A vernicle 239 had he sew’d upon his cap. His wallët lay before him in his lap, Bretful 240 of pardon come from Rome all hot. A voice he had as small as hath a goat. No beard had he, nor ever one should have. As smooth it was as it were new y-shave; I trow he were a gelding or a mare. But of his craft, from Berwick unto Ware, Ne was there such another pardonere. For in his mail 241 he had a pillowbere, 242 Which, as he saidë, was our Lady’s veil: He said, he had a gobbet 243 of the sail That Saintë Peter had, when that he went Upon the sea, till Jesus Christ him hent. 244