A certain soft and refined luxuriousness seems to hang like a gossamer veil over a sentiment of genuine and vigorous chivalry, carried too far for our 19th century notions, but, like the generous mistakes of youth, none the less touching.
The moral of this striking tale points out the danger of giving even the smallest inlet to wrong dealing; since a condition apparently impossible to realize may after all work our ruin.
The Pardoner’s Tale.
Then mine host turned to the Pardoner: “Thou, pardoner, thou, my good friend,” he said—
Tel us a tale, for thou canst many oon.
It schal be doon, quod he, and that anoon.
But first, quod he, her at this ale-stake[175]
I wil bothe drynke and byten on a cake.
“Tell us a tale; thou knowest many an one.”
“I will!” he said; “it shall at once be done.
But first,” he added, “here at this ale-stake
I’ll take a drink, and have a bite of cake.”
When he had done so (for they were passing a roadside inn), he began, as you shall hear:—
There was in Flanders a company of young folk, who gave themselves up to folly and wrong-doing. They did nothing but gamble and riot, and drink wine, and dance, and swear; and their gluttony and idleness made them wicked, so that when they heard of other people committing sin they laughed and did as much wrong as ever they could.
This kind of life degrades every one. Gluttony was the first cause of our confusion: Adam and Eve were driven from Paradise for that vice. And drunkenness leads to many other sins, as is shown in Holy Writ.