Trifles :: :: University of Virginia Library

It happen'd on a certain time,
Two Seigniors, who had spent the prime
Of youth in every wickedness,
Came to his holiness to confess;
Of which, the one had riches store,
The other (wicked wretch!) was poor.
But both grown old, had now a mind
To die in peace with all mankind;
And go to heaven a nearer way
Than those who all their life-time pray:
Which may effected be they hope,
By buying pardon of the pope.
So calling fresh to mind their sins,
The rich offender thus begins.

“Most holy father, I have been,
“I must confess, in many a sin.

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“All laws divine I've thought a joke;
“All human laws for interest broke.
“And to encrease my ill-got store,
“Thought it no crime t'oppress the poor,
“To cheat the rich, betray my friends,
“Or any thing to gain my ends.
“But now grown old, and near to die,
“I do repent me heartily
“Of all my vile offences past,
“And in particular the last,
“By which I wickedly beguil'd
“A dead friend's son, my guardian child,
“Of all his dear paternal store,
“Which was ten thousand pounds or more;
“Who since is starv'd to death by want,
“And now sincerely I repent:
“Which that your holiness may see,
“One half the sum I've brought with me,
“And thus I cast it at your feet,
“Dispose of it as you think meet,
“To pious uses, or your own,
“I hope 'twill all my faults atone.

“Friend, quoth the pope, I'm glad to see
“Such true repentance wrought in thee;
“But as your sins are very great,
“You have but half repented yet:
“Nor can your pardon be obtain'd,
“Unless the whole which thus you've gain'd,
“To pious uses be ordain'd.

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“All! cry'd the man, I thought that half
“Had been a pretty price enough.

“Nay, quoth the pope, sir, if you hum
“And haw at parting with the sum,
“Go, keep it, do; and damn your soul:
“I tell you, I must have the whole.
“'Tis not a little thing procures
“A pardon for such sins as yours.
Well—rather than be doom'd to go,
To dwell with everlasting woe,
One wou'd give any thing, you know:
So th' other half was thrown down to't,
And then he soon obtain'd his suit;
A pardon for his sins was given,
And home he went assur'd of heaven.

And now the poor man bends his knee;
“Most holy father, pardon me,
“A poor and humble penitent
“Who all my substance vilely spent,
“In every wanton' youthful pleasure;
“But now I suffer out of measure;
“With dire diseases being fraught
“And eke so poor not worth a groat.

“Poor! quoth the pope, then cease your suit,
“Indeed you may as well be mute;

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“Forbear your now too late contrition,
“You're in a reprobate condition.
“What! spend your wealth, and from the whole
“Not save one souse to save your soul?
“O, you're a sinner, and a hard one,
“I wonder you can ask a pardon:
“Friend, they're not had, unless you buy 'em,
“You're therefore damn'd, as sure I am—
“Vice-gerent to the king of heaven:
“No, no, such sins can't be forgiven.
“I cannot save you if I wou'd,
“Nor would I do it if I cou'd.

Home goes the man in deep despair,
And dy'd soon after he came there;
And went, 'tis said, to hell: But sure
He was not damn'd for being poor!
But long he had not been below,
Before he saw his friend come too;
At this he was in great surprize,
And scarcely could believe his eyes:
“What, friend, said he, are you come too?
“I thought the pope had pardon'd you.
“Yes, quoth the man, I thought so too;
“But I was by the pope trapan'd—
“The devil could not read his hand.