Thus walke I, lyk a restelees kaityf,
And on the ground, which is my moodres gate,
I knokke with my staf, bothe erly and late,
And seye "Leeve mooder, leet me in!
Lo, how I vanysshe, flessh and blood and skyn!
Allas, whan shul my bones been at reste?
Mooder, with yow wolde I chaunge my cheste
That in my chambre longe tyme hath be,
Ye, for an heyre clowt to wrappe me!"
But yet to me she wol nat do that grace,
For which ful pale and welked is my face.
– Geoffrey Chaucer
The Canterbury Tales, The Pardoner’s Tale. The mysterious Old Man in the tale is often interpreted as being Death himself or his representative. Speaking to the three rioters, he describes himself as withered and wasting away in flash, bone and skin. He wanders the earth like a restless wretch, knocking on the door of Death so he can rest his bones. But Death won’t let him in, he tells the young revelers.