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Chaucer’s
General Prologue to The Canterbury Tales
European Humanities
Fall 2011
Chaucer’s
Pilgrims and The Late Medieval World (c. 1397)
Here is the
essay question:
How does
Chaucer’s portrait of English society at the end of the 14th century
reveal changes for good and evil overtaking Medieval Europe as it
enters the Renaissance?
Group One:
The Knight, The
Squier, and The Yeoman
Group Two:
The Prioresse, The Monk, and The
Friar
Group Three:
The Merchant, The
Clerk, The Sergeant at Law,
The Franklin, The Shipman, The
Doctor of Physik, The Wife of
Bath,
Group Four:
The Parson and The Ploughman
Group Five:
The Miller, The
Maunciple, The
Reeve, The
Summoner, The
Pardoner
The Proem
Amor v. Amor
Dei
Chaucer
describes the impregnation of March by April’s sweet showers and the
subsequent birth of virtue.
He inverts
traditional Church teaching about the nature of Earthly Love and Divine
Love. Augustine’s formulation of Original Sin had deemed the earthly
realm to be corrupt and utterly separate from the transcendent City of
God.
Chaucer
suggests that God’s heaven can be found on Earth: in Love. The most
perfect expression of God’s love may be in earthly happiness,
particularly the passionate love between man and woman best expressed
in Holy Matrimony. Chaucer’s God is immanent. Chaucer’s God gives us
permission to enjoy life and to revel in our humanity.
However, Chaucer is not
suggesting that all human behavior inspired by Spring is Holy. Rather,
the impulse itself is holy- although it can be perverted by man.
So our task in reading The Canterbury Tales is to use our own
critical imagination to play God: we must determine which of the
pilgrims will make it into heaven and which will not. And our job is
not made easy by Chaucer: he has upset the dogmatic judgments of the
Church; instead, we must use our own imagination and determine if the
pilgrim is misusing the gifts God has given them or is he or she being
true to oneself and thus natural and holy.
Group One:
The Nobility
The Knight
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A KNYGHT ther was, and that a worthy
man,
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That fro the tyme that he first bigan
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45
To
riden out, he loved chivalrie,
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Trouthe
and honour, fredom and curteisie.
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Ful
worthy was he in his lordes werre,
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And therto hadde he riden, no man ferre,
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As wel in cristendom as in hethenesse,
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50
And evere honoured for his worthynesse.
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At Alisaundre he was, whan it was wonne.
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Ful
ofte tyme he hadde the bord bigonne
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Aboven alle nacions in Pruce;
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In Lettow
hadde he reysed, and in Ruce,
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55
No Cristen man so ofte of his degree.
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In Gernade at the seege
eek hadde he be
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Of Algezir, and riden in Belmarye.
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At Lyeys was he and at Satalye,
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Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete
See
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60
At many a noble armee
hadde he be.
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At mortal batailles
hadde he been fiftene,
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And foughten for oure feith at Tramyssene
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In lystes thries, and ay
slayn his foo.
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This ilke
worthy knyght hadde been also
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65
Somtyme with the lord of Palatye
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Agayn another hethen in Turkye.
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And everemoore he hadde a sovereyn prys;
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And though that he were worthy, he was wys,
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And of his port
as meeke as is a mayde.
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70
He nevere yet no vileynye
ne sayde
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In al his lyf
unto no maner wight.
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He was a verray,
parfit gentil
knyght.
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But, for to tellen yow of his array,
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His hors were goode, but he was nat gay.
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75
Of fustian he wered a gypon
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Al bismotered with his habergeoun,
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For he was late ycome from his viage,
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And wente for to doon his pilgrymage.
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The Knight
How has
Chaucer brought this idealized portrait of a type to full life?
Is Chaucer
sad that the Knight's days are drawing to a close, or might he be
secretly happy?
‘he loved
chivalrie, trouthe, honour, fredom and courtesie’ (l.45)
"He was a
verray, parfit gentil knyght." (l.72)
A Crusader:
The Knight
is an exceptional warrior: a killer who has trained in fighting in
armor, with horses, lances, swords and shields. He has fought in
fifteen ‘mortal battailles’, an extraordinary number, against infidels
(ie Islam) on the Northern, Southern and Eastern borders of
Christendom. He has been at Alexandria, Prussia, Lithuania and in
Russia, in Grenada at the siege of Algeciras, in Morocco at Ayash and
at Atalia, and in the Grete Sea, and atTlemcen and against the heathen
in Turkey.
The
Crusades: Wars to hold back the Islamic hordes, and hopefully, to
spread Christianity… but also to maintain peace at home by sending
armed threats overseas.
He has been
in ‘lystes thries’: formal duels in which champions of opposing armies
fought to the death in lieu of a full scale battle.
The Knight
is a superman!
Humility:
‘no vileynye ne sayde/ in al his
lyf unto no maner wight.’(70)
He treats
all members of society with respect, even those from classes beneath
his own. “Villain”: fighting words.
Chaucer's
special touch: The Knight's Costume: his horses are of high quality,
but he wears a ‘bismotered habergeon’: a spotted, grimy, possibly even
bloody coat of mail- indicating that he has only lately returned from
his most recent battles. He cares more for his horses than he does for
his appearance. He has gone immediately on pilgrimage after battle to
give thanks for the preservation of his life and to purge his sins.
Code of
Chivalry:
The Church
needs a defender of the Faith. They wanted to justify the war so they
created a chivalric code: an ideal that justifies violence against the
infidel: prowess at arms, courage, honesty.
loyalty,
generosity, faith, courtesy.
The Knight
subscribes to a moral, religious and social code of conduct which
emphasized duty to country, to God, and to the service of a lady. The
story he tells his fellow pilgrims is about two best friends who both
fall in love with the same lady (who is married).
Courtly
Love:
Unrequited
Love Sublimated into Violence. In feudal society, wealth was based on
land, and land was primarily transferred through marriage. Therefore,
most upper class marriages were arranged. They were not based on love.
The Cult of Courtly Love glorified love OUTSIDE of marriage as more
virtuous than a married relationship without love. Is Chaucer really
celebrating Courtly Love?
Ironically,
the code of chivalry developed from Arab origins!
Medieval Spain was the "cradle of chivalry", for the
European fostering of chivalric tradition began in al-Andalus.
(Wikipedia)
Chaucer’s
Knight exemplifies the ideals of chivalry, but he does so in a
realistic way. He is no knight in shining armor but a real, living
breathing person with the qualities of humility, faith, and courage
that make him fit to be a king, the leader of Medieval society.
vs. Sir
Galahad's Grail Quest, Sir Lancelot's love for Queen Guinevere , or Sir
Tristan's love for Iseult
Problems:
To what
degree does the Knight help hold in place a social system which is
fundamentally unjust? The idealization of his character may not conform
to the real social practice which held 97% of the population in
serfdom, condemned to short, impoverished existences.
The Squier
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With hym ther was his sone, a yong SQUIER,
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80
A lovyere and a lusty
bacheler;
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With lokkes crulle, as they were leyd in
presse.
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Of twenty yeer
of age he was, I gesse.
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Of his stature he was of evene lengthe,
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And wonderly delyvere,
and of greet strengthe.
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85
And he hadde been somtyme in chyvachie
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In Flaundres, in Artoys, and Pycardie,
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And born hym weel,
as of so litel space,
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In hope to stonden in his lady grace.
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Embrouded
was he, as it were a meede,
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90
Al ful of fresshe floures, whyte and reede;
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Syngynge
he was, or floytynge, al the day,
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He was as fressh as is the monthe of May.
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Short was his gowne, with sleves longe and
wyde.
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Wel koude
he sitte on hors, and faire ryde.
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95
He koude
songes make, and wel endite,
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Juste, and eek
daunce, and weel purtreye
and write.
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So hoote
he lovede, that by nyghtertale
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He slepte namoore than dooth
a nyghtyngale.
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Curteis he was, lowely,
and servysable,
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100
And carf biforn his fader at the table.
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The Squier
How did the chivalric tradition transform the conception of Romantic
Love? How has Chaucer taken the stereotype of the medieval troubadour
and brought him to full life?
‘a lovyere
and lusty bacheler’ (80)
A Troubadour Bachelor:
troubadour:
One of a
class of lyric poets, wandering minstrels and jongleurs, who lived from the 11th to the
13th centuries and helped invent the notion of romantic love.
bachelor:
A bachelor
in Chaucer’s time referred to not only an unmarried man, but a young
man who has worked his way up to the first degree of knighthood… To
move up this ladder, he must do grace to a lady faire by distinguishing
himself in battle. He has ‘born hym weel’ in a calvalry expedition
against the French in Flanders (100 Years War) ‘in hope to stonden in
his lady grace’
The
Squier's Costume:
an expensive
embroidered tunic; his hair is worn in ‘lokkes crulle’. He is the
height of fashion, youth and gaiety. He is a singer, a poet, a dancer
and a troubadour. He loves to play the flute, and he is irresistable to
the ladies!
