Or breke it at a rennyng with his heed.
     His berd as any sowe or fox was reed,
     And therto brood, as though it were a spade.
     Upon the cop right of his nose he hade
     A werte, and thereon stood a toft of heres
      
     Reed as the brustles of a sowes eres;
     Hise nosethirles blake were and wyde.
     A swerd and bokeler bar he by his syde.
     His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys,
     He was a janglere and a goliardeys,
     
     And that was moost of synne and harlotries.
     Wel koude he stelen corn, and tollen thries,
     And yet he hadde a thombe of gold, pardee.
     A whit cote and a blew hood wered he.
     A baggepipe wel koude he blowe and sowne,
     
     And therwithal he broghte us out of towne.
        A gentil Maunciple was ther of a temple,
     Of which achatours myghte take exemple
     For to be wise in byynge of vitaille;
     For wheither that he payde or took by taille,
     
     Algate he wayted so in his achaat
     That he was ay biforn, and in good staat.
     Now is nat that of God a ful fair grace,
     That swich a lewed mannes wit shal pace
     The wisdom of an heep of lerned men?
     
     Of maistres hadde he mo than thries ten,
     That weren of lawe expert and curious,
     Of whiche ther weren a duszeyne in that hous
     Worthy to been stywardes of rente and lond
     Of any lord that is in Engelond,
     
     To maken hym lyve by his propre good,
     In honour dettelees, but if he were wood;
     Or lyve as scarsly as hym list desire,
     And able for to helpen al a shire
     In any caas that myghte falle or happe-
     
     And yet this manciple sette hir aller cappe!
        The Reve was a sclendre colerik man;
     His berd was shave as ny as ever he kan,
     His heer was by his erys ful round yshorn,
     His top was dokked lyk a preest biforn.
     
     Ful longe were his legges, and ful lene,
     Ylyk a staf, ther was no calf ysene.
     Wel koude he kepe a gerner and a bynne,
     Ther was noon auditour koude on him wynne.
     Wel wiste he, by the droghte, and by the reyn,
     
     The yeldynge of his seed and of his greyn.
     His lordes sheep, his neet, his dayerye,
     His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrye,
     Was hooly in this reves governyng
     And by his covenant yaf the rekenyng,
     
     Syn that his lord was twenty yeer of age;
     Ther koude no man brynge hym in arrerage.
     Ther nas baillif, ne hierde, nor oother hyne,
     That he ne knew his sleighte and his covyne,
     They were adrad of hym as of the deeth.
     
     His wonyng was ful faire upon an heeth,
     With grene trees shadwed was his place.
     He koude bettre than his lord purchace.
     Ful riche he was astored pryvely;
     His lord wel koude he plesen subtilly
      
     To yeve and lene hym of his owene good,
     And have a thank, and yet a cote and hook.
     In youthe he hadde lerned a good myster,
     He was a wel good wrighte, a carpenter.
     This reve sat upon a ful good stot,
     
     That was al pomely grey, and highte Scot.
     A long surcote of pers upon he hade,
     And by his syde he baar a rusty blade.
     Of Northfolk was this reve, of which I telle,
     Bisyde a toun men clepen Baldeswelle.
     
     Tukked he was, as is a frere, aboute,
     And evere he rood the hyndreste of oure route.
        A Somonour was ther with us in that place,
     That hadde a fyr-reed cherubynnes face,
     For sawcefleem he was, with eyen narwe.
     
     As hoot he was, and lecherous, as a sparwe,
     With scalled browes blake, and piled berd,
     Of his visage children were aferd.
     Ther nas quyk-silver, lytarge, ne brymstoon,
     Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon,
     
     Ne oynement, that wolde clense and byte,
     That hym myghte helpen of his wheldes white,
     Nor of the knobbes sittynge on his chekes.
     Wel loved he garleek, oynons, and eek lekes,