Then we find enumerated a Reve, a Miller, a Sompnour (an officer in the ecclesiastical courts,) a Pardoner, a Manciple, and “myself,” that is, Chaucer.
The Miller is a brawny, short, red-headed fellow, strong, boisterous and quarrelsome, flat-nosed, wide-mouthed, debauched; he is dressed in a white coat and blue hood, and armed with sword and buckler.
His conversation and conduct correspond faithfully with such an appearance; he enlivens the journey by his skill in playing on the bagpipe.
The Manciple was an officer attached to the ancient colleges; his duty was to purchase the provisions and other commodities for the consumption of the students; in fact, he was a kind of steward. Chaucer describes this pilgrim as singularly adroit in the exercise of his business, taking good care to advantage himself the while.
Another of the most elaborately painted pictures in Chaucer’s gallery is the “Reve,” bailiff or intendant of some great proprietor’s estates. He stands before us as a slender, long-legged, choleric individual, with his beard shaven as close as possible, and his hair exceedingly short. He is a severe and watchful manager of his master’s estates, and had grown so rich that he was able to come to his lord’s assistance, and “lend him of his owen good.” His horse is described, and even named, and he is described as always riding “the hindereat of the route.”
Nothing can surpass the nature and truthfulness with which Chaucer has described the Sompnour. His face is fiery red, as cherubim were painted, and so covered with pimples, spots, and discolorations, that neither mercury, sulphur, borax, nor any purifying ointment, could cleanse his complexion. He is a great lover of onions, leeks, and garlic, and fond of “strong win as red as blood;” and when drunk he would speak nothing but Latin, a few terms of which language he had picked up from the writs and citations it was his profession to serve. He is a great taker of bribes, and will allow any man to set at naught the archdeacon’s court in the most flagrant manner “for a quart of wine.”
The last of the pilgrims is the “Pardonere,” or seller of indulgences from Rome. He is drawn to the life, singing, to the bass of his friend the Sompnour, the song of “Come hither, love, to me.” The Pardoner’s hair is “yellow as wax,” smooth and thin, lying on his shoulders: he wears no hood, “for jollité;” that is, in order to appear in the fashion. His eyes (as is often found in persons of this complexion—note Chaucer’s truth to nature) are wide and staring like those of a hare; his voice is a harsh treble, like that of a goat; and he has no beard. Chaucer then enumerates the various articles of the Pardoner’s professional budget; and certainly there never was collected a list of droller relics: he has Our Lady’s veil, a morsel of the sail of St. Paul’s ship, a glass full of “pigges bones,” and a pewter cross crammed with other objects of equal sanctity. With the aid of these and the hypocritical unction of his address, he could manage, in one day, to extract from poor and rustic people more money than the Parson (the regular pastor of the parish) could collect in two months.