A gentile PARDONER rode with the Summoner
Of Rouncivale, his friend and companion,
He had come straight from the court of Rome.
Loudly he sang 'Come here, love, to me!'
This Summoner sang the bass part loudly;
There was never a trumpet of half so great a sound.
This Pardoner had hair as yellow as wax,
But smooth it hung like a hank of flax;
His locks hung in small gatherings,
Spread over his shoulders;
It lay thin, in sections on and on.
For the sake of his appearance he wore no hood,
It was scrumpled up in his bag.
He thought he rode in the latest fashion;
He was dishevelled, but for his cap his head was bare.
He had switching glaring eyes, like a hare.
He had a vernicle sown onto his cap.
His bag lay before him on his lap,