His friend was the Pardoner--just arrived from the court of Rome
with his wallet packed full of pardons and relics. You shall hear
what he did with these later. He had long straight oily yellow hair,
spread thinly around his shoulders. He had packed his hood in his
wallet, for it seemed more festive to him to ride bare-headed. His
eyes shone like a hare's. He had no beard, and his small, piping,
goat-like voice made him seem very youthful.

He was said to be a very successful Pardoner; for he could not only
read and sing delightfully (especially when asking for the
offertory), but his manner was so persuasive that in one day he
could win more silver than the parson earned in two or three months.
A fine Pardoner, this! No wonder he sang so merrily and loud!

A poor Parish Priest was there also. He was too occupied in holy
works, in teaching and diligently tending the sick to have time to
hunt for high positions in London. To him, all that mattered was that
his parishioners should know the true Gospel, and never, for rain,
thunder, sickness, nor danger did he to visit his people, scattered
as they were over the wide country-side. Often he gave them of his
own poor substance, for he was the true shepherd who gives all for
his sheep. A better priest, I warrant, could nowhere be found. He
taught Christ's lore, but first he followed it himself that his
followers might find an example in him, and learn by his practices,
as well as by his words.

This Priest had brought his brother, a strong good-hearted
Ploughman. He too was a true Christian. Many a time had he dug and
threshed for a poor widow to help her pay her rent, and would take