So hoote he
lovede, that by nyghtertale
He slepte namoore than dooth a nyghtyngale.
Curteis he was, lowely, and servysable,
And carf biforn his fader at the table. (l. 97-100)
The most
perfect expression of God’s Love is the love between a man and a woman
in marriage. This Squire goes off at night to sing for his girl. He
loves her passionately. He hopes that his songs, his poetry, his looks,
his dress and his tales of valor in France will win her to be his wife.
Marriage for
LOVE, not MONEY or LAND
His desire
for love could easily be corrupted into an appetite for sensual
gratification. Chaucer's Special Touch is that the Squier honors his
father by carving before him at the table. Does this detail indicate to
you that the Squier has enough respect for doing the right thing that
he will fulfill Chaucer's model of the lover in a healthy way?
The
Trouvčres and the Troubadours
Popular
music, usually in the form of secular songs, existed during the Middle
Ages. This music was not bound by the traditions of the Church, nor was
it even written down for the first time until sometime after the tenth
century. The
subject of the overwhelming majority of these songs is love, in all its
permutations of joy and pain. One of the most famous of these trouvčres
known to us (the great bulk of these melodies are by the ubiquitous
"Anonymous") is Adam de la Halle (ca. 1237-ca. 1286). Adam is the
composer of one of the oldest secular music theater pieces known in the
West, Jeu de Robin et de Marion (1284)
The Yeoman
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A YEMAN
hadde he and servantz namo
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At that tyme, for hym
liste ride soo;
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And he was clad
in cote and hood of grene.
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A sheef of pecok arwes,
bright and kene
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105
Under his belt he bar ful
thriftily,
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(Wel koude
he dresse his takel yemanly:
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Hise arwes drouped noght with fetheres lowe)
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And in his hand he baar
a myghty bowe.
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A not
heed hadde he, with a broun visage,
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110
Of woodecraft wel koude
he al the usage.
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Upon his arm he baar
a gay
bracer,
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And by his syde a swerd
and a bokeler,
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And on that oother
syde a gay daggere
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Harneised
wel and sharpe as point of spere.
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115
A Cristopher on his brest of silver sheene.
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An horn he bar, the bawdryk was of grene;
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A forster
was he, soothly, as I gesse.
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The Yeoman
'A
Cristopher on his brest of silver sheene.’ (115)
Traveling by
road during the Middle Ages was dangerous. Highwaymen and thieves
waylaid unprotected travelers, so a party of armed men accompanied most
nobles. The Knight travels with only one servant: no ostentatious show,
just what is necessary. And he has no reason to fear: he has a killing
machine at his side.
The knight's
sidekick is a yeoman, a free born servant, not a serf tied to the land.
The yeoman is armed to the teeth: he carries a longbow, a sheaf of
arrows, a sword and buckler, and a dagger and horn.
The 100
Years War
This man has
fought beside the Knight in all his battles, and he shares in the
Knight's glory. He carries the English longbow, a weapon which changed
the strategy of warfare during the 100 Year War. (A series of wars
between England and France fought over claims to French territory by
the descendants of William the Conqueror. The famous Battle of Crécy
was a complete disaster for the French, largely due to English
longbowmen.)
Stories told
about the great heroes of the fighting in the 100 Year War became
legend for both the English and the French. The exploits of the Black
Prince and later of Henry V served later leaders who used their
popularity as a foundation for English nationalism. The French as well
turned the story of Joan of Arc into a founding myth of their own nation state.
This yeoman,
though, may be weary of battle, yearning to return to his life as a
forester and hunter: he wears a St. Christopher medal, which protects
travelers from sudden death. The detail humanizes Chaucer's portrait of
this killing machine. Here is a soldier who longs for home, the woods,
where his talents can be put to their best use, as a hunter and
craftsman.
Group Two:
The Clergy
The Prioresse
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Ther was also a Nonne, a PRIORESSE,
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That of hir smylyng was ful
symple and coy;
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120
Hir gretteste ooth
was but by Seinte Loy;
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And she was cleped
Madame Eglentyne.
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Ful
weel she soong
the service dyvyne,
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Entuned
in hir nose ful semely,
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And Frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly,
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125
After the scole of Stratford-atte-Bowe,
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For Frenssh of Parys was to hir unknowe.
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At mete
wel ytaught was she with alle:
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She leet
no morsel from hir lippes falle,
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Ne wette hir fyngres in hir sauce depe;
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130
Wel koude
she carie a morsel, and wel kepe
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That no drope ne fille upon hir brist.
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In curteisie
was set ful muche hir list.
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Hire over-lippe wyped she so clene
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That in hir coppe
ther was no ferthyng sene
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135
Of grece,
whan she dronken hadde hir draughte.
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Ful
semely after hir mete
she raughte.
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And sikerly,
she was of greet desport,
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And ful plesaunt, and amyable of port,
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And peyned hir to countrefete
cheere
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140
Of court, and been estatlich
of manere,
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And to ben holden digne of reverence.
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But, for to speken of hir conscience,
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She was so charitable and so pitous
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She wolde wepe, if that she saugh
a mous
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145
Kaught in a trappe, if it were deed
or bledde.
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Of smale
houndes hadde she, that she fedde
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With rosted flessh, or milk and wastel-breed.
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But soore
weep she if oon of hem
were deed,
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Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte;
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150
And al was conscience,
and tendre herte.
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Ful
semyly hir wympul
pynched was,
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Hire nose tretys, hir eyen greye as glas,
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Hir mouth ful smal, and therto
softe and reed;
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But sikerly
she hadde a fair forheed;
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155
It was almoost a spanne brood, I trowe;
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For, hardily,
she was nat undergrowe.
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Ful
fetys was hir cloke, as I was war;
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Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar
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A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene,
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160
An theron heng a brooch of gold ful sheene,
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On which ther was first write a crowned A,
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And after Amor vincit omnia.
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The
Prioresse:
‘a
prioresse/that of her smylyng was ful symple and coy’ (l.118-19)
‘[M]adam
Eglentye’ is the head of a priory, a nunnery attached to an abbey of a
Benedictine order. Her responsibility is to help conduct the choral
music for the nunnery’s divine services (‘entuned in her nose ful
semely’) that punctuate the day from early morning until nightfall. She
must also preside at the priory’s meals, maintaining order and the
priory’s sacred decorum.
Yet Chaucer
focuses upon her physical beauty, her refined manners and sophisticated
sensibility: characteristics of of her upper class status. Her name is
borrowed from the realm of romance stories popular at the time. He
gives her a face with ‘nose tretys. Her eyen greye as glas,/ her mouth ful smal, and
thereto soft and redde/ But sikerly she hadde a fair foreheed;’
(152-54) This face was the model of beauty in Chaucer’s society (and a
nun’s forehead was never supposed to be visible beneath her habit!)
She travels
with ‘smale houndes’ that ‘she fedde/ With rosted flessh, or milk and
wastel-breed.’ Her dogs are better fed than most peasants would have
been! Eglentyne is fluent in the French learned in Stratford (which is
very classy but her French would have been incomprehensible in Paris!)
She is very aristocratic and sophisticated. This style probably would
have grated against the English commoner, and Chaucer is writing a poem
celebrating a national identity!
Her table
manners are impeccable! Not a crumb falls from her lip, she doesn’t wet
her fingers in gravy, doesn’t slobber, or reach- she makes every effort
to use good ‘curtesie’ ie. she
practices courtly manners. Compared with the typical table manners of a
medieval man, her style is remarkable!
She
possesses a delicately refined conscience: ‘she wolde wepe, if that she
saugh a mous/ Kaught in a trappe’ (144-45) What form of conscience
should we expect from a nun who has devoted her life to a sacred
purpose?
Her Costume:
her nun’s habit is ‘ful fetys’, very elegant; she wears a bejewelled,
coral string of rosary beads from which hangs a gold brooch engraved
with the letter ‘A’ and the maxim,“Love conquers all.” Such jewelry is
hardly appropriate to a nun and is certainly a decoration that would
have been out of dress code!
Yet the
narrator is obviously charmed by Eglentyne's whole manner. She is
indeed made for love. What has Chaucer done to our stock expectations
of the leader of a nunnery in the midst of a holy era? What is
Eglentyne's great talent? Will she realize it in a nunnery? Can you
infer the type of reforms that Chaucer would like to see in the
medieval church?
