# The Tale of the Priest's Bladder ## by Jacques de Baisieux ## (French fabliau, early 14th cent.) ## Sort **10** **20** **30** **40** **50** **60** **70** **80** **90** **100** **110** **120** **130** **140** **150** **160** **170** **180** **190** **200** **210** **220** **230** **240** **250** **260** **270** **280** **290** **300** Instead of a fabliau, I shall tell you A true story, as I have heard tell, Of a priest who dwelt Near Antwerp. What he had acquired In the way of possessions was very great, For he was filled with good sense. He had not spent everything; He had taken care to save, And thus he was a rich and prosperous man. Of beef cattle, and cows, and grain He had so much that one could not count them. But Death, who spares neither Duke nor count, had summoned him with his messenger To the inevitable departure. He became dropsical; By no one was it believed That he had promise of a long life. This priest, who had a deep desire To die well and justly, Sent right away For his dean and all his friends, And put his possessions into their hands To give out and divide up When they should see that his soul Was striving to leave his body. Not jewels, cushions, pots, nor benches, Mattresses, linens, not even a tablecloth, Sheep, mutton, beef, not even his cape -- Nothing remained to him that he did not give away. And he named each person To whom he wished his things to be given. He had public, not private, Letters written and notarized On this-more I can't tell you. In short, whatever he had He gave away as best he knew how. Since he had no hope Of any relief from his illness, For his disease was severe. At this time two Jacobin friars Had set out from Antwerp to preach; They greatly desired to profit themselves By putting back on the right path any who strayed. They came directly forth on their way Until they arrived at the priest's house. They expected to be invited in there For eating, for pleasure, and for a feast, For they had been there before. But they will neither eat nor drink, For they have found the priest ill. Nevertheless, they ask him About his state and about his condition; They feel his hands, his face, His feet, and they look at his legs And carefully examine his whole body. Thus it was clear to them indeed That he could not be cured of his malady, And that surely he must die of it; It had been allowed to develop for such a long time That it is not easy to cure. "Although we should care for him," Said the one to the other, "it is too late for that. Yet, from the possessions he has amassed He should leave our house twenty pounds As a bequest for repairing our books; If we could manage that It would be pleasing to our prior And our brothers would rejoice." "You speak the truth, by God our Father, Friar Louis. Now I shall prepare My best snares, and I shall speak to him And reveal our need to him." To the priest, who was in grave danger From his illness, they said straightway, "Sir, your illness afflicts you severely, And you seem to us gravely ill. You must think of your soul; Give something from your possessions for God." Said the priest, "I cannot think That I have held back anything -- not a coat Nor even the sheets against which I rub myself. I have given all for God." "But," say the friars, "how have you Ordered your business? The Scriptures warn us That one must be careful to whom one makes gifts And be sure that they are given to the person To whom one wishes to give alms." The priest answered agreeably, "To my poor relations I have given Sheep, and cows, and calves, And to the poor of this town I have also given, by Saint Giles, Some grain that is worth more than ten pounds, So that I might be delivered From any wrongs that I have done them, Since I have made my living among them; And I have given to orphan girls And to orphaned lads and to nuns And to people with small means, And I have also left, for their daily bread, One hundred sous to the Franciscan friars." "These alms are very fine, But have you had no thought For the friars of our house?" This the two friars said to the priest. "No indeed." "How could this be? In our house there are so many good men, And we are such close neighbors to you And we live so soberly That you will not die justly If you do not leave us something of yours." The priest, completely astonished, Answered, "By the eyes of my head, I have nothing to give, neither grain nor beast, Gold nor silver, cup nor bowl." Each of the friars reproaches him And shows him by examples That he could retract one of his gifts And call it back to give to them, "We have been willing to take great pains That your soul should be set right, For in this place has been set forth -- Many times and well -- our teaching; And the alms are especially good Which are given to our house. We do not wear fine shirts, And we live on poor food. God knows, as to the value Of your money, we say nothing." The priest hears this and is enraged by it, And he thinks that he will be avenged for it If he can, and that he will trick them; They are going to suffer for pressing him so closely. Then he answers the friars, "I have decided that I should give you A jewel that I have always loved very much And love still. By Saint Peter, I have nothing nearly so valuable. I would not take a thousand marks of silver for it, And, if I were in good health, I would not let another have it For two hundred marks. God directed you here; Bring your prior to me, And I shall tell you about it Before my life fails me." The friars, without sadness or wrath, Answer, "God bless you for this! When do you want us to return And bring our prior?" "Tomorrow, if it pleases God I