This cursed man hath in his hond i-hent caught or taken This poysoun in a box, and sins he ran then Into the nexte stret unto a man And borwed of him large boteles thre, And in the two his poysoun poured he: The thrid he kepede clene for his drynke, third, clean For al the night he schop him for to swynke prepared, labour In carying of the gold out of that place. And whan this riotour, with sorry grace, rioter Hath fillid with wyn his grete botels thre, To his felaws ayein repaireth he. again What nedith it therof to sermoun more? sermonize For right as they hadde cast[192] his deth bifore, arranged Right so thay han him slayn, and that anoon. have And whan this was i-doon, thus spak that oon: spake, one Now let us drynke and sitte, and make us mery, And afterwards[193] we wil his body bery. will And with that word[193] it happed him _par cas_ by chance To take the botel ther the poysoun was, wherein And drank, and yaf his felaw drink also, gave For which anon thay stervede bothe two. soon, died But certes I suppose that Avycen[194] certainly Wrot never in _canoun_, ne in non _fen_, wrote Mo wonder sorwes of empoisonyng wondrous pangs Than hadde these wrecches tuo or here endyng. Thus endid been these homicides tuo, be And eek the fals empoysoner also. also The youngest, who had gone into the town, Deep in his mind he turneth up and down The beauty of these florins, new and bright. “O Lord,” quoth he, “if any-wise I might Have all this treasure to myself alone, There is no man that dwelleth under the throne Of God, who then should live so merry as I.” And at the last the fiend, our enemy, Put in his thought that he should poison buy, With which to cause his comrades both to die. For why? the fiend found this man’s life so foul That he had power now upon his soul: For this was utterly his fix’d intent To slay them both and never to repent And forth he goes, no longer would he tarry, Into the town to an apothecary, And begged him plausibly that he would sell Him poison strong enough the rats to quell; Also, there was a polecat in his yard Which had destroy’d his capons, he averr’d, And he would gladly rid him if he might Of vermin, which destroy’d them in the night.