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Knight’s Tale: Faculty of English, October 2007
You are lucky to be reading Chaucer. For many of you, this will be
the first time that you have encountered his work. Read him deeply
and long: he is a very great poet indeed, and you may well go away
from that reading saying, why did nobody tell us about this before? He
is capable across six and a half centuries of giving you – me, us
moderns - enormous pleasure, formidable intellectual challenges, and
he is neither an easy poet or a comfortable one. But he is, above all,
fun, and the pursuit of rational pleasure is one of the things a
University education ought to be about.
Most moderns come to Chaucer through the Canterbury Tales, which
do contain his most approachable work, though few people read them
all. Now, a lot changes in 600 years. Chaucer’s audience, or
Shakespeare’s did not think of the self in the same way as we do, and
were far less interested in what we call ‘characters’: they were in fact
more concerned with the roles people play, and the imperatives those
impose on them, than the Freudian self. So PLEASE DO NOT USE
‘Character’ as the only way into mediaeval and renaissance fiction.
And equally, naturalism or realism, which we value highly, were
constructed differently then. This does not mean one approach is
better than the other, just that we will get far more out of old art if we
make an honest attempt to understand how it was expected to work.
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After all, our attitudes and expectations, and certainties, are going to
look pretty dated even twenty years from now.
Chaucer’s contemporary reputation, and for a century after his death,
in fact, rested more on Troilus and Criseyde than on the unfinished
CT about which, be it said, he seems constantly to have changed his
mind over the longish period when he was working on it. For CT is an
experimental work, for which there are few if any models, and before
we can look at the Knight’s Tale it’s important to have some idea of
CT as a whole.
2. CT is a frame* story… that is, a series of stories within a story – a
form which immediately allows the possibility of layering of irony
and complex cross allusion. Examples might be Ovid’s
Metamorphoses, which Chaucer knew well, or in his own period
Boccaccio’s Decamerone, or Gower’s Confessio Amantis. But
Chaucer’s radical innovation was to make the tellers of his stories a
cross section of the society of his day, including and transcending the
conventional division of society into the three estates*of those who
work, those who fight, and those who pray. And then he places them
on a highly symbolic yet naturalistic pilgrimage, starting from a real
inn in Southwark not pulled down till 1830, kept by a real landlord.
Lots of metafictional bells are being rung. Pilgrimage is the one area
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in that highly rank-ordered mediaeval society where a Knight could
rub shoulders with a Miller. By this device Chaucer gave himself the
opportunity to give each teller a tale that would be decorous* to him
or her: in all decorum, a Knight might not tell a scatological fabliau,
or a Miller a dignified and philosophical romance, and usually those
two extremes of high seriousness and belly laugh would be kept
rigidly apart in literary experience. But the cleverness of Chaucer’s
use of the pilgrimage frame and its collection of all sorts and
conditions of men is that he can make different genres of narrative,
normally kept distinct, bump up against and knock sparks off each
other. Thus your expectations of what those different genres will, and
can, do is challenged. One of the most interesting facts about the
design of CT as we have it is that all the forms of narrative available
to a mediaeval poet are represented in it, and in no other work are they
held within the umbrella of a larger story with its own beginning,
middle, and unfinished end: a story, in fact, which is, at least partly,
about storytelling.
3. KT may well predate the conception of CT, as it certainly predates
most of the tales.
The tales are decorous to their tellers; but clearly Chaucer’s ideas of
the possibilities of the teller/tale relationship did develop, as we can
see from his probable change to the tale given the WoB, from the
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MillT or the Pard T. Yet Ship T has a female narrator, 2nd Nun does
not even appear in Prol, and the tale has a male narrator, and Nun’s
Priest is not described in Prol. So leave the ‘biographical’/’character’
link of tales to tellers on one side. If you play it here, you make the
Knight a time traveller: the narrator says he saw the temples built for
the arena in Book III. The Knight never wrote anything: he was
himself written. Decorum is the more than adequate key for the time
being. But no tales are indecorous.
