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 whelkes white,
Nor of the knobbes sittynge on his chekes.

– Geoffrey Chaucer

The Canterbury Tales, General Prologue. No matter how the Summoner tries, there is no ointment or treatment that will cleanse and burn the boils, pimples and knobs on his cheeks. He is as corrupted on the outside as he is on the inside.