Notice the cunning yeoman’s answer:—
This yiman him answered in softe speche:
Brother, quod he, fer in the north[119] contre,
Wheras I hope somtyme I schal the se;where
Er we depart I schal the so wel wisse,separate, teach
That of myn hous ne schaltow never misse.shalt thou, miss
The yeoman answered him in softest speech:
“Brother,” quoth he, “far in the north countree,
Whereat I hope sometime I shall thee see.
Before we part I shall direct thee so,
Thou canst not fail my dwelling-place to know.”
You will see later why he was so anxious to bring the Summoner to his own dwelling.
Now, brother, quod this Sompnour, I yow prayyou
Teche me, whil that we ryden by the way,ride
Syn that ye ben a baily as am I,since, be
Som subtilte, as tel me faithfullysubtilty
In myn office how I may moste[120] wynne.my
And spare not for consciens or for synne,refrain
But, as my brother, tel me how do ye?
“Now, brother,” said the Summoner, “I pray,
Teach me while we are riding on our way,
Since you a bailiff are, as well as I,
Some subtle craft, and tell me faithfully
How in my office I most gold may win,
And hide not aught for conscience or for sin,
But as my brother, tell me how do ye?”
The strange yeoman is delighted at these questions, and you will see that in his answer he pretends to describe himself, but he is really describing all the Summoner does!
Now, by my trouthe, brothir myn, sayde he,
As I schal telle the a faithful tale.
My wages ben ful streyt and eek ful smale;narrow, small
My lord to me is hard and daungerous,severe
And myn office is ful laborous,laborious
And therfor by extorciouns[121] I lyve.
Forsoth I take al that men wil me yive,give
Algate by sleighte or by violence,always, cunning
Fro yer to yer I wynne my despence,
I can no better telle faithfully.
Now, certes, quod this Sompnour, so fare I.
I spare not to take, God it woot,knows
But-if it be to hevy or to hoot.[122]unless
What I may gete in counseil prively,get
No more consciens of that have I;conscience
Nere myn extorcions I mighte not lyven,were it not for
Ne of such japes I wil not be schriven.games, shriven
Stomak ne conscience know I noon.
I schrew thes schrifte-fadres, everichoon.curse
Wel be we met, by God and by seint Jame!
But, leve brother, telle me thy name?
Quod this Sompnour. Right[123] in this menewhile
This yeman gan a litel for to smyle.began
Brothir, quod he, woltow that I the telle?wilt thou
I am a feend, my dwellyng is in helle,
And her I ryde about my purchasyng,here
To wite wher men wol yive me eny thing.know
My purchas is theffect of all my rent.the effect
Loke how thou ridest for the same entent
To wynne good, thou rekkist never how,
Right so fare I, for ryde I wolde now
Unto the worldes ende for a praye.prey
A, quod the Sompnour, benedicite, what say ye?[124]ah
“Now, by my troth, my brother dear,” quoth he,
“I will be frank with you, and tell you all:
The wages that I get are very small,
My master’s harsh to me, and stingy too,
And hard is all the work I have to do;
And therefore by extortion do I live.
Forsooth, I take what any one will give;
Either by cunning or by violence
From year to year I snatch my year’s expense.
No better can I tell you honestly.”
“Now, truly,” cried the Summoner, “so do I!
I never spare to take a thing, God wot,
Unless it be too heavy or too hot.
What I can grasp by counsel privily,
No scruples in that matter trouble me.
Without extortion I could ne’er subsist,
So in my pranks I ever will persist;
Stomach nor conscience truly I have none.
I hate all these shrift-fathers, every one!
Well met are we, our ways are just the same.
But, my dear fellow, tell me now your name?”
The Summoner entreated him. Meanwhile
That yeoman broke into a little smile.
“Brother,” he answered, “wilt thou have me tell?
—I am a fiend, my dwelling is in hell,
And here I ride about my purchasing
To know what men will give me anything.
Such gains make up the whole of all my rent.
Look how thou journeyest for the same intent
To reap thy gains, thou carest never how!
Just so I do—for I will journey now
Unto the wide world’s end to get my prey.”
“Mercy!” the Summoner cried, “what is’t ye say?”
He is rather aghast at this awful confession, bad as he admits himself to be. He had sincerely thought it was a real yeoman; and when he says to him, with a strange and evil smile, “Shall I tell you?—I am a fiend, my dwelling is in hell,” the horrible candour strikes him dumb for a minute. He rather wishes he wasn’t his sworn brother. But he very soon gets over this, thinking of the gold and silver, and begins to talk quite friendly.
I wende ye were a yemen trewely:truly
Ye have a mannes schap as wel as I.shape
“I thought you were a yeoman, verily:
Ye have a human shape as well as I.”
“Have you then a distinct form in hell like what I see?”
“No, certainly,” says the fiend, “there we have none, but we take a form when we will.”