Pardoner_Translation_Athomas

//669:// With hym ther rood a gentil pardoner //670:// Of rouncivale, his freend and his compeer, //671:// That streight was comen fro the court of rome. //672:// Ful loude he soong com hider, love, to me! //673:// This somonour bar to hym a stif burdoun; //674:// Was nevere trompe of half so greet a soun. //675:// This pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wex, //676:// But smothe it heeng as dooth a strike of flex; //677:// By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde, //678:// And therwith he his shuldres overspradde; //679:// But thynne it lay, by colpons oon and oon. //680:// But hood, for jolitee, wered he noon, //681:// For it was trussed up in his walet. //682:// Hym thoughte he rood al of the newe jet; //683:// Dischevelee, save his cappe, he rood al bare. //684:// Swiche glarynge eyen hadde he as an hare. //685:// A vernycle hadde he sowed upon his cappe. //686:// His walet lay biforn hym in his lappe, //687:// Bretful of pardoun, comen from rome al hoot. //688:// A voys he hadde as smal as hath a goot. //689:// No berd hadde he, ne nevere sholde have; //690:// As smothe it was as it were late shave. //691:// I trowe he were a geldyng or a mare. //692:// But of his craft, fro berwyk into ware, //693:// Ne was ther swich another pardoner //694:// For in his male he hadde a pilwe-beer, //695:// Which that he seyde was oure lady veyl:
 * With him there rode a gentle pardoner**
 * Of Rouncevale, his friend and riding mate,**
 * Who had come from the court of Rome.**
 * He loudly sang "Come hither, love, to me!"**
 * The Summoner, a bass, sang harmony;**
 * Was never a trumpet half so great a sound made.**
 * This pardoner had yellow hair that laid,**
 * Smooth as a clump of flax above his crown;**
 * With many locks in small strands hanging down,**
 * That spread to cover both his shoulders;**
 * In thin strands, one by one, on either side.**
 * No hood he wore to cover his head,**
 * For it was stuffed down in his knapsack.**
 * Thus in the latest style to ride he dared;**
 * With hair disheveled, and his hair all bared.**
 * His eyes intensly, like a rabbit's, glared.**
 * An emblem had he sewn upon his cap**
 * His knapsack sat before him in his lap,**
 * From Rome he'd come, with pardon's in his coat.**
 * A voice he had as small as a goat.**
 * No beard had he, he never did have;**
 * As smooth as if it was shaven.**
 * I think he was a eunmuch or a gay.**
 * The best of his craft throughout the land, I'd say,**
 * Nor was there such another pardoner**
 * For in his pouch he had a pillow-case**,
 * Which he said once veiled Our Lady's face:

click here to view the Pardoner Chaucer Space

click here to view the conclusion translation**