Continue reading with a SparkNotes PLUS trial

Original Text

Modern Text

With him ther rood a gentil PARDONER. Of Rouncival, his freend and his compeer, That streight was comen fro the court of Rome. Ful loude he song, ‘Com hider, love, to me.’ This somnour bar to him a stif burdoun, Was never trompe of half so greet a soun. This pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex, But smothe it heng, as dooth a strike of flex; By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde, And ther-with he his shuldres overspradde; But thinne it lay, by colpons oon and oon; But hood, for Iolitee, ne wered he noon, For it was trussed up in his walet. Him thoughte, he rood al of the newe Iet; Dischevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare. Swiche glaringe eyen hadde he as an hare. A vernicle hadde he sowed on his cappe. His walet lay biforn him 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 never sholde have, As smothe it was as it were late y-shave; I trowe he were a gelding or a mare. But of his craft, fro Berwik into Ware, Ne was ther swich another pardoner. For in his male he hadde a pilwe-beer, Which that, he seyde, was our lady veyl: He seyde, he hadde a gobet of the seyl That sëynt Peter hadde, whan that he wente Upon the see, til Iesu Crist him 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 person dwelling upon lond, Upon a day he gat him more moneye Than that the person gat in monthes tweye. And thus, with feyned flaterye and Iapes, He made the person and the peple his apes. But trewely to tellen, atte laste, He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste. Wel coude 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 affyle his tonge, To winne silver, as he ful wel coude; Therefore he song so meriely and loude. With him ther rood a gentil PARDONER. Of Rouncival, his freend and his compeer, That streight was comen fro the court of Rome. Ful loude he song, ‘Com hider, love, to me.’ This somnour bar to him a stif burdoun, Was never trompe of half so greet a soun. This pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex, But smothe it heng, as dooth a strike of flex; By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde, And ther-with he his shuldres overspradde; But thinne it lay, by colpons oon and oon; But hood, for Iolitee, ne wered he noon, For it was trussed up in his walet. Him thoughte, he rood al of the newe Iet; Dischevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare. Swiche glaringe eyen hadde he as an hare. A vernicle hadde he sowed on his cappe. His walet lay biforn him 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 never sholde have, As smothe it was as it were late y-shave; I trowe he were a gelding or a mare. But of his craft, fro Berwik into Ware, Ne was ther swich another pardoner. For in his male he hadde a pilwe-beer, Which that, he seyde, was our lady veyl: He seyde, he hadde a gobet of the seyl That sëynt Peter hadde, whan that he wente Upon the see, til Iesu Crist him 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 person dwelling upon lond, Upon a day he gat him more moneye Than that the person gat in monthes tweye. And thus, with feyned flaterye and Iapes, He made the person and the peple his apes. But trewely to tellen, atte laste, He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste. Wel coude 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 affyle his tonge, To winne silver, as he ful wel coude; Therefore he song so meriely and loude.

Original Text

Modern Text

With him ther rood a gentil PARDONER. Of Rouncival, his freend and his compeer, That streight was comen fro the court of Rome. Ful loude he song, ‘Com hider, love, to me.’ This somnour bar to him a stif burdoun, Was never trompe of half so greet a soun. This pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex, But smothe it heng, as dooth a strike of flex; By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde, And ther-with he his shuldres overspradde; But thinne it lay, by colpons oon and oon; But hood, for Iolitee, ne wered he noon, For it was trussed up in his walet. Him thoughte, he rood al of the newe Iet; Dischevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare. Swiche glaringe eyen hadde he as an hare. A vernicle hadde he sowed on his cappe. His walet lay biforn him 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 never sholde have, As smothe it was as it were late y-shave; I trowe he were a gelding or a mare. But of his craft, fro Berwik into Ware, Ne was ther swich another pardoner. For in his male he hadde a pilwe-beer, Which that, he seyde, was our lady veyl: He seyde, he hadde a gobet of the seyl That sëynt Peter hadde, whan that he wente Upon the see, til Iesu Crist him 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 person dwelling upon lond, Upon a day he gat him more moneye Than that the person gat in monthes tweye. And thus, with feyned flaterye and Iapes, He made the person and the peple his apes. But trewely to tellen, atte laste, He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste. Wel coude 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 affyle his tonge, To winne silver, as he ful wel coude; Therefore he song so meriely and loude. With him ther rood a gentil PARDONER. Of Rouncival, his freend and his compeer, That streight was comen fro the court of Rome. Ful loude he song, ‘Com hider, love, to me.’ This somnour bar to him a stif burdoun, Was never trompe of half so greet a soun. This pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex, But smothe it heng, as dooth a strike of flex; By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde, And ther-with he his shuldres overspradde; But thinne it lay, by colpons oon and oon; But hood, for Iolitee, ne wered he noon, For it was trussed up in his walet. Him thoughte, he rood al of the newe Iet; Dischevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare. Swiche glaringe eyen hadde he as an hare. A vernicle hadde he sowed on his cappe. His walet lay biforn him 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 never sholde have, As smothe it was as it were late y-shave; I trowe he were a gelding or a mare. But of his craft, fro Berwik into Ware, Ne was ther swich another pardoner. For in his male he hadde a pilwe-beer, Which that, he seyde, was our lady veyl: He seyde, he hadde a gobet of the seyl That sëynt Peter hadde, whan that he wente Upon the see, til Iesu Crist him 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 person dwelling upon lond, Upon a day he gat him more moneye Than that the person gat in monthes tweye. And thus, with feyned flaterye and Iapes, He made the person and the peple his apes. But trewely to tellen, atte laste, He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste. Wel coude 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 affyle his tonge, To winne silver, as he ful wel coude; Therefore he song so meriely and loude.