The Monk
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A MONK ther was, a fair for the maistrie,
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An outridere,
that lovede venerie,
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A manly man, to been an abbot able.
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Ful many a deyntee
hors hadde he in stable,
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And whan he rood, men myghte his brydel heere
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170
Gynglen
in a whistlynge wynd als
cleere
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And eek
as loude, as dooth the chapel belle.
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Ther as this lord was keper of the celle,
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The reule of Seint Maure, or of Seint Beneit,
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By cause that it was old and somdel
streit
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175
This ilke
Monk leet olde thynges pace,
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And heeld after the newe world the space.
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He yaf
nat of that text a pulled hen,
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That seith that hunters beth nat hooly men,
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Ne that a monk, whan he is recchelees,
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180
Is likned til a fissh that is waterlees,-
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This is to seyn, a monk out of his cloystre
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But thilke
text heeld he nat worth an oystre;
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And I seyde his opinioun was good.
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What sholde he studie, and make hymselven wood,
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185
Upon a book in cloystre alwey to poure,
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Or swynken
with his handes and laboure,
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As Austyn bit? How shal the world be served?
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Lat Austyn have
his swynk to him reserved!
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Therfore he was a prikasour
aright:
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190
Grehoundes he hadde, as swift as fowel
in flight;
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Of prikyng
and of huntyng for the hare
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Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.
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I seigh his sleves purfiled
at the hond
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With grys, and that the fyneste of a lond;
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195
And, for to festne his hood under his chyn,
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He hadde of gold ywroght a curious
pyn;
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A love-knotte in the gretter
ende ther was.
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His heed
was balled, that shoon as any glas,
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And eek
his face, as it hadde been enoynt.
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200
He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt,
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Hise eyen stepe, and rollynge in his heed,
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That stemed as a forneys
of a leed;
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His bootes souple, his hors in greet estaat.
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Now certeinly he was a fair
prelaat;
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205
He was nat pale as a forpyned goost.
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A fat swan loved he
best of any roost.
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His palfrey was as broun as is a berye,
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The Monk
‘a manly man… an outridere
that loved venerie’ (166)
The Monk is
another senior cleric with the Benedictine order, but he clearly does
not follow type. Instead of withdrawing from the busy world into the
monastery where he should be living a quiet life of prayer, study, and
manual labor, this monk embraces the world and revels in its pleasures.
He’s a big
enough man to be an abbot! He owns many horses and rides with a
jangling bridle whose bells ring as loud as the chapel bells of his
monastery. So you can hear him coming from a mile away! He has let the
old habits pass and ‘heeld after the newe world the space’ (176): a
very modern monk indeed! He thinks little of the monastic rules laid
out a thousand years before by St. Augustine. ‘He yaf not of that text
a pulled hen.’ (177) ‘Let Austyn have his swynk to him reserved!’ (188)
Instead this
monk is a ‘prikasour aright’: a hunter of hares (double entendre?) He
spares no price to own a pack of the best greyhounds.
One reason
why people like this Monk wound up in the clerical estate was because
of the law of primogeniture. To keep the land and property of noble
families together, the oldest son would inherit everything. Younger
sons were offered lucrative positions in the church to placate them. So
high church positions, such as the one this rich monk possesses,
frequently went to people who had little interest in the church’s
religious mission.
The Monk’s
cloak is hardly the appropriate garb for a devout Benedictine monk. It
is finely sewn: his sleeves are trimmed with grey squirrel fur, and his
hood is fastened with a gold pin shaped like a ‘love-knotte’! His bald
head shines as if ‘enoynt’ with holy oil (it is really perspiration)!
He wears supple leather boots and rides a beautiful horse. He must have cut a dashing
figure!
Chaucer’s
final touch? The monk loves to eat roasted swan- hardly the typical
fare of an ascetic who should deny himself the pleasures of the flesh!
What is Chaucer doing to our typical notions of this holy stereotype?
What vision of the medieval world in 1380 is emerging?
What is this
Monk's great talent? How can he realize it?
The Friar
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A FRERE
ther was, a wantowne and a merye,
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A lymytour,
a ful solempne man.
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|
210
In alle the ordres foure is noon that kan
|
|
So muchel
of daliaunce and fair
langage.
|
|
He hadde maad ful many a mariage
|
|
Of yonge wommen at his owene cost.
|
|
Unto his ordre he was a noble post,
|
|
215
And wel biloved and famulier was he
|
|
With frankeleyns
overal in his contree,
|
|
And eek
with worthy wommen of the toun;
|
|
For he hadde power of confessioun,
|
|
As seyde hymself, moore than a curat,
|
|
220
For of his ordre he was licenciat.
|
|
Ful
swetely herde he confessioun,
|
|
And plesaunt was his absolucioun:
|
|
He was an esy man to yeve
penaunce,
|
|
Ther as he wiste
to have a good pitaunce.
|
|
225
For unto a povre
ordre for to yive
|
|
Is signe that a man is wel yshryve;
|
|
For, if he yaf,
he dorste make avaunt,
|
|
He wiste
that a man was repentaunt;
|
|
For many a man so harde is of his herte,
|
|
230
He may nat wepe, al thogh hym soore
smerte;
|
|
Therfore in stede of wepynge and preyeres
|
|
Men moote yeve
silver to the povre freres.
|
|
His typet was ay farsed
ful of knyves
|
|
And pynnes, for to yeven yonge wyves.
|
|
235
And certeinly he hadde a murye
note:
|
|
Wel koude
he synge, and pleyen on a rote;
|
|
Of yeddynges he baar
outrely the pris.
|
|
His nekke whit was as the flour-de-lys;
|
|
Therto he strong was as a champioun.
|
|
240
He knew the tavernes wel in every toun
|
|
And everich
hostiler and tappestere
|
|
Bet than a lazar
or a beggestere;
|
|
For unto swich
a worthy man as he
|
|
Acorded nat, as by his facultee,
|
|
245
To have with sike
lazars aqueyntaunce.
|
|
It is nat honeste, it may nat avaunce,
|
|
For to deelen with no swich poraille,
|
|
But al with riche and selleres of vitaille.
|
|
And over al, ther as profit sholde arise,
|
|
250
Curteis he was, and lowely
of servyse.
|
|
Ther nas no man nowher so vertuous.
|
|
He was the beste beggere in his hous;
|
|
(And yaf
a certeyn ferme for the graunt
|
|
Noon of his brethren cam ther in his haunt;)
|
|
255
For thogh a wydwe
hadde noght a sho,
|
|
So plesaunt was his "In principio"
|
|
Yet wolde he have a ferthyng,
er he wente;
|
|
His purchas was wel bettre than his rente.
|
|
And rage he koude,
as it were right a whelp.
|
|
260
In love-dayes ther koude he muchel help,
|
|
For there he was nat lyk a cloysterer
|
|
With a thredbare cope, as is a povre
scoler,
|
|
But he was lyk a maister or a pope;
|
|
Of double worstede was his semycope,
|
|
265
That rounded as a belle out of the presse.
|
|
Somwhat he lipsed for his wantownesse
|
|
To make his Englissh sweete upon his tonge;
|
|
And in his harpyng, whan that he hadde songe,
|
|
Hise eyen twynkled in his heed
aryght
|
|
270
As doon the sterres in the frosty nyght.
|
|
This worthy lymytour
was cleped Huberd.
|
The Friar:
‘a lymytour, a ful solempne man…
So muchel of daliaunce and fair langage’ (211)
The Friar
is, supposedly, a member of the Franciscan order, missionaries who have
taken a vow of poverty and chosen to live humbly, begging money in the
streets to aid the poorest of the poor. They imitate the life of St.
Francis of Assisi, a 12th century Italian nobleman who gave up all his
wealth to serve lepers and ease the suffering of the homeless.
Chaucer's
friar could not be more different. He is a South London street hustler!
This guy is one sweet talker, an expert at ‘daliaunce and fair
langage’. Under his expert influence, he has arranged the ‘marriages’
of many of the impoverished girls living in his begging district to his
friends: free born commoners who are landowners and quite wealthy. ‘Unto his ordre he was a
noble post.’ (214) (a bit of Chaucerian bawdry?)
It sounds
good, but the fact of the matter is that The Friar is a pimp. He uses
the power of the confessional booth to befriend homeless women in his
district… and he gives an easy absolution to those who are ‘penitent’.
What is this rogue’s scam? ‘in
stedye of wepynge and preyeres/ Men moote yeve silver to the povre
freres.’ (231-32) Hard cash shows repentance as well as tears! And the
girls? What must they give in return?
