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With hym ther was a PLOWMAN, was his brother, |
| That hadde ylad of dong ful many a fother; |
| A trewe swynkere and a good was he, |
| Lyvynge in pees and parfit charitee. |
| 535 | God loved he best with al his hoole herte |
| At alle tymes, thogh him gamed or smerte, |
| And thanne his neighebor right as hym-selve. |
| He wolde thresshe, and therto dyke and delve, |
| For Cristes sake, for every povre wight |
| 540 | Withouten hire, if it lay in his myght. |
| Hise tithes payed he ful faire and wel, |
| Bothe of his propre swynk and his catel. |
| In a tabard he rood, upon a mere. |
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With him there was a PLOWMAN, his brother, |
| That loaded many carts with dung, and many other |
| Had transported; a true worker was he, |
| Living in peace and perfect charity. |
| 535 | He loved God most, and that with his whole heart |
| At all times, whether it was easy or hard, |
| And next, his neighbour, even as himself. |
| He'd thresh and dig, and never thought of wealth, |
| For Christ's own sake, for every person poor, |
| 540 | Without payment, if his power could assure. |
| He paid his taxes, fully, when it was due, |
| Both by his toil and possessions he'd sell too. |
| In a tabard he rode upon a mare. |
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