And that was most of sinne, and harlotries.
Wel coude he stelen corne, and tollen thries.
And yet he had a thomb of gold parde2.
A white cote and a blew hode wered he.
A baggèpipe wel coude he blowe and soune,
And therwithall he brought us out of toune.
A gentil Manciple3 was ther of a temple,
Of which achatours mighten take ensemple
For to ben wise in bying of vitaille.
For whether that he paide, or toke by taille,
Algate he waited so in his achate 5,
That he was ay before in good estate.
Now is not that of God a ful fayre grace,
That swiche a lewèd mannès wit shal pace
The wisdom of an hepe of lered men?
Of maisters had he mo than thriès ten,
That were of lawe expert and curious:
Of which ther was a dosein in that hous,
Worthy to ben stewardes of rent and lond
Of any lord that is in Englelond,
To maken him live by his propre good,
In honour detteles, but if he were wood,
Or live as scarsly, as him list desire;
And able for to helpen all a shire
In any cas that mighte fallen or happe:
And yet this manciple sette hir aller cappe7.
1 2 He was as honest as other millers, though he had, according
to the proverb, like every miller, a thumb of gold.
3 Vide note 3 on the preceding page. 4 Purchasers.
6 Free from debt.. 7 Made a fool of them all.
The Revè was a slendre colerike man,
His berd was shave as neighe as ever he can.
His here was by his erès round yshorne.
His top was docked like a preest beforne.
Ful longè were his leggès, and ful lene,
Ylike a staff, ther was no calf ysene.
Wel coude he kepe a garner and a binne:
Ther was non auditour coude on him winne.
Wel wiste he by the drought, and by the rain,
The yelding of his seed, and of his grain.
His lordès shepe, his nete, and his deirie,
His swine, his hors, his store, and his pultrie,
Were holly in this revès3 governing,
And by his covenant yave he rekening,
Sin that his lord was twenty yere of age;
Ther coude no man bring him in arerage.
Ther n'as baillif, ne herde, ne other hine,
That he ne knew his sleight and his covine*:
They were adradde of him, as of the deth.
His wonning was ful fayre upon an heth,
With grenè trees yshadewed was his place.
He coude better than his lord pourchace.
Ful riche he was ystored privily.
His lord wel coude he plesen subtilly,
To
yeve
and lene him of his owen good,
And have a thank, and yet a cote and hood.
In youthe he lerned hadde a good mistere'.
He was a wel good wright, a carpentere.
2 Cows.
5 Trade, occupation.
This revè sate upon a right good stot1,
That was all pomelee grey, and hightè Scot.
A long surcote of perse upon he hade,
And by his side he bare a rusty blade.
Of Norfolk was this reve, of which I tell,
Beside a toun, men clepen Baldeswell.
Tucked he was, as is a frere, aboute,
And ever he rode the hinderest of the route.
A Sompnour was ther with us in that place,
That had a fire-red cherubinnès3 face,
For sausèfleme1 he was, with eyen narwe".
As hote he was, and likerous as a sparwe,
With scalled browès blake, and pilled berd:
Of his visage children were sore aferd.
Ther n'as quiksilver, litarge, ne brimston,
Boras, ceruse, ne oile of tartre non,
Ne oinèment that woldè clense or bite,
That him might helpen of his whelkès white,
Ne of the knobbès sitting on his chekes.
Wel loved he garlike, onions, and lekes,
And for to drinke strong win as rede as blood.
Than wolde he speke, and crie as he were wood.
And whan that he wel dronken had the win,
Than wold he speken no word but Latin.
A fewè termès coude he, two or three,
That he had lerned out of som decree;
No wonder is, he herd it all the day.
And eke ye knowen wel, how that a jay
2 Dappled. 3 Cherub's face.
1 Horse, beast. 4 Red pimpled face.
Can clepen watte, as wel as can the pope.
But who so wolde in other thing him grope,
Than hadde he spent all his philosophie,
Ay, Questio quid juris, wolde he crie.
He was a gentil harlot1 and a kind;
A better felaw shulde a man not find.
He wolde suffre for a quart of wine,
A good felàw to have his concubine
A twelve month, and excuse him at the full.
Ful prively a finch eke coude he pull.
And if he found owhere a good felàwe,
He wolde techen him to have non awe
In swiche a cas of the archedekenes curse;
But if a mannès soule were in his purse;
For in his purse he shulde ypunished be.
Purse is the archèdekens helle, said he.
But wel I wote, he lied right in dede:
Of cursing ought eche gilty man him drede.
For curse wol sle right as assoiling saveth,
And also ware him of a significavit.
In danger hadde he at his owen gise
The yongè girlès of the diocise,
And knew hir conseil, and was of hir rede2.
A gerlond hadde he sette upon his hede,
As gret as it were for an alèstake3:
A bokeler hadde he made him of a cake.
1 The name harlot was anciently given to men as well as women,
and without any bad signification.
With him ther rode a gentil Pardonere1
Of Rouncevall, his frend and his compere,
That streit was comen from the court of Rome.
Ful loude he sang, Come hither, love, to me.
This sompnour bare to him a stiff burdoun3,
Was never trompe of half so gret a soun.
This pardoner had here as yelwe as wax,
But smoth it heng, as doth a strike of flax:
By unces heng his lokkès that he hadde,
And therwith he his shulders overspradde.
Ful thinne it lay, by culpons on and on,
But hode, for jolite, ne wered he non,
For it was trussed up in his wallet.
Him thought he rode al of the newè get,
Dishevele, sauf his cappe, he rode all bare.
Swiche glaring eyen hadde he, as an hare.
A vernicle hadde he sewed upon his cappe.
His wallet lay beforne him in his lappe,
Bret-ful of pardon come from Rome al hote.
A vois he hadde, as smale as hath a gote.
No berd hadde he, ne never non shulde have,
As smothe it was as it were newè shave;
I trowe he were a gelding or a mare.
But of his craft, fro Berwike unto Ware,
Ne was ther swiche an other pardonere.
For in his male he hadde a pilwebere,
"Supposed by Stevens to be Runceval Hall, in Oxford.
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