What does
the monastic order to which he belongs think of this behavior? ‘He was
the beste beggar in his hous’ (251) Don't ask; don't tell. The
Franciscan elders are happy as long as they receive their cut of his
profits.
His cloak is
stuffed with knives and pins which he peddles on the street to ‘faire
wyves’. He knows the bartenders and waitresses in his district better
than he knows the lepers and beggars. (According to him it would not be
right to be seen with such riff-raff! He’d rather spend his time with
rich merchants and victuallers.) He is a good fighter and holds on to
his territory aggressively! This is one talented beggar! He can get a
farthing out of a shoeless widow!
Chaucer's
Friar is also a great expert on ‘love-days’, those special legal
holidays when poor
disputants without the money to afford an attorney can resolve
financial suits in impromptu street courts. (ala Judge Judy) There he
holds forth like the pope!
His Costume:
a double woven cloak, round as a bell from the mold of his belly; he
purposely lisps when he talks, to sweeten his speech; his eyes twinkle
like stars! And his name is “Huberd”!
Wow! How
does Chaucer portray these representatives of the organized Church?
What is this guy's talent? How could it be used properly?
Group Three:
The
Merchant:
Feudal
social theory had no room for non-military laymen who were neither
manual laborers nor skilled tradesmen. However, merchants were
increasingly visible, asserting a powerful influence on the London
economy. Bankers alone had enough money to finance the king’s ambitious
foreign wars. Chaucer’s father had been a wine merchant who made a
fortune selling foreign vintages to the upper class. Chaucer himself
was the comptroller of customs in 1370, responsible for regulating
trade and collecting excise taxes on wool, furs and hides. The merchant
in Chaucer’s day was often satirized for his secrecy in business deals
and for his dubious financial dealings. The Catholic Church regarded
usury as blasphemous. (Usury is the lending of capital at an interest.
As we discovered in the recent financial meltdown, without credit our
whole economy came to a standstill.)
Chaucer
describes his merchant’s costume first: he wears motley (the fool's
garb at court), a fashionable, very expensive beaver fur hat, and good
boots. The narrator can say little about this man because the merchant
doesn’t have much to say. When he does speak, he only refers to matters
pertaining to business: ‘th’encrees of his wynning’, the safety of the
seas between England and Holland, the current value of currency, and
his upstanding reputation as a businessman free from debt. Can you put
together the various hints Chaucer gives us and explain why this
merchant has gone on a pilgrimage at this particular moment?
The narrator
looks back, and come to think of it, no one remembers his name! Why
not?
What is
Chaucer’s portrait of the emerging merchant class in England at the end
of the 14th century? Can you draw conclusions about his moral judgment
of capitalism?
The Clerk
|
A CLERK
ther was of Oxenford also,
|
|
That unto logyk hadde longe ygo.
|
|
As leene was his hors as is a rake,
|
|
290
And he nas nat right fat, I undertake,
|
|
But looked holwe
and therto sobrely.
|
|
Ful thredbare was his overeste courtepy;
|
|
For he hadde geten hym yet no benefice,
|
|
Ne was so worldly for to have office.
|
|
295
For hym was levere have at his beddes
heed
|
|
Twenty bookes, clad in blak or reed,
|
|
Of Aristotle and his philosophie,
|
|
Than robes riche, or fithele,
or gay sautrie.
|
|
But al be that he was a philosophre,
|
|
300
Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre;
|
|
But al that he myghte of his freendes hente,
|
|
On bookes and on lernynge he it spente,
|
|
And bisily gan for the soules preye
|
|
Of hem that yaf
hym wherwith to scoleye.
|
|
305
Of studie took he
moost cure and moost heede.
|
|
Noght o word spak he moore than was neede,
|
|
And that was seyd in forme and reverence,
|
|
And short and quyk,
and ful of hy sentence;
|
|
Sownynge in moral vertu was his speche,
|
|
310
And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.
|
The Clerk
'ful
thredbare was his overeste courtepy’
The Clerk is
a college student at Oxford, reading for religious orders: the Trivium
(grammar, logic and rhetoric) and Quadrivium (arithmetic, geometry,
astronomy, and music.)
Devoted to
his studies, the Clerk rides a lean horse and wears a threadbare cape.
He looks ‘holwe’ to the narrator. The Clerk has not yet gotten his
benefice: the ecclesiastical position that will enable him to earn a
living ala the Monk or the Friar. He has not yet taken his vows of
chastity. However, he’d rather read Aristotle than the Bible. He wants
to become a teacher, not a priest: his twenty books are more valuable
to him than rich robes, music or a ‘psalterie’ (An ancient and medieval
stringed instrument, more or less resembling the dulcimer (OED)).
He is a
philosopher, but he cannot earn any money at such a profession. He only
prays for the souls of those who contribute to his education. The Clerk
speaks no more than necessary and when he does, his speech is ‘short
and quyk and full of hy sentence’. He loves learning and wants to
teach.
Humanism:
*
Humanism stressed the dignity of humanity and shifted intellectual
emphasis from theology and logic to the study of human wisdom.
* studia humanitatis: the
educational disciplines outside of theology and natural science.
Humanism was opposed to the particular brand of logic known as
Scholasticism, whose intent was to reconcile the revealed truth of
Christianity with Greek reason.
* The
Curriculum: the trivium (grammar, logic, rhetoric) and the quadrivium
(geometry, arithmetic, astronomy, music).
*
Students had to master both Latin and Greek to acquire a thorough
grounding in the works of Cicero, Plato, and Aristotle. (Cicero was
considered the model citizen: eloquent, wise and committed to the
service of the state. All students carefully studied his speeches and
imitated his style.)
What vision
of the changing place of education and classical learning is suggested
by Chaucer’s depiction of the Clerk? Why isn’t there a job for him in
this society? What
kind of priest would he make?
The Sergeant
of Law
|
A SERGEANT OF THE LAWE, war
and wys,
|
|
That often hadde been at the Parvys,
|
|
Ther was also, ful riche of excellence.
|
|
Discreet he was, and of greet reverence-
|
|
315
He semed swich, hise wordes weren so wise.
|
|
Justice
he was ful often in assise,
|
|
By patente,
and by pleyn commissioun.
|
|
For his science,
and for his heigh renoun,
|
|
Of fees and robes hadde he many oon.
|
|
320
So greet a purchasour
was nowher noon:
|
|
Al was fee
symple to hym in effect,
|
|
His purchasyng myghte nat been infect.
|
|
Nowher so bisy a man as he ther nas,
|
|
And yet he semed bisier than he was.
|
|
325
In termes hadde he caas and doomes alle
|
|
That from the
tyme of Kyng William were falle.
|
|
Therto he koude
endite and make a thyng,
|
|
Ther koude no wight
pynche at his writyng;
|
|
And every statut koude he pleyn by
rote.
|
|
330
He rood but hoomly in a medlee
cote
|
|
Girt
with a ceint of silk, with barres smale;
|
|
Of his array
telle I no lenger tale.
|
Sergeant of
Law
‘Nowher so
bisy a man as he there was,/
And yet he semed bisier than he was.”
A lawyer for
the crown, the Sergeant at Law possesses the highest legal rank in
society. In this position, he serves as a circuit judge and barrister
on the porches of St. Paul’s Cathedral, the location of the king’s
legal court. As justice at the court of assizes, he would issue patents
with the full authority of the crown. He is therefore in a position to
rake in a lot of bribes on top of his percentage of the fees assessed
on business dealing.
Common Law
had become the highest authority in England after King John was forced
to sign the Magna Charta in 1215. He acknowledged that even a King was
not above the law. Prior to the establishment of this legal tradition,
nobles had been able to rule arbitrarily in the criminal cases and
business disputes that had come before them. In those days trial by
jury did not exist. Citizens could request a trial by ordeal to appeal
the decision of a judge, but most people elected not to as this sort of
trial involved holding a smoking hot iron bar with your bare hands or
being dunked in a pond for minutes at a time! The rise of English
Common Law ranks as one of the most important social achievements in
our history because judges and juries had to be bound by the legal
precedents established over time. In this way a fairer legal process
could be guaranteed any citizen…. As long as the system avoided
corruption.
Chaucer’s
Seargeant of Law exercises the full power of the crown. His word has
become law. No one can say anything about his judgments…because he
knows inside out all the legal precedents and statutes established
since the time of William the Conqueror. He seems busier than he really
is. Why?
This guy is
rich but he is not ostentatious. He wears simple cloth of dyed wool,
(but it is lined with silk!)
What point
is Chaucer making about the law and the legal profession of his time?
