From the night mare, the white Pater-noster; Where wonnest thou now, Saintë Peter’s sister?” And at the last this Hendy Nicholas Gan for to sigh full sore, and said; “Alas! Shall all time world be lost eftsoonës now?” This carpenter answér’d; “What sayest thou? What? think on God, as we do, men that swink.” This Nicholas answer’d; “Fetch me a drink; And after will I speak in privity Of certain thing that toucheth thee and me: I will tell it no other man certain.”
This carpenter went down, and came again, And brought of mighty ale a largë quart; And when that each of them had drunk his part, This Nicholas his chamber door fast shet, And down the carpentér by him he set, And saidë; “John, mine host full lief and dear, Thou shalt upon thy truthë swear me here, That to no wight thou shalt my counsel wray: For it is Christë’s counsel that I say, And if thou tell it man, thou art forlore: For this vengeance thou shalt have therefor, That if thou wrayë me, thou shalt be wood.” “Nay, Christ forbid it for his holy blood!” Quoth then this silly man; “I am no blab, Nor, though I say it, am I lief to gab. Say what thou wilt, I shall it never tell To child or wife, by him that harried Hell.”