4. Even so look at portrait of Kt in Prol in Ellesmere MS:
2 SLIDEs
Gen Prologue line 43ff.
A KNYGHT ther was, and that a worthy
man,
That fro the tyme that he first bigan
To riden out, he loved chivalrie,
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisie.
Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre,
And therto hadde he riden, no man ferre,
As wel in cristendom as in hethenesse,
And evere honoured for his worthynesse.
At Alisaundre he was, whan it was
wonne.
Ful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bigonne
Aboven alle nacions in Pruce;
In Lettow hadde he reysed, and in Ruce,
No Cristen man so ofte of his degree.
In Gernade at the seege eek hadde he be
Of Algezir, and riden in Belmarye.
At Lyeys was he and at Satalye,
Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete
See
At many a noble armee hadde he be.
At mortal batailles hadde he been fiftene,
A KNIGHT there was, and what a gentleman
Who, from the moment that he first began
To ride about the world, loved chivalry,
Truth, honour, freedom and all courtesy.
Full worthy was he in his sovereign's war,
And therein had he ridden, no man more,
As well in Christendom as heathenesse,
And honoured everywhere for worthiness.
At Alexandria, in the winning battle he was
there;
Often put in the place of honour, a chair.
Above all nations' knights in Prussia.
In Latvia raided he, and Russia,
No christened man so oft of his degree.
In far Granada at the siege was he
Of Algeciras, and in Belmarie.
At Ayas was he and at Satalye
When they were won; and on the Middle Sea
At many a noble meeting chanced to be.
Of mortal battles he had fought fifteen,
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And foughten for oure feith at
Tramyssene
In lystes thries, and ay slayn his foo.
This ilke worthy knyght hadde been also
Somtyme with the lord of Palatye
Agayn another hethen in Turkye.
And everemoore he hadde a sovereyn
prys;
And though that he were worthy, he was
wys,
And of his port as meeke as is a mayde.
He nevere yet no vileynye ne sayde
In al his lyf unto no maner wight.
He was a verray, parfit gentil knyght.
But, for to tellen yow of his array,
His hors were goode, but he was nat gay.
Of fustian he wered a gypon
Al bismotered with his habergeoun,
For he was late ycome from his viage,
And wente for to doon his pilgrymage.
And he'd fought for our faith at Tramissene
Three times in duels, always killed his foe.
This self-same worthy knight had been also
At one time with the lord of Palatye
Against another heathen in Turkey:
And always won he widespread fame for
prize.
Though so strong and brave, he was very
wise
And of temper as meekly as a maid.
He never yet had any vileness said,
In all his life, to whatsoever wight.
He was a truly perfect, noble knight.
But now, to tell you all of his array,
His steeds were good, but he was not gaily
dressed.
A tunic of simple cloth he possessed
Discoloured and stained by his habergeon;
For he had lately returned from his voyage
And now was going on this pilgrimage.
a) The first thing we notice is the stress on the Crusades; many
Englishmen were on them – Henry Bolingbroke fought with the
Teutonic Knights in Lettow and Pruce: this makes it seem very close
to home.
b) Kt puts down marker for all other Kts in CT; as does Clerk for
Clerk, Sq for Sqs.
He is a textbook example of the selfless use of arms in legitimate or
Just War in the defence of Christendom, as recommended by the
theologians and all too rarely followed in practice. Hence the Knight
provides a benchmark for the practice of arms and power in KT. A lot
of contemporary debate about concepts of and application of Chivalry,
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chivalric values, the uses of arms – a problem, given that at the
forefront of most English and French people’s minds was the terrible
war between those two countries, Christian against Christian, in which
the strategic aims of each side were the destruction or their opponent’s
tax base that paid for the war, which meant the burning of the
countryside and the terrible suffering that inflicted on the poor and the
peasants. It is on just such a raid that the Knight’s son, the attractive
Squire,
SLIDE
has been, and the point for point contrast, without comment, of those
two descriptionss alerts us to the important way in which juxtaposition
in mediaeval art is a way of generating meaning. So those
comfortable abstract nouns – freedom, trouthe, honour, courtesy which are so reassuring become problematic as soon as we have to put
them up against specific situations, actions and choices. We all
approve of ‘trouthe’ in the abstract, but how each of us might define it
when in an example on the ground might be much more of a problem.
