|
"Graunt mercy," quod the preest, and was ful glad, |
| And couched coles as that the chanoun bad. |
| 605 | And while he bisy was, this feendly wrecche, |
| This false chanoun - the foule feend hym fecche! - |
| Out of his bosom took a bechen cole, |
| In which ful subtilly was maad an hole, |
| And therinne put was of silver lemaille |
| 610 | An ounce, and stopped was, withouten faille, |
| This hole with wex, to kepe the lemaille in. |
| And understondeth that this false gyn |
| Was nat maad ther, but it was maad bifore; |
| And othere thynges I shal tellen moore |
| 615 | Herafterward, whiche that he with hym broghte. |
| Er he cam there, hym to bigile he thoghte, |
| And so he dide, er that they wente atwynne; |
| Til he had terved hym, koude he nat blynne. |
| It dulleth me whan that I of hym speke. |
| 620 | On his falshede fayn wolde I me wreke, |
| If I wiste how, but he is heere and there; |
| He is so variaunt, be abit nowhere. |
|
|
"Thank you," the priest replied, and was right glad, |
| And heaped the coals up as the canon bade. |
| 605 | And while he laboured thus, this fiendish wretch, |
| This canon false- may the foul devil him fetch!- |
| Out of his bosom took a beechen coal, |
| Wherein right cunningly he'd bored a hole |
| In which, before, he'd put of silver limail |
| 610 | An ounce, and which he'd stopped up, without fail, |
| With blackened wax, to keep the filings in. |
| And understand you well that this false gin |
| Was not made there, but it was made before; |
| And there were other things I'll tell you more |
| 615 | About hereafter, which with him he'd brought; |
| Before he came there, to cheat he'd taken thought, |
| And before they parted he did even so; |
| Till he had skinned him he could not forgo. |
| It wearies me when of him I do speak, |
| 620 | For on his falsehood I myself would wreak, |
| If I knew how; but he is here and there; |
| He is so restless he abides nowhere. |
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