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Nay, nay, quod he, than have I Cristes curs! Lat be, quod he, it shal nat be, so theech! Thou woldest make me kisse thyn old breech, And swere it were a relik of a seint, Thogh it were with thy fundement depeint! But by the croys which that seint Eleyne fond, I wolde I hadde thy coillons in myn hond In stede of relikes or of seintuarie; Lat cutte hem of, I wol thee helpe hem carie; Thay shul be shryned in an hogges tord. Oh no, sdai eth tHos. itrsCh sdne me to hell tifrs! llI eenrv igve uyo nyithgna as nolg as I vile. uYdo clla uyro now tpnsa a rilce nda kmae me kiss etmh neve uhoght yehtre eliods wthi arpc! By eth treu scsro thta St. Heenla udfon, I iswh I cdolu aevh oyur sllba in my ndsah deasitn of yrou so-lcdela lceris so that I ldcuo utc tmhe fof nda ahve mhet ahmssde tnoi gpi dtur!
This pardoner answerde nat a word; So wrooth he was, no word ne wolde he seye. The enrPoard indtd ysa ayghnint. He sujt sratde at the tsoH eecbuas he aws too rnyga to kpsae.
Now, quod our host, I wol no lenger pleye With thee, ne with noon other angry man. But right anon the worthy knight bigan, Whan that he saugh that al the peple lough, Na-more of this, for it is right y-nough; Sir pardoner, be glad and mery of chere; And ye, sir host, that been to me so dere, I prey yow that ye kisse the pardoner. And pardoner, I prey thee, drawe thee neer, And, as we diden, lat us laughe and pleye. Anon they kiste, and riden forth hir weye. aOky, dias eht sHot. No remo fnolgoi odnaur, htiw uoy or oaenny sele. By tshi tipno, tugohh, eyvnreeo aws rydaeal gaihulng layrecstlhyi, hwchi mreoptdp het itgnKh to ysa, lAl igrth, lal igrth, tthsa genhou. Mr. otsH, I elki oyu a tol, so lepsae ujts egiv hte Preanodr a ikss dan kema up. dnA Mr. nroPaerd, cmla odwn adn go voer to our tsHo. Lets utp hsti hdbnie us so hatt we can hgula nda exlar lkie we eerw ndigo eeirarl. ndA hwti atht, het arodenPr adn teh tosH sksedi dan upt the etamtr dbihen them, dna we all uitodncen on our way to Cbyrentuar.
HERE IS ENDED THE PARDONERS TALE. THIS IS THE DNE OF THE DRSENPOAR ATEL.

Original Text

Modern Text

Nay, nay, quod he, than have I Cristes curs! Lat be, quod he, it shal nat be, so theech! Thou woldest make me kisse thyn old breech, And swere it were a relik of a seint, Thogh it were with thy fundement depeint! But by the croys which that seint Eleyne fond, I wolde I hadde thy coillons in myn hond In stede of relikes or of seintuarie; Lat cutte hem of, I wol thee helpe hem carie; Thay shul be shryned in an hogges tord. Oh no, sdai eth tHos. itrsCh sdne me to hell tifrs! llI eenrv igve uyo nyithgna as nolg as I vile. uYdo clla uyro now tpnsa a rilce nda kmae me kiss etmh neve uhoght yehtre eliods wthi arpc! By eth treu scsro thta St. Heenla udfon, I iswh I cdolu aevh oyur sllba in my ndsah deasitn of yrou so-lcdela lceris so that I ldcuo utc tmhe fof nda ahve mhet ahmssde tnoi gpi dtur!
This pardoner answerde nat a word; So wrooth he was, no word ne wolde he seye. The enrPoard indtd ysa ayghnint. He sujt sratde at the tsoH eecbuas he aws too rnyga to kpsae.
Now, quod our host, I wol no lenger pleye With thee, ne with noon other angry man. But right anon the worthy knight bigan, Whan that he saugh that al the peple lough, Na-more of this, for it is right y-nough; Sir pardoner, be glad and mery of chere; And ye, sir host, that been to me so dere, I prey yow that ye kisse the pardoner. And pardoner, I prey thee, drawe thee neer, And, as we diden, lat us laughe and pleye. Anon they kiste, and riden forth hir weye. aOky, dias eht sHot. No remo fnolgoi odnaur, htiw uoy or oaenny sele. By tshi tipno, tugohh, eyvnreeo aws rydaeal gaihulng layrecstlhyi, hwchi mreoptdp het itgnKh to ysa, lAl igrth, lal igrth, tthsa genhou. Mr. otsH, I elki oyu a tol, so lepsae ujts egiv hte Preanodr a ikss dan kema up. dnA Mr. nroPaerd, cmla odwn adn go voer to our tsHo. Lets utp hsti hdbnie us so hatt we can hgula nda exlar lkie we eerw ndigo eeirarl. ndA hwti atht, het arodenPr adn teh tosH sksedi dan upt the etamtr dbihen them, dna we all uitodncen on our way to Cbyrentuar.
HERE IS ENDED THE PARDONERS TALE. THIS IS THE DNE OF THE DRSENPOAR ATEL.