I’d suggest to you that one reason for Ch beginning with the portrait
of Kt is that it does in fact lay out the ground for much of the detailed
discussion of those very issues in the tales that follow. What is a true,
courteous, honourable action? Is there an absolute value? Or is the
world, are human beings, much messier, much more ambivalent than
those ideals might have us believe? In other words, do the abstract
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words by which we value things have any real meaning, and how do
they operate?
So to KT:
Sources:
Chaucer could not have written this poem, or Troilus and Criseyde,
without very detailed knowledge indeed of Boethius’ Consolation of
Philosophy*, of which he made a translation at about this time. He
also draws on Statius’ late Latin epic the Thebaid, and for his plot on
part of the narrative of Boccaccio’s Teseida (Chaucer follows it
almost word for word in some passages, which raises questions about
how we should think about originality and translation in pre-modern
writing and art) and uses it to address questions that were highly
controversial to Chaucer’s contemporaries, as well as of enduring
importance, of Fortune, Free Will, Predestination – and power of love
sexual, political and cosmic. It is no accident, any more than it was for
Shax, that Theseus marries an Amazon, and that Emily is also an
Amazon: Amazons traditionally subvert all normal ideas of gender
and sexual politics, while Theseus is configured as the paradigmatic
male knight, conqueror and just ruler. That puts those issues on the
table too.
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Setting
It’s deliberately set in a remote, Classical Pagan period, plugging in to
two of the great Classical stories, the Fall of Thebes and the career of
Theseus.
Setting it in a pagan world has the great advantage that a priori
Christian escape routes are ruled out for characters in the poem: issues
of destiny, fortune, freewill, suffering – as important now as they ever
were - have to be worked out from first principles with no recourse to
the consolations of Christian religion and revelation.
Shax went back to this poem twice, in MSND and 2NK.
Summary
Not a lot happens in a poem of 2250 lines.
In Book I, Theseus, after conquering the Amazons, punishes the
wrongdoing of Creon King of Thebes, and in that battle two Theban
knights, bosom friends, Palamon and Arcite, are taken prisoner. From
their prison window, they see Emily, sister of the Amazon Queen,
walking in the garden, and both fall in love with her: They quarrel.
Then, by the intercession of Theseus’ friend Pirithous, Arcite is
released, but banished from Athens on pain of death. Palamon remains
in prison.
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In Book 2 Arcite returns to Athens disguised as Philostrate, and
serves Theseus and Emily. Palamon escapes from prison, and hides in
a grove near the court, to which Arcite comes to lament his hopeless
love. He is overheard by Palomon. The two quarrel. Courteously
Arcite goes to get Palomon weapons, and next day they meet to fight
to the death. But Theseus, out hunting, finds them, and is disposed to
execute them both for breaching his laws. But, at the intercession of
the ladies, he relents, and points out the comedy of them fighting for a
woman who does not even know they exist. He decrees that they each
collect a hundred knights, and a year hence have a tournament to
decide who will have Emily to wife.
Book 3 opens by describing the lists and the temples Theseus erects to
Mars* [Handout on planetary gods], Venus* and Diana*. The
companies of knights are described, and the three principals pray:
Arcite to Mars, god of war, for victory, Palamon to Venus goddess of
love for Emily as his wife, and Emily to Diana, goddess of chastity
but also of the moon and fortune, for continued virginity. Venus and
Mars each promise what their worshipper asks: Diana tells Emily she
must be wedded. The scene switches to the heavens, where the gods
are quarrelling about what seem to be their irreconcilable promises.
