And for to drynken strong wyn, reed as blood;
     
     Thanne wolde he speke and crie as he were wood.
     And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn,
     Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn.
     A fewe termes hadde he, two or thre,
     That he had lerned out of som decree-
     
     No wonder is, he herde it al the day,
     And eek ye knowen wel how that a jay
     Kan clepen `watte' as wel as kan the Pope.
     But who so koude in oother thyng hym grope,
     Thanne hadde he spent al his plilosophie;
     
     Ay `questio quid juris' wolde he crie.
     He was a gentil harlot and a kynde,
     A bettre felawe sholde men noght fynde;
     He wolde suffre, for a quart of wyn,
     A good felawe to have his concubyn
     
     A twelf-monthe, and excuse hym atte fulle-
     Ful prively a fynch eek koude he pulle.
     And if he foond owher a good felawe,
     He wolde techen him to have noon awe,
     In swich caas, of the erchedekeness curs,
     
     But if a mannes soule were in his purs;
     For in his purs he sholde ypunysshed be,
     `Purs is the erchedekenes helle,' seyde he.
     But wel I woot he lyed right in dede;
     Of cursyng oghte ech gilty man him drede-
     
     For curs wol slee, right as assoillyng savith-
     And also war him of a Significavit.
     In daunger hadde he at his owene gise
     The yonge girles of the diocise,
     And knew hir conseil, and was al hir reed.
      
     A gerland hadde he set upon his heed
     As greet as it were for an ale-stake;
     A bokeleer hadde he maad him of a cake.
        With hym ther rood a gentil Pardoner
     Of Rouncivale, his freend and his compeer,
     
     That streight was comen fro the court of Rome.
     Ful loude he soong `com hider, love, to me.'
     This Somonour bar to hym a stif burdoun,
     Was nevere trompe of half so greet a soun.
     This Pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex,
     
     But smothe it heeng as dooth a strike of flex;
     By ounces henge hise lokkes that he hadde,
     And therwith he hise shuldres overspradde;
     But thynne it lay by colpons oon and oon.
     But hood, for jolitee, wered he noon,
     
     For it was trussed up in his walet.
     Hym thoughte he rood al of the newe jet,
     Dischevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare.
     Swiche glarynge eyen hadde he as an hare.
     A vernycle hadde he sowed upon his cappe.
     
     His walet lay biforn hym in his lappe
     Bret-ful of pardoun come from Rome al hoot.
     A voys he hadde as smal as hath a goot,
     No berd hadde he, ne nevere sholde have,
     As smothe it was as it were late shave,
     
     I trowe he were a geldyng or a mare.
     But of his craft, fro Berwyk into Ware,
     Ne was ther swich another Pardoner;
     For in his male he hadde a pilwe-beer,
     Which that he seyde was Oure Lady veyl;
     
     He seyde, he hadde a gobet of the seyl
     That Seinte Peter hadde, whan that he wente
     Upon the see, til Jesu Crist hym hente.
     He hadde a croys of latoun, ful of stones,
     And in a glas he hadde pigges bones;
     
     But with thise relikes whan that he fond
     A povre persoun dwellyng up-on-lond,
     Upon a day he gat hym moore moneye
     Than that the person gat in monthes tweye,
     And thus with feyned flaterye and japes
     
     He made the persoun and the peple his apes.
     But trewely to tellen atte laste,
     He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste;
     Wel koude he rede a lessoun or a storie,
     But alderbest he song an offertorie,
     
     For wel he wiste, whan that song was songe
     He moste preche, and wel affile his tonge;
     To wynne silver, as he ful wel koude,
     Therfore he song the murierly and loude.
        Now have I toold you shortly in a clause
     
     Thestaat, tharray, the nombre, and eek the cause
     Why that assembled was this compaignye