the party would like I would tell a story about a summoner. You can
be sure it will be a gay one. No one could tell an edifying story
about such a man." The Host interrupted, "You ought to be polite, Sir
Friar. Leave the Summoner alone and get on with your story." "All is
well," said the Summoner. "Let him say what he likes; I will get my
own back presently." So the Friar began:



THE FRIAR'S TALE OF THE WICKED SUMMONER

"There was a summoner who served an archdeacon and went round the
country smelling out offences and summoning the culprits before the
court. Fines he collected and bribes, but it was on the latter that
he most grew fat. Day by day he sent his spies abroad and pounced now
on the rich, now on the poor, and, not seldom, he terrorised the
innocent and robbed them of their all----" "Stay!" cried the Host,
"this is too violent, get on with your story." "I am only telling the
truth," said the Friar. "The truth is not always courteous," returned
the other. "Well, I will go on," said the Friar. "This summoner was
one day riding to accuse a certain old widow. She was innocent, but
he meant to have a bribe from her before he let her go. As he was
riding through a green wood he saw another man dressed as a yeoman
just in front of him. When they met they greeted each other. 'Good
day,' said the summoner. 'Good day,' answered the other; 'dost thou
ride far?' 'No,' answered the summoner, 'tis but to the next town to
collect a debt due to my master.' 'Art thou then a bailiff as I am?'
'That is so,' answered the summoner; for shame prevented his owning
his true calling. 'Then we be brothers,' replied the yeoman. So they
shook hands on it, and agreed to ride together.