The Franklin
|
A FRANKELEYN
was in his compaignye.
|
|
Whit was his berd as is a dayesye;
|
|
335
Of his complexioun
he was sangwyn.
|
|
Wel loved he by the morwe a sope in wyn,;
|
|
To lyven in delit
was evere his wone,
|
|
For he was Epicurus owene sone,
|
|
That heeld opinioun that pleyn delit
|
|
340
Was verray
felicitee parfit.
|
|
An housholdere, and that a greet, was he;
|
|
Seint Julian was he in his contree.
|
|
His breed, his ale, was alweys after oon,
|
|
A bettre envyned
man was nowher noon.
|
|
345
Withoute bake mete was nevere his hous
|
|
Of fissh and flessh, and that so plentevous,
|
|
It snewed in his hous of mete
and drynke,
|
|
Of alle deyntees
that men koude thynke.
|
|
After the sondry
sesons of the yeer,
|
|
350
So chaunged he his mete and his soper.
|
|
Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in muwe,
|
|
And many a breem and many a luce
in stuwe.
|
|
Wo was his cook, but if his sauce were
|
|
Poynaunt
and sharp, and redy al his geere.
|
|
355
His table dormant in his halle alway
|
|
Stood redy covered al the longe day.
|
|
At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire;
|
|
Ful
ofte tyme he was knyght of the shire.
|
|
An anlaas
and a gipser al of silk
|
|
360
Heeng at his girdel,
whit as morne milk.
|
|
A shirreve
hadde he been, and a countour.
|
|
Was nowher swich
a worthy vavasour.
|
The Franklin
‘Wel loved
he by the morwe a sop in wyn’
Traveling
with the Sergeant of Lawe is his good friend the Franklin. A franklin
was a free born provincial land holder, yet he was born into a
commoner. He is a provincial country squire, but he is friendly with
this wealthy and influential nobleman. Chaucer’s point?
Chaucer
describes the franklin as of ‘sangwyn complexioun’. According to the
medieval medical theory of the humours, a sanguine temperament is
caused by the suffusion of blood in the body. Psychologically, a
sanguine man possesses great optimism and good humor. Chaucer depicts
the franklin as ruddy of face, of good digestion and as ‘Epicurus’ owne
sone’. An Epicurean lives for nothing but pleasure. (Bring on wine,
women and song, for tomorrow we die!) This franklin lives for pleasure,
particularly in food. Like St Julian, he is a great patron of
hospitality. At his dinners, ‘it snewed of mete and drinke’. In his
house he always keeps the traditional hospitality table (from which all
visitors can help themselves) full of roast birds, meat and fish.
The Franklin
serves as the district judge ‘at sessiouns’ in his neighborhood. He has
also been elected the ‘knight of the shire’ or member of Parliament for
his region. Since the days of the Magna Carta, English kings had been
forced to rely upon the compliance of a council of nobles whnever they wanted to
raise taxes. During the reign of Edward I in the century prior to
Chaucer’s birth, Parliament had begun admitting elected representatives
from citizens around the country. These electors exercised considerable
influence over land policy.
How did
Chaucer’s franklin become so rich?
Costume: He
wears a dagger and carries a silk purse (gipser)-
just like a nobleman.
What point
is Chaucer making about the changing composition of medieval society?
How is society also becoming more secular in its focus?
The Shipman
|
A SHIPMAN was ther, wonynge fer by weste;
|
|
For aught I woot,
he was of Dertemouthe.
|
|
He rood upon a rouncy,
as he kouthe,
|
|
In a gowne of faldyng
to the knee.
|
|
A daggere hangynge on a laas
hadde he
|
|
395
Aboute his nekke, under his arm adoun.
|
|
The hoote somer hadde maad his hewe
al broun,
|
|
And certeinly he was a good felawe.
|
|
Ful many a draughte of wyn had he ydrawe
|
|
Fro Burdeux-ward, whil that the chapman
sleep.
|
|
400
Of nyce
conscience took he no keep.
|
|
If that he faught, and hadde the hyer
hond,
|
|
By water he sente hem
hoom to every lond.
|
|
But of his craft, to rekene wel his tydes,
|
|
His stremes,
and his daungers hym bisides,
|
|
405
His herberwe
and his moone, his lodemenage,
|
|
Ther nas noon swich
from Hulle to Cartage.
|
|
Hardy he was, and wys to undertake;
|
|
With many a
tempest hadde his berd been shake.
|
|
He knew alle
the havenes as they were,
|
|
410
From
Gootlond to the Cape of Fynystere,
|
|
And every
cryke in Britaigne and in Spayne.
|
|
His barge ycleped
was the Maudelayne.
|
The Doctor
of Physik
|
With us ther
was a DOCTOUR OF PHISIK;
|
|
In al this
world ne was ther noon hym lik,
|
|
415
To speke of
phisik and of surgerye,
|
|
For he was grounded
in astronomye.
|
|
He kepte his
pacient a ful greet deel
|
|
In houres,
by his magyk natureel.
|
|
Wel koude
he fortunen the ascendent
|
|
420
Of his
ymages for his pacient.
|
|
He knew the
cause of everich maladye,
|
|
Were it of
hoot, or coold, or moyste, or drye,
|
|
And where
they engendred, and of what humour.
|
|
He was a verray
parfit praktisour:
|
|
425
The cause
yknowe, and of his harm the roote,
|
|
Anon
he yaf
the sike man his boote.
|
|
Ful redy
hadde he hise apothecaries
|
|
To sende him
drogges and his letuaries,
|
|
For ech of
hem made oother for to wynne-
|
|
430
Hir
frendshipe nas nat newe to bigynne.
|
|
Wel knew he
the olde Esculapius,
|
|
And
Deyscorides and eek Rufus,
|
|
Olde
Ypocras, Haly, and Galyen,
|
|
Serapioun,
Razis, and Avycen,
|
|
435
Averrois,
Damascien, and Constantyn,
|
|
Bernard, and
Gatesden, and Gilbertyn.
|
|
Of his diete
mesurable was he,
|
|
For it was
of no superfluitee,
|
|
But of greet
norissyng, and digestible.
|
|
440
His studie
was but litel on the Bible.
|
|
In sangwyn
and in pers he clad was al,
|
|
Lyned with
taffata and with sendal;
|
|
And yet he
was but esy of dispence;
|
|
He kepte
that he wan in pestilence.
|
|
445
For gold in
phisik is a cordial,
|
|
Therfore he
lovede gold in special.
|
The Wife of
Bath
|
A good WIF
was ther, OF biside BATHE,
|
|
But she was somdel
deef, and that was scathe.
|
|
Of
clooth-makyng she hadde swich
an haunt,
|
|
450
She passed
hem of Ypres and of Gaunt.
|
|
In al the
parisshe wif ne was ther noon
|
|
That to the
offrynge bifore hire sholde goon;
|
|
And if ther
dide, certeyn so wrooth was she,
|
|
That she was
out of alle charitee.
|
|
455
Hir coverchiefs
ful fyne weren of ground;
|
|
I dorste
swere they weyeden ten pound
|
|
That on a
Sonday weren upon hir heed.
|
|
Hir hosen
weren of fyn scarlet reed,
|
|
Ful streite yteyd, and shoes ful moyste
and newe.
|
|
460
Boold was
hir face, and fair, and reed
of hewe.
|
|
She was a
worthy womman al hir lyve:
|
|
Housbondes
at chirche dore she hadde fyve,
|
|
Withouthen
oother compaignye in youthe, -
|
|
But therof
nedeth nat to speke as nowthe.
|
|
465
And thries
hadde she been at Jerusalem;
|
|
She hadde
passed many a straunge strem;
|
|
At Rome she
hadde been, and at Boloigne,
|
|
In Galice at
Seint-Jame, and at Coloigne.
|
|
She koude
muchel of wandrynge by the weye.
|
|
470
Gat-tothed
was she, soothly for to seye.
|
|
Upon an amblere
esily she sat,
|
|
Ywympled
wel, and on hir heed an hat
|
|
As brood as
is a bokeler or a targe;
|
|
A
foot-mantel aboute hir hipes large,
|
|
475
And on hir
feet a paire of spores sharpe.
|
|
In
felaweshipe wel koude she laughe and carpe.
|
|
Of remedies
of love she knew per chaunce,
|
|
For she koude
of that art the olde daunce.
|
The Wife of
Bath
“She was a
worthy womman al hir lyve:/
Housbandes at chirche she hadde fyve”
This merry
widow comes from Bath, renowned throughout England as a center for the
production of finely woven fabrics. On her head she displays delicately
woven cloth (covering a metal rig that must weigh ten pounds!) She is a
walking advertisement for her weaving business and her widowhood (which
may be one and the same). The Wife of Bath is filthy rich! At the
cathedral in Bath she is furious if someone else deigns to approach the
offertory before she does!
