Now, goode men, God foryeve yow youre trespas,
And ware yow fro the synne of avarice!
Myn hooly pardoun may yow alle warice,
So that ye offre nobles or sterlynges,
Or elles silver broches, spoones, rynges.
Boweth youre heed under this hooly bulle!
– Geoffrey Chaucer
The Canterbury Tales, The Pardoner’s Tale. After working his oratory to frighten the life out of the pilgrims with a horror story that could vie with the best – or worst – of Edgar Allan Poe, the corrupt Pardoner moves to cash in. Give me your gold, silver, valuables and you can avoid the fate of the gluttonous, hard-drinking, gambling, lecherous scoundrels in my tale – he tells them, offering for sale his papal pardons from sin.