The Sompnour’s Tale

The Sompnour in his stirrups high he stood, Upon this Friar his heartë was so wood, 2252 That like an aspen leaf he quoke 2253 for ire: “Lordings,” quoth he, “but one thing I desire; I you beseech, that of your courtesy, Since ye have heard this falsë Friar lie, As suffer me I may my talë tell. This Friar boasteth that he knoweth hell, And, God it wot, that is but little wonder, Friars and fiends be but little asunder. For, pardie, ye have often time heard tell, How that a friar ravish’d was to hell In spirit onës by a visioún, And, as an angel led him up and down, To shew him all the painës that there were, In all the place saw he not a frere; Of other folk he saw enough in woe. Unto the angel spake the friar tho; 2254 ‘Now, Sir,’ quoth he, ‘have friars such a grace, That none of them shall come into this place?’