The pardoner stated “in churches where I preach I cultivate a haughty kind of speech And ring it out as roundly as a bell;I’ve got it all by heart, the tale I tell.I have a text, it always is the same And always has been, since I learnt the game,Old as the hills and fresher than the grass,Radix malorum est cupiditas. ( Chaucer , 170).
The pardoner stated “And thus I preach against the very vice I make my living out of—avarice. (Chaucer , 170 ).
The pardoner state“But listen, gentlemen; to bring things down To a conclusion, would you like a tale? Now as I’ve drunk a draft of corn-ripe ale, By God it stands to reason I can strike On some good story that you all will like For though I am a wholly vicious man Don’t think I can’t tell moral tales. I can! Here’s one I often preach when out for winning" ( chaucer 172)
the boy, “no need, I promise you; Two hours before you came here I was told. He was a friend of yours in days of old, And suddenly, last night, the man was slain, Upon his bench, face up, dead drunk again There came a privy thief, they call him Death, Who kills us all round here (chaucer 173)
The old man stated “Not even Death, alas, will take my life; So, like a wretched prisoner at strife Within himself, I walk alone and wait About the earth, which is my mother’s gate, Knock-knocking with my staff from night to noon And crying, ‘Mother, open to me soon! Look at me, mother, won’t you let me in?" (Chaucer 174)
the pardoner stated "once the three young rioters began To run, and reached the tree, and there they found A pile of golden florins on the ground, New-coined, eight bushels of them as they thought. No longer was it Death those fellows sought, For they were all so thrilled to see the sight, the florins were so beautiful and bright, That down they sat beside the precious pile." (Chaucer 176)