Beneath her
fine mourning garments, she wears fine scarlet stockings! She has a
bold red face and reddish hair. Chaucer mentions that she has had five
husbands at church. (That doesn’t count the ‘oother compaignye’ she had
in her youth.)
She has been
to Jerusalem three times! (A journey of several months in Chaucer’s
day!) She’s been on many pilgrimages to shrines in Rome, Bologna,
Cologne, and even Saint James at Compastella (in Spain), the most
famous shrine in Christendom outside Jerusalem. This list is fabulous,
possibly unbelievable! Has she made these pilgrimages out of holy
devotion to God?
“She koulde
muchel of wandyrnyge by the weighe.”
How has the
Wife of Bath earned such a highly lucrative living? Where does she meet
her prospective husbands? ‘Gat-tothed was she, soothly for to sey.’ What did medieval
superstition say about gap-toothed women? She wears a huge hat, a huge
overskirt, and on her supple boots she wears ‘sharpe spurs’! She loves
to laugh and talk and have fun, and she knows many remedies for
venereal diseases!
What is
Chaucer’s purpose in his depiction of the Wife of Bath? How does this
outrageous, larger than life character seem to jump off the page and
into our lives directly from the Middle Ages? What is the measure of
Chaucer’s genius as an artist?
Group Four:
The Foundation of the Medieval Order
The Parson
|
A good man
was ther of religioun,
|
|
480
And was a povre
PERSOUN OF A TOUN,
|
|
But riche he
was of hooly thoght and werk.
|
|
He was also
a lerned man, a clerk,
|
|
That Cristes
gospel trewely wolde preche;
|
|
His parisshens
devoutly wolde he teche.
|
|
485
Benynge
he was, and wonder diligent,
|
|
And in
adversitee ful pacient,
|
|
And swich
he was ypreved ofte
sithes.
|
|
Ful looth
were hym to cursen for his tithes,
|
|
But rather
wolde he yeven, out of doute,
|
|
490
Unto his povre
parisshens aboute
|
|
Of his
offryng and eek of his substaunce.
|
|
He koude in
litel thyng have suffisaunce.
|
|
Wyd was his
parisshe, and houses fer asonder,
|
|
But he ne
lefte nat, for reyn ne thonder,
|
|
495
In siknesse
nor in meschief to visite
|
|
The ferreste
in his parisshe, muche and lite,
|
|
Upon his
feet, and in his hand a staf.
|
|
This noble ensample
to his sheep he yaf,
|
|
That first
he wroghte, and afterward he taughte.
|
|
500
Out of the
gosple he tho wordes caughte,
|
|
And this figure
he added eek therto,
|
|
That if gold
ruste, what shal iren do?
|
|
For if a
preest be foul, on whom we truste,
|
|
No wonder is
a lewed man to ruste;
|
|
505
And shame it
is, if a prest take keep,
|
|
A shiten
shepherde and a clene sheep.
|
|
Wel oghte a
preest ensample for to yive,
|
|
By his clennesse,
how that his sheep sholde lyve.
|
|
He sette nat
his benefice to hyre
|
|
510
And leet
his sheep encombred in the myre
|
|
And ran to
Londoun unto Seinte Poules
|
|
To seken hym
a chaunterie for soules,
|
|
Or with a bretherhed
to been witholde;
|
|
But dwelt at
hoom, and kepte wel his folde,
|
|
515
So that the
wolf ne made it nat myscarie;
|
|
He was a
shepherde and noght a mercenarie.
|
|
And though
he hooly were and vertuous,
|
|
He was to
synful men nat despitous,
|
|
Ne of his
speche daungerous ne digne,
|
|
520
But in his
techyng discreet and benygne;
|
|
To drawen
folk to hevene by fairnesse,
|
|
By good ensample,
this was his bisynesse.
|
|
But it were
any persone obstinat,
|
|
What so he
were, of heigh or lough estat,
|
|
525
Hym wolde he
snybben sharply for the nonys.
|
|
A bettre
preest I trowe, that nowher noon ys.
|
|
He waited
after no pompe and reverence,
|
|
Ne maked him
a spiced conscience,
|
|
But Cristes
loore, and Hise apostles twelve
|
|
530
He taughte,
but first he folwed it hymselve.
|
The Parson
‘But
Christes loore and his apostles twelve/ He taughte; but first he folwed
it hymselfe.’
Before we
conclude that Chaucer’s vision of his age is completely cynical, let us
consider his portraits of the village parson and the plowman. These
idealized portraits epitomize the principles of church and society that
held together the rule of the Catholic Church throughout the European
world for a millennium.
Chaucer’s
parson is a poor village priest, learned, happy with few possessions
and patient in adversity. He is loath to punish his parishioners for
not paying their tithes to the Church, as is required. Instead he gives
what little he has to them! He doesn’t neglect his people despite the
wide size of his parish, despite rain, sickness or the mischief of the
road.
He carries a
staff, like a good shepherd, and catches his sheep with the good words
of the gospel. He regards his example as essential to the well being of
his parishioners. What can they believe in if their priest be foul?
He does not
rent out his benefice and leave his flock to run to St. Paul’s in
London to collect funds to build a chantry in which to pray for the
souls of the rich and display their wealth. He does not join a wealthy
guild in town and earn a fee praying for them. Instead he remains a
shepherd, not a mercenary.
He treats
the sinful with compassion not contempt. He draws the folk to heaven by
fairness and his good example, but if a sinner is not penitent he will
shun him as wicked even if he comes from high estate.
In short, he
strives to follow Christ’s laws as best he can. For what purpose is he
taking his pilgrimage to Canterbury?
The Ploughman
|
With
hym ther was a PLOWMAN, was his brother,
|
|
That hadde
ylad of dong ful many a fother;
|
|
A trewe swynkere
and a good was he,
|
|
Lyvynge in pees
and parfit charitee.
|
|
535
God loved he
best with al his hoole herte
|
|
At alle
tymes, thogh him gamed or smerte,
|
|
And thanne
his neighebor right as hym-selve.
|
|
He wolde
thresshe, and therto dyke and delve,
|
|
For Cristes
sake, for every povre wight
|
|
540
Withouten hire,
if it lay in his myght.
|
|
Hise tithes
payed he ful faire and wel,
|
|
Bothe of his
propre swynk and his catel.
|
|
In a tabard
he rood, upon a mere.
|
Ploughman
‘God loved
he best with al his hoole herte’
Travelling
with the Parson is his brother, the Plowman, another idealized portrait
of a social type that preserved the stability of the medieval heirarchy
for centuries.
The Plowman
is a freeman, not a bonded laborer, but he is a willing servant. He
accepts his place in society and recognizes that to work hard is to
serve God. He threshes the crops, digs the ditches and builds the dykes
that preserve us from the flood. He asks for no profit for his labor.
He accepts instead the meager allowance which feeds and houses him. He
pays his tithe not just on his produce but on the full value of his
cattle.
Were these
portraits of the Parson and the Plowman nostalgic glances back at a
world fast receding into the past, or were they emblematic of the ideal
world towards which the pilgrims need to rededicate themselves? What is
Chaucer’s purpose?
The social
situation in Chaucer’s time had been transformed by the virulence of
the Black Plague which struck most terribly in the years 1348-50
killing nearly a third of the population and recurred throughout the
century. The huge population decline devastated the labor supply and,
ironically, gave peasants the political weapon they needed to demand
reforms to the feudal economic system. Historian Lee Patterson
described the situation:
The plague
shifted the balance of power dramatically and hastened the end of
feudalism as a social and economic system. Before the plague land and
food were scarce while labor was abundant and demand was voracious;
after the plague the situation was exactly the opposite: there was lots
of land, far fewer mouths to feed with a now plentiful agricultural
crop, and a severe shortage of labor. (Patterson)
Parliament
sought to maintain the status quo in a series of statutes which
restricted the rights of peasants to work for the highest bidder and
led eventually to a peasant uprising in 1381 which thoroughly terrified
the ruling class. (See Wat Tyler’s Peasant Revolt 1381)
Group Five:
The Rogues
The
Miller
|
The
MILLERE was a stout carl
for the nones;
|
|
Ful
byg he was of brawn
and eek
of bones-
|
|
That
proved wel, for over al ther he cam
|
|
550
At wrastlynge
he wolde have alwey the ram.
|
|
He
was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre,
|
|
Ther
was no dore that he nolde heve of harre,
|
|
Or
breke it at a rennyng with his heed.
|
|
His
berd as any sowe or fox was reed,
|
|
555
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 herys,
|
|
Reed
as the brustles of a sowes erys;
|
|
Hise
nosethirles blake were and wyde.
|
|
560
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;
|
|
565
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.
|
|
|
The Miller
‘He was a
jaglere and a goliardyeys/ Wel koude he stelen corn and tollen thries’
The Miller
is a bully, brute and thief; he is like an animal, but he is also
powerful- like his windmill.
