Wyd was his parisshe, and houses fer a-sonder,
But he ne lafte nat for reyn ne thonder,

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In siknes nor in meschief to visyte

The ferreste in his parisshe, muche and lyte,
Up-on his feet, and in his hand a staf.

This noble ensample to his sheep he yaf,

That first he wroghte, and afterward he taughte;

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By his clennesse, how that his sheep shold live.

He sette nat his benefice to hyre,

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And leet his sheep encombred in the myre,

And ran to London, un-to sëynt Poules,

To seken him a chaunterie for soules,

was large, and the houses were far apart; but neither for rain nor for thunder did he leave off visiting, when they were sick or in trouble, the furthest in his parish, the great and the lowly, going on foot, with a staff in his hand. This noble example to his sheep he gave, that first he did things and then he taught. The words he picked up in the gospel; and this figure of speech he added to it, that if gold rust, what shall iron do? For if a priest be wicked, in whom we trust, it is no wonder if an ignorant man go astray. It is a shame, too, if a priest think of it, to find a filthy shepherd and a clean sheep. A priest ought indeed to give example by his cleanness how his sheep should live. He did not leave his parish duties to be performed by a hireling, and his sheep encumbered in the mire, while he ran off to Saint Paul's in London to get an endowed position for himself, or to

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Or with a bretherhed to been withholde;
But dwelte at hoom, and kepte wel his folde,
So that the wolf ne made it nat miscarie;
He was a shepherde and no mercenarie.
And though he holy were, and vertuous,
He was to sinful man nat despitous,
Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne,
But in his teching discreet and benigne.
To drawen folk to heven by fairnesse
By good ensample, this was his bisinesse :
But it were any persone obstinat,

What so he were, of heigh or lowe estat,
Him wolde he snibben sharply for the nones.
A bettre preest I trowe that nowher noon is.
He wayted after no pompe and reverence,
Ne maked him a spyced conscience,
But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve,
He taughte, and first he folwed it himselve.

become a member of a brotherhood. But he dwelt at home, and took good care of the fold, so that the wolf never made trouble in it; he was a shepherd and not a hireling. Although he himself was holy and virtuous, he was not harsh with sinful men, nor in his speech forbidding or too dignified; but in his teaching discreet and considerate. To draw people to heaven by fair living and by good example - this was his business; but if any one was obstinate, whoever he was, of high or low estate, that one he would reprove sharply. A better priest I do not believe there is anywhere. He did not look for display or honor, and he did not work up an overscrupulous conscience; but the teaching of Christ and his twelve apostles he taught, first following it himself.

The MILLER was a stout carl, for the nones,
Ful big he was of braun, and eek of bones;
That proved wel, for over-al ther he cam,
At wrastling he wolde have alwey the ram.
He was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre,
Ther nas no dore that he nolde heve of harre,
Or breke it, at a renning, with his heed.
His berd as any sowe or fox was reed,
And ther-to brood, as though it were a spade.
Up-on the cop right of his nose he hade

A werte, and ther-on stood a tuft of heres,
Reed as the bristles of a sowes eres;
His nose-thirles blake were and wyde.
A swerd and bokeler bar he by his syde;
His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys.
He was a janglere and a goliardeys,
And that was most of sinne and harlotryes.
Wel coude he stelen corn, and tollen thryes;
And yet he hadde a thombe of gold, pardee.
A whyt cote and a blew hood wered he.

The Miller was a stout fellow, I assure you, big in muscle and in bones. That was well proved; for everywhere he went, he always won the prize in wrestling. He had a short upper arm; he was broad, a muscular fellow: there was no door that he couldn't lift off the hinges or break it by butting into it with his head. His beard was as red as a sow or fox, and besides that it was broad, like a spade. Right on the top of his nose he had a wart, and on it there was a tuft of hairs, red as the bristles of a sow's ears; his nostrils were large and black. He carried at his side a sword and buckler; his mouth was as big as a big furnace. He talked loud and told coarse jokes, mostly wicked and scurrilous. He knew how to steal grain, and take his toll thrice; and yet he had, certainly, a thumb of gold. He wore a white coat and a blue hood. He could

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A baggepype wel coude he blowe and sowne,
And therwithal he broghte us out of towne.

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 doth a strike of flex;
By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde,
And ther-with he his shuldres over-spradde;
But thinne it lay, by colpons oon and oon;
But hood, for jolitee, ne wered he noon,
For it was trussed up in his walet.
Him thoughte, he rood al of the newe jet;
Dischevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare.
Swiche glaringe eyen hadde he as an hare.

play a bagpipe well, and with its music he brought us out of town.

With the Summoner rode a gentle Pardoner from Rouncival, his friend and his comrade, who had come straight from the court of Rome. Loudly he sang, "Come hither, love, to me." The Summoner sang a good bass to him never a trumpet was half so loud. This pardoner had hair as yellow as wax, which hung smooth, like a hank of flax. In bunches his locks hung, overspreading his shoulders; but it lay in thin clusters separately. For greater comfort he wore no hood, for it was packed in his wallet. He thought he was altogether in the latest fashion. He rode with head bare, except for his cap, and with his hair hanging loose. He had glaring eyes like a hare. A veronica he had sewed

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;
But of his craft, fro Berwik unto 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 seynt Peter hadde, whan that he wente
Up-on the see, til Jesu 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 up-on lond,
Up-on a day he gat him more moneye
Than that the person got in monthes tweye.
And thus with feyned flaterye and japes,
He made the person and the peple his apes.

on his cap; and in front of him, on his lap, lay his wallet, brimful of pardons all hot from Rome. A voice he had as small as a goat. He had no beard, and was never going to have one; it was as smooth as if it had just been shaved. But in his profession there was never such another pardoner from Berwick to Ware. In his wallet he had a pillowcase, which he said was Our Lady's veil; he said he had a piece of the sail that Saint Peter had when he went on the sea, and Jesus Christ caught hold of him. He had a metal cross set full of precious stones, and in a bottle he had pig's bones. With these relics, whenever he found a poor person living in the country, in a single day he got more money than the parish priest got in two months. Thus, with flattery and tricks, he made the priest and the people his dupes.

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