Evidence often crops up from a variety of sources concerning the relations between the nuns and this important official. That these might be very pleasant can well be imagined. Sometimes a bailiff of substance and standing will place his daughter in the nunnery which he serves[408]; sometimes when he dies he will remember it in his will[409]. But all bailiffs were not good and faithful servants. Mr Hamilton Thompson considers that male stewards and bailiffs were often "responsible for the financial straits to which the nunneries of the fifteenth century were reduced, and ... certainly did much to waste the goods of the monasteries, generally in their own interests"[410]. Such a man was Chaucer's Reeve, though he did not waste land, for the reason that one does not kill the goose that lays the golden eggs: His lordes sheep, his neet, his dayerye, His swyn, his hors, his stoor and his pultrye, Was hoolly in this reves governing, And by his covenaunt yaf the rekening.... His woning was ful fair upon an heeth, With grene trees shadwed was his place. He coude bettre than his lord purchace. Ful riche he was astored prively, His lord wel coude he plesen subtilly, To yeve and lene him of his owne good, And have a thank, and yet a cote and hood[411]. Several records of law-suits are extant, in which prioresses are obliged to sue their bailiffs in the court of King's Bench for an account of their periods of service[412], and visitation documents sometimes give a sorry picture of the convent bailiff. The bailiff of Godstow (1432) went about saying that there was no good woman in the nunnery[413]; the bailiff of Legbourne (1440) persuaded the prioress to sell him a corrody in the house and yet he "is not reckoned profitable to the house in that office, for several of his kinsfolk are serving folk in the house, who look out for themselves more than for the house"[414]; the bailiff of Redlingfield (1427) was the prioress's lover[415].