Millers
performed an essential occupation in the community. They not only
ground the corn and wheat into flour for bread, but they doled out the
grain according to the market price using a scale. The millers were
disliked for their dishonesty and thievery: manipulating prices to
cheat farmers and tampering with scales to take inordinate profits from
the hungry people who depended on the miller to provide them with the
most basic item in their diet. Particularly during times of famine
(frequent during the Middle Ages), the Miller was hated and feared
because he dispensed life and death in his willingness to sell or give
grain to starving people. (See St. Albans Rising)
This Miller
is ‘ful byg of brawn and eek of bones’; he always wins the prize ram in
the local wrestling tournament. No door can hold him: he’ll use his
knot head to ‘breke it at a rennyng with his heed’.
On his nose
is a huge wart with a ‘toft of heyrs/ Reed as the brustles of a sowes
erys’
The narrator
calls the Miller a thief, mentioning that he has a ‘thombe of gold’.
His mouth is
like 'a greet forneys' from which comes obscene stories and ribald
jokes. He pipes the
company of pilgrims out of Southerk, playing a march tune on his
bagpipes. (See Dooms and the Mouth of Hell in Late Medieval Period.)
|
The
Maunciple
|
|
|
|
|
A
gentil MAUNCIPLE was ther of a temple,
|
|
|
570
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.
|
|
|
575
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,
|
|
|
580
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),
|
|
|
585
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
Reeve
|
The
REVE was a sclendre
colerik man.
|
|
590
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.
|
|
595
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,
|
|
600
His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his
pultrye,
|
|
Was
hoolly in this Reves governynge,
|
|
And
by his covenant yaf
the rekenynge,
|
|
Syn
that his lord was twenty yeer of age,
|
|
Ther
koude no man brynge hym in arrerage.
|
|
605
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.
|
|
610
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 hood.
|
|
615
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,
|
|
620
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.
|
The
Reeve
‘a slender, coleryk man’…
‘They were
adrad of hym as of the deeth./
His wonyng was ful faire upoin an heeth.’
The Reeve
is the general manager on his estate, responsible for the land and its
crops, the stock animals, the working of the farm, and the accounting
of its funds. He is crafty and sly, dominated by the humour of bile: an
angry, choleric, frightening man!
He wears a
thin close-cropped beard, short cut hair, and he has long, thin
calf-less legs. Despite his power and wealth, he seems pinched and
sickly.
He knows
every detail of the functioning of his farm: he knows the exact
contents of the granary and corn bin; no auditor can cheat him; as a
matter of fact, no one on the farm dares to cheat him. He knows all the
tricks of the trade (and is certain to have run into a fair number of
cheating millers in his time.) He knows farming so well that simply
from gauging the rain or drought, he can tell to the pound the yield of
a particular piece of land.
This reeve
is taking advantage of a common legal loophole to reap in added gains.
The owner of his farm is not yet of legal age and therefore cannot be
sued for arrears of bills. The reeve is secretly taking advantage of
this situation by racking up as much debt as possible on the farm and
siphoning the proceeds to his own use. He gives and lends his lord’s
property. His house on the farm is larger than the owner’s!
He even
has a fall back profession if he ever gets fired! He is a skilled
carpenter.
He wears
his coat like a friar; his hair is cut like a friar, but this reeve
clearly has dedicated his life to a different religion than
Christianity.
Why do you
think he takes the ‘hyndereste’ place on the route?
The
Summoner
|
A SOMONOUR
was ther with us in that place,
|
|
That hadde
a fyr-reed
cherubynnes face,
|
|
For saucefleem
he was, with eyen narwe.
|
|
As hoot he
was and lecherous as a sparwe,
|
|
With
scalled browes blake, and piled berd,
|
|
630
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 whelkes
white,
|
|
635
Nor of the
knobbes
sittynge on his chekes.
|
|
Wel loved
he garleek,
oynons,
and eek
lekes,
|
|
And for to
drynken strong wyn, reed
as blood;
|
|
Thanne
wolde he speke and crie as he were wood.
|
|
And whan
that he wel dronken hadde the wyn,
|
|
640
Than wolde
he speke no word but Latyn.
|
|
A fewe
termes hadde he, two or thre,
|
|
That he
had lerned out of som decree-
|
|
No wonder
is, he herde it al the day,
|
|
And eek
ye knowen wel how that a jay
|
|
645
Kan clepen
"Watte" as wel as kan the pope.
|
|
But whoso
koude in oother
thyng hym grope,
|
|
Thanne
hadde he spent al his philosophie;
|
|
Ay
"Questio quid iuris"
wolde he crie.
|
|
He was a gentil
harlot
and a kynde;
|
|
650
A bettre
felawe sholde men noght fynde;
|
|
He wolde
suffre, for a quart of wyn,
|
|
A good
felawe to have his concubyn
|
|
A
twelf-monthe, and excuse hym atte fulle;
|
|
Ful prively
a fynch eek
koude
he pulle.
|
|
655
And if he
foond owher
a good felawe,
|
|
He wolde
techen him to have noon awe,
|
|
In swich
caas,
of the ercedekenes curs,
|
|
But if a
mannes soule were in his purs;
|
|
For in his
purs he sholde ypunysshed
be.
|
|
660
"Purs is
the erchedekenes helle," seyde he.
|
|
But wel I woot
he lyed right in dede;
|
|
Of cursyng
oghte ech
gilty man him drede,
|
|
For curs
wol slee,
right as assoillyng
savith,
|
|
And also
war him of a Significavit.
|
|
665
In daunger
hadde he at his owene gise
|
|
The yonge girles
of the diocise,
|
|
And knew
hir conseil,
and was al hir reed.
|
|
A gerland
hadde he set upon his heed
|
|
As greet
as it were for an ale-stake;
|
|
670
A bokeleer
hadde he maad him of a cake.
|
|
The
Summoner:
Wel loved
he garleek, oynons and eke lekes,/
And for to drynken strong wyn, reed as blood/…/And whan that he wel
dronken hadde the wyn,/ Than wolde he speke no word but Latyne.”
A summoner
is a minor, non-clerical officer of the archdeacon’s ecclesiastical
court. There were many different types of court in the middle ages. The
king exercised his power through a legal system which regulated
business and criminal behavior, but the church itself had a court which
prosecuted moral crimes: violations of the ten commandments. The church
could not sentence a person to jail or force him to pay a fine, but the
church could excommunicate a sinner, and that action would not only
condemn the person to damnation, but it would also force the community
to ostracize the sinner.
The
summoner serves as the beadle or policeman for this morals court. This
position offers him ample opportunity to practice extortion and
exercise his depravity in the community.
He is not
only morally unattractive; he is physically repugnant: ‘ a fyr-reed cherubynnes face…
with scalled browes blake and piled berd’ On his cheek are ‘whelkes
white’ and ‘knobbes’ which no ointment can heal. He loves to eat
garlic, onions and leeks, strong wine. The children of the neighborhood
run from his fearful visage.
That’s all
disgusting enough, but why then is he described as possessing a
‘cherubynne’s face’? In
our imagination a cherub is one of those flying infants like Cupid who
flutter about shooting arrows of love into the hearts of the
unsuspecting on Valentine’s Day. But if you look in the Bible, the
cherubim served a different purpose altogether: In Genesis when Adam
and Eve are driven from paradise, God places cherubim at the gate with
flaming swords to their prevent return and guard the path to the Tree
of Life. In Ezekiel, cherubim are described as mythological creatures
with four wings and four faces which emerge from the north wind to
protect the path to Eden. In Solomon’s Temple Cherubim protect the arc
of the covenenant. They accompany Jesus on the Day of Judgment.If you
recall the climactic scene in Raiders of the Lost Arc, these cherubim possess the
power to render you unto dust quite rapidly.
What is
Chaucer’s purpose? The Summoner, as the beadle for the ecclesiastical
court,
represents the terrible power of
God on the Day of Judgment. It is he who will summon both the quick and
the dead on that day so that justice can be rendered. In perverting
this fundamental aspect of God’s justice, the summoner has brought a
terrible sentence upon himself. He is the living embodiment of the
punishment that awaits us all if we do not heed God’s laws.