am here, You shall take your bequest, Although I shall be greatly troubled." Straightway the friars were On their way; to Antwerp they came And called together their chapter. Each told what befell, But they had no concern for making a long tale, But shouted out in the assembly, "Bring forth a good feast! We have gained two hundred pounds From a priest whom we know, Ill in a small village." Friar Nicholas and Friar Giles, Friar William and Friar Ansel, Came to hear this news, Which very greatly pleased them. They ordered huge fishes, Old wine and new, custards and pastries. This great feast was quickly brought forth; Each thinks himself well at ease; They do not drink cheap wine; With drinking and eating they are well entertained, And they kiss their cups for the priest Who promised them the jewel. When they had poured in their heads This good wine, they made a great festival: They rang their bells resoundingly As if for the relics of a saint. There was not a neighbor who did not bless himself And wonder whom the feast honored. They came racing to the preachers To see the great marvel. None of the friars could keep From acting in a disorderly way, For each of them had befuddled his head With good wine and with their food. By their bizarre looks And their postures and their manners They seemed indeed to be out of their minds; All who saw it wondered at it. Then Friar Louis draws himself up To ask exactly how They could best Obtain their bequest from the priest. "Tomorrow, before Mass is sung, It will be well to be on our way." Each says, "As Jesus may save me, Before Death seizes him, We must have knowledge of our gift, Of how one gets the thing. We will have a great alms-gift there, But one must take great trouble for it. Friar Louis, whom do you want To take with you? Tell us now!" "Friar William, the hermit, Will go there, and Friar Nicholas, For they know how to speak well, And also Friar Robert will come, For there is no wiser convert here, And he will carry our breviary. We need not bother with our prior." Thus the business is settled. The next day they were on their way Straight to the priest's house. They did not worry about being early, But, before the day had ended, They wished they had stayed In their house at Antwerp. Straightway they greeted The priest and saluted him in God's name; Then they asked if he felt any change, Any easing of his illness. The priest very politely Said, "You are indeed welcome; I have not forgotten The gift that I promised you, For indeed I am still so inclined; Have the town councillors come And the mayor, so that in the future There will be no trouble for you. In their presence I shall gladly Do this for you, And I shall name this thing to you And I shall tell you where it is." While the priest was yet speaking, Friar Robert so busied himself That he brought the mayor And all the councillors as well. The four friars, as I have heard, Nobly greeted them. The priest, who was very clever, Then straightway spoke out And said to them exactly thus, "My lords, you are my friends; By God, now listen to me: Friar Louis and Friar Simon Came to me yesterday to give a sermon That they might bring me back to health, But God in His providence had planted In me a disease so severe -- That it is clear I will never recover from it. They came and looked at me, And then they asked me If I had thought of my soul And I said to them, by our Lady, That I had given away everything. They asked if I had provided Any gift for their house, And I said no; as God may save me, I had not thought of it, And now they had come too late. I had nothing more to give. 'No?' they said, 'You are going Too far astray; you will die in a state of sin If you persist in this intent And do not give us something of your goods.' And I, by the holy Our Father, Did not wish to die in a state of sin. I therefore considered this for so long That I thought of a thing That I have locked in my possession That I greatly love and hold very dear, But I grant it to them in such a manner That they will not have it as long as I live, For I have never given it Into anyone's keeping save my own Know you that I deeply love it And will love it all my life; Without covetousness or envy I give it to them in your presence, And let no one raise any dispute about it." The four friars say to the priest, "Good father, tell us what this thing is!" "Indeed, I will; it is my bladder. If you see that it is well cleaned, It will be better than leather And last you much longer. You can put your pepper in it." "Have you brought us here To fool us, false stubborn priest? You intended to shame us, But you will never profit from this, by St. Obert, Though you now consider us fools." "But you considered me a beast When you wanted me to take back The gifts that I had given. Indeed, you made my blood boil When you wanted me to recall them. Indeed, I told you that I had Neither pot nor pail nor anything to give; But you wanted to convince me That the alms would be better bestowed on you Than in any place I would have given them, Because you are the best of all." The Jacobins hang their heads, And then turned themselves back Toward their house with sorry faces; And all those who lived around there Nearly fainted from laughing At the trick of the bladder Which the priest had so praised To the Jacobins, who drank on it, And feasted, and received for it Rations of wine and fish. Jacques de Baisieux, in truth, Translated this from Flemish into French Because he so enjoyed the trick. From Larry D. Benson and Theodore M. Andersson, *The Literary Context of Chaucer's Fabliaux.* Indianapolis and New York, 1971. Pp. 354-59.