Saturn*, figuring Time, imposes peace, and promises that each will be
vindicated.
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Book IV sees Arcite’s victory, but then his sudden death after a fall
from his horse, startled by a fury sent by Saturn. After his funeral,
Theseus decides on a final peace with Thebes, to cement which he
sends for Palomon and marries him to Emily. His final speech (wholly
Chaucer’s addition, without precedent in Boccaccio), draws heavily
on Boethius, and offers an overview of the narrative we have just
heard: It’s analysed on the handout*. Thus can narrative be made to
figure, and to TEST, philosophical concerns.
**********
The poem begins when a war has just finished, and Hippolyta has
been won by Theseus’ sword, and immediately another war, a Just
War according to mediaeval definitions, is undertaken against Thebes.
The peace between Athens and Thebes is only finally made when
Palamon takes Emily as his wife – not, note, because she loves her, or
she him, but because by such marriage Theseus can achieve a political
settlement. Love and politics are never far apart in medieval and
renaissance life or literature. It is an age when love, real or literary, is
politicised and politics is eroticized. And order in the heavens, order
in the state, can be conceptualized and figured in human marriage, the
concord of a discord, the balancing of Mars and Venus – to quote,
among others, Lucretius, and the painting Botticelli* derived from the
opening of his great poem on the Nature of Things
SLIDE venus and Mars
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and Shakespeare
Structure and design
The poem is designed, like most mediaeval poetry, to be heard by a
listening, plural, audience, many of whom the poet might know. And
that immediately raises the question of performance, of body language
and of all those things we can never know about poetry that is heard.
But that orality does not exclude a single reader later, of course, and
we must recognise the sophisticated anticipation of those two quite
distinct audiences, working in different ways, in all mediaeval court
poetry.
But I want you to watch for the importance of structure and narrative
blocks, the clear marking of the structure of the tale, so that a listening
audience, not all of whom will be paying attention at the same time,
can grasp the narrative. This is a normal feature of mediaeval narrative
an art: you see how it is built, and we are never allowed to forget that
the tale is a construct, with certain issues highlighted by its form.
It’s a long poem, of high seriousness, signalled not only by its length
and high diction, but also by its division into four books, on the model
of Classical epic. (successive afternoons? Each book takes something
over half an hour to read aloud, and each except the last ends with an
unresolved question or issue as a sort of trailer to keep audience
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discussion going. The last book’s closure, however, is curiously
guarded, and asks us to reconsider the nature of the imaginative
experience we have just had and what we thought we had learned
from it. It’s interesting that the supposedly final overview of the tale is
provided not with the narrator’s authority, but through the voice of a
character in the Tale, who is himself part of the pattern he claims to
understand.
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Knight’s Tale: outline structure
Book 1: opening:
Book 1 (end):
Theseus and Ypolita
Paradox: irreconcilable
|
Marriage/reconciliation of
conflict: partial view of
|
strife between warring realms
|
LOVE
|
|
|
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Book II (end):
Theseus’ ironic glance
|
|
at randomness of
|
|
|
|
|
LOVE
|
Theseus’ control;
|
|
|
Theseus as agent of
|
|
|
‘destinee’
|
|
|
|
|
|
Book III (end):
Irreconcilable conflicts
|
|
|
of gods’ promises
|
|
|
Saturn’s
control.
|
|
A rational mechanism
|
|
for the ‘destinee’
|
|
Theseus exemplifies at
|
|
the
end
of
II
|
|
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Book IV (end):
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Egeus’ speech on
|
|
random
|
|
‘transmutacioun’(where
|
Boccaccio leaves the
|
tale)
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Theseus’ speech on
|
ultimate purpose and
|
|
LOVE
Book IV (close)
|
Palamon and Emelye
|
Marriage/reconciliation of
|
strife between warring realms
Leading to an
–
overview of whole
Tale, reflecting on it
as ‘storie’, on our
sequential perception
of it, and on Theseus
as ruler and knight
LOVE,
order,
control
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Issues:
Love and Friendship* (ideas of Friendship)
Love and politics
Power (Theseus and the Gods) Just Ruler
Fortune and Destiny
SLIDE
COMMENTARY
1. First sight of Emily
SLIDE
1033ff.