When he
gets drunk, he screams in Latin like he is mad! He knows a few legal
terms from hanging about the church court, and he will toss the
language of decrees about terrifying the people. To Chaucer’s
superstitious contemporaries, words from the actual decree of
excommunication could carry the power of a magical spell, banishing all
in hearing to perdition. With such magic power at his disposal, the
Summoner can circumvent the archdeacon’s writ for a price, but woe be unto them who are in his purse
(ie. debt). The Summoner is just as liable to damn them with a
‘Significat’: the order to expel an excommunicated sinner. Even the
youngest girls of the diocese are in
danger around him because, like the Firar, he has extorted from them
their secret sins and uses this knowledge to corrupt them
all! Hell, he’ll even share one of his concubines with you for a
pitcher of blood red wine!
The
Summoner truly is damned: he is a ‘gentil harlot’ willing to trade his
concubines about in exchange for wine. He knows how to ‘pulle a
finche’: ie he knows how to hunt down young prey in his amorous
pursuits.
Costume:
On his head he wears a huge red hat as big as the sign outside an
alehouse. He carries a buckler made of cake. This guy can control
neither his eating nor his drinking.
Why is he
on this pilgrimage?
The
Pardoner
|
With hym
ther rood a gentil
PARDONER
|
|
Of
Rouncivale, his freend
and his compeer,
|
|
That
streight was comen fro the court of Rome.
|
|
Ful loude
he soong "Com hider, love, to me!"
|
|
675
This
Somonour bar to hym a stif
burdoun;
|
|
Was nevere
trompe
of half so greet a soun.
|
|
This
Pardoner hadde heer
as yelow as wex,
|
|
But smothe
it heeng as dooth
a strike of flex;
|
|
By ounces
henge his lokkes that he hadde,
|
|
680
And
therwith he hise shuldres overspradde;
|
|
But thynne
it lay by colpons oon and oon.
|
|
But hood,
for jolitee, wered
he noon,
|
|
For it was
trussed
up in his walet.
|
|
Hym
thoughte he rood al of the newe jet;
|
|
685
Dischevelee,
save
his cappe, he rood al
bare.
|
|
Swiche
glarynge eyen hadde he as an
hare.
|
|
A vernycle
hadde he sowed upon his cappe.
|
|
His walet
lay biforn hym in his lappe
|
|
Bretful
of pardoun
come from Rome al hoot.
|
|
690
A voys he
hadde as smal
as hath a goot,
|
|
No berd
hadde he, ne nevere sholde have;
|
|
As smothe
it was as it were late shave,
|
|
I trowe
he were a geldyng or a mare.
|
|
But of his
craft, from Berwyk into Ware,
|
|
695
Ne was
ther swich
another pardoner;
|
|
For in his
male
he hadde a pilwe-beer,
|
|
Which that
he seyde was Oure Lady veyl:
|
|
He seyde
he hadde a gobet
of the seyl
|
|
That Seint
Peter hadde, whan that he wente
|
|
700
Upon the see,
til Jesu Crist hym hente.
|
|
He hadde a
croys
of latoun
ful of stones,
|
|
And in a
glas he hadde pigges bones.
|
|
But with
thise relikes, whan that he fond
|
|
A povre
persoun dwellyng upon lond,
|
|
705
Upon a day
he gat hym moore moneye
|
|
Than that
the person gat in monthes tweye;
|
|
And thus,
with feyned flaterye and japes,
|
|
He made
the persoun and the peple his apes.
|
|
But trewely
to tellen atte laste,
|
|
710
He was in chirche
a noble ecclesiaste.
|
|
Wel koude
he rede a lessoun or a storie,
|
|
But alderbest
he song an offertorie;
|
|
For wel he
wiste,
whan that song was songe,
|
|
He moste
preche, and wel affile his tonge
|
|
715
To wynne
silver, as he ful wel koude;
|
|
Therfore
he song
the murierly and loude.
|
|
|
The
Pardoner
‘His
walet, biforn hym in his lappe,/
Bretful of pardoun comen from Rome al hoot.’
The
Summoner’s good buddy is his traveling companion, the Pardoner.
Together they are merrily singing “Come hither love to me!” as they
pass their way to Canterbury.
A pardoner
was a seller of indulgences. The church actually sold writs which
offered official absolution of punishment for sins committed by those
on earth or now in purgatory. In return for this writ, the pardoner
could impose penance in the form of prayers, a pilgrimage, or more
likely alms given directly to him. Furthermore, this pardoner carries a
pillowcase full of holy relics with him which
possess medicinal qualities: he has part of the veil of the Virgin
herself, a scrap of the sail from St. Peter’s fishing boat, even a
glass full of the bones of Jesus Christ himself (which look remarkably
like pig’s bones)! By Chaucer’s time these practicies, designed to
raise funds for church projects (like hospitals and other charities), had gotten completely out of
hand. The opportunites for graft and corruption in a credulous era were
limitless. Not only did the sick and the poor seek magic remedies for
ailments, but the wealthy figured that a good investment might reduce
the time they spent in Purgatory, the cosmic waiting house where the
saved burn away their sins before entering heaven.(Nice touch! You
cannot purchase salvation, but you can certainly reduce time spent in
Purgatory with a handsome gift to the church.) Church officials had
discovered easy ways to enrich the papacy and themselves. A hundred
years after Chaucer, the rebellion against these practices would split
the Church forever during the Reformation.
This
Pardoner works for the Hospital of St Mary of Rouncivale, located in
the village of Charing Cross between London and Westminster. He ‘streight has comen fro
the court of Rome’ or so he says in his sales pitch. He possesses a
strong bass voice, like a trumpet, which he uses to hawk his wares and
to deliver impromptu sermons.
For
‘jolitee’, he wears his long yellow hair without a hood, ‘Dischevelee’,
a bold fashion choice for this age! He has bold, staring eyes like a
hare, his chin is smooth and beardless, he speaks in a small goat’s
voice, and he wears a copy of the veil of St. Veronica on his hat. All
these details suggest an effeminate appearance despite his deep bass
singing voice. A gelding? Even in the middle ages, homosexuals were
clearly among this party of English citizens
enroute to Canterbury!
The
narrator says that this pardoner has no equal from Berwyck to Ware, or
literally across the breadth of England! He can make more money in a
day than the parson will earn in a month.
In church
he preaches beautifully (even if he is not an ordained priest). He has
a beautiful bass voice (even if he dresses like a woman). He has a
silver tongue! Even so, he might represent the most damnable behavior
among this whole company of sinners: he trades upon the faith of the
people in the mercy of God and his love for humankind.
|
Chaucer's
Apology
|
|
|
|
|
Now
have I toold you shortly in a clause,
|
|
|
Th'estaat,
th'array,
the nombre,
and eek
the cause
|
|
|
Why that
assembled was this compaignye
|
|
|
720
In
Southwerk, at this gentil
hostelrye
|
|
|
That highte
the Tabard, faste by the Belle.
|
|
|
But now is
tyme to yow for to telle
|
|
|
How that
we baren us that ilke
nyght,
|
|
|
Whan we
were in that hostelrie
alyght;
|
|
|
725
And after
wol I telle of our viage
|
|
|
And all
the remenaunt of oure pilgrimage.
|
|
|
But first
I pray yow, of youre curteisye,
|
|
|
That ye
n'arette it nat my vileynye,
|
|
|
Thogh that
I pleynly speke in this mateere,
|
|
|
730
To telle
yow hir wordes and hir cheere,
|
|
|
Ne thogh I
speke hir wordes proprely.
|
|
|
For this
ye knowen also wel as I,
|
|
|
Whoso shal
telle a tale after a man,
|
|
|
He moot
reherce
as ny
as evere he kan
|
|
|
735
Everich a
word, if it be in his charge,
|
|
|
Al
speke he never so rudeliche
or large,
|
|
|
Or ellis
he moot
telle his tale untrewe,
|
|
|
Or feyne
thyng, or fynde wordes newe.
|
|
|
He may nat
spare, al thogh he were his brother;
|
|
|
740
He moot
as wel seye o word as another.
|
|
|
Crist spak
hymself ful
brode
in hooly
writ,
|
|
|
And, wel
ye woot,
no vileynye
is it.
|
|
|
Eek
Plato seith, whoso kan hym rede,
|
|
|
The wordes
moote be cosyn to the dede.
|
|
|
745
Also I
prey yow to foryeve
it me,
|
|
|
Al have I
nat set folk in hir degree
|
|
|
Heere in
this tale, as that they sholde stonde.
|
|
|
My wit
is short, ye may wel understonde.
|
|
|
|