted my rednéss. Now take heed of this canon’s cursedness.
“Sir,” quoth he to the priest, “let your man gon For quicksilver, that we it had anon; And let him bringen ounces two or three; And when he