This passeth yeer by yeer and day by day,
Till it fil ones, in a morwe of May
That Emelye, that fairer was to sene
Than is the lylie upon his stalke grene,
And fressher than the may with floures newe -For with the rose colour stroof hire hewe,
I noot which was the fyner of hem two -Er it were day, as was hir wone to do,
She was arisen and al redy dight;
For may wole have no slogardie a-nyght.
The sesoun priketh every gentil herte,
And maketh hym out of his slep to sterte,
And seith arys, and do thyn observaunce.
This maked emelye have remembraunce
To doon honour to may, and for to ryse.
Yclothed was she fressh, for to devyse
Hir yelow heer was broyded in a tresse
Bihynde hir bak, a yerde long, I gesse.
And in the gardyn, at the sonne upriste,
She walketh up and doun, and as hire liste
She gadereth floures, party white and rede,
To make a subtil gerland for hire hede;
And as an aungel hevenysshly she soong.
The grete tour, that was so thikke and stroong,
Which of the castel was the chief dongeoun,
(ther as the knyghtes weren in prisoun
Of which I tolde yow and tellen shal)
Was evene joynant to the gardyn wal
Ther as this emelye hadde hir pleyynge.
Bright was the sonne and cleer that morwenynge,
And palamoun, this woful prisoner,
As was his wone, by leve of his gayler,
Was risen and romed in a chambre an heigh,
In which he al the noble citee seigh,
And eek the gardyn, ful of braunches grene,
Ther as this fresshe emelye the shene
Was in hire walk, and romed up and doun.
This sorweful prisoner, this palamoun,
Thus passed by year by year and day by day,
Till it fell out, upon a morn in May,
That Emily, far fairer to be seen
Than is the lily on its stalk of green,
And fresher than is May with flowers new
(For with the rose's colour strove her hue,
I know not which was fairer of the two),
Before the dawn, as was her wont to do,
She rose and dressed her body for delight;
For May will have no sluggards of the night.
That season rouses every gentle heart
And forces it from winter's sleep to start,
Saying: "Arise and show thy reverence."
So Emily remembered to go thence
In honour of the May, and so she rose.
Clothed, she was sweeter than any flower that blows;
Her yellow hair was braided in one tress
Behind her back, a full yard long, I guess.
And in the garden, as the sun up-rose,
She sauntered back and forth and through each close,
Gathering many a flower, white and red,
To weave a delicate garland for her head;
And like a heavenly angel's was her song.
The tower tall, which was so thick and strong,
And of the castle was the great donjon,
(Wherein the two knights languished in prison,
Of whom I told and shall yet tell, withal),
Was joined, at base, unto the garden wall
Whereunder Emily went dallying.
Bright was the sun and clear that morn in spring,
And Palamon, the woeful prisoner,
As was his wont, by leave of his gaoler,
Was up and pacing round that chamber high,
From which the noble city filled his eye,
And, too, the garden full of branches green,
Wherein bright Emily, fair and serene,
Went walking and went roving up and down.
This sorrowing prisoner, this Palamon,
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Goth in the chambre romynge to and fro,
And to hymself compleynynge of his wo.
That he was born, ful ofte he seyde, allas!
And so bifel, by aventure or cas,
That thurgh a wyndow, thikke of many a barre
Of iren greet and square as any sparre,
He cast his eye upon emelya,
And therwithal he bleynte and cride, a!
As though he stongen were unto the herte.
And with that cry arcite anon up sterte,
And seyde, cosyn myn, what eyleth thee,
That art so pale and deedly on to see?
Why cridestow? who hath thee doon offence?
For goddes love, taak al in pacience
Oure prisoun, for it may noon oother be.
Fortune hath yeven us this adversitee.
Som wikke aspect or disposicioun
Of saturne, by som constellacioun,
Hath yeven us this, although we hadde it sworn;
So stood the hevene whan that we were born.
We moste endure it; this is the short and playn.
This palamon answerde and seyde agayn
Cosyn, for sothe, of this opinioun
Thow hast a veyn ymaginacioun.
This prison caused me nat for to crye,
But I was hurt right now thurghout myn ye
Into myn herte, that wol my bane be.
The fairnesse of that lady that I see
Yond in the gardyn romen to and fro
Is cause of al my criyng and my wo.
I noot wher she be womman or goddesse,
But venus is it soothly, as I gesse.
And therwithal on knees doun he fil,
And seyde venus, if it be thy wil
Yow in this gardyn thus to transfigure
Bifore me, sorweful, wrecched creature,
Out of this prisoun help that we may scapen.
And if so be my destynee be shapen
By eterne word to dyen in prisoun,
Of oure lynage have som compassioun,
That is so lowe ybroght by tirannye.
And with that word arcite gan espye
Wher as this lady romed to and fro,
And with that sighte hir beautee hurte hym so,
That, if that palamon was wounded sore,
Arcite is hurt as muche as he, or moore.
And with a sigh he seyde pitously
The fresshe beautee sleeth me sodeynly
Of hire that rometh in the yonder place,
And but I have hir mercy and hir grace,
That I may seen hire atte leeste weye,
I nam but deed; ther nis namoore to seye.
This palamon, whan he tho wordes herde,
Dispitously he looked and answerde,
Wheither seistow this in ernest or in pley?
Nay, quod arcite, in ernest, by my fey!
Being in the chamber, pacing to and fro,
And to himself complaining of his woe,
Cursing his birth, he often cried "Alas!"
And so it was, by chance or other pass,
That through a window, closed by many a bar
Of iron, strong and square as any spar,
He cast his eyes upon Emilia,
And thereupon he blenched and cried out "Ah!"
As if he had been smitten to the heart.
And at that cry Arcita did up-start,
Asking: "My cousin, why what ails you now
That you've so deathly pallor on your brow?
Why did you cry out? Who's offended you?
For God's love, show some patience, as I do,
With prison, for it may not different be;
Fortune has given this adversity.
Some evil disposition or aspect
Of Saturn did our horoscopes affect
To bring us here, though differently 'twere sworn;
But so the stars stood when we two were born;
We must endure it; that, in brief, is plain."
This Palamon replied and said again:
"Cousin, indeed in this opinion now
Your fancy is but vanity, I trow.
It's not our prison that caused me to cry.
But I was wounded lately through the eye
Down to my heart, and that my bane will be.
The beauty of the lady that I see
There in that garden, pacing to and fro,
Is cause of all my crying and my woe.
I know not if she's woman or goddess;
But Venus she is verily, I guess."
And thereupon down on his knees he fell,
And said: "O Venus, if it be thy will
To be transfigured in this garden, thus
Before me, sorrowing wretch, oh now help us
Out of this prison to be soon escaped.
And if it be my destiny is shaped,
By fate, to die in durance, in bondage,
Have pity, then, upon our lineage
That has been brought so low by tyranny."
And on that word Arcita looked to see
This lady who went roving to and fro.
And in that look her beauty struck him so
That, if poor Palamon is wounded sore,
Arcita is as deeply hurt, and more.
And with a sigh he said then, piteously:
"The virgin beauty slays me suddenly
Of her that wanders yonder in that place;
And save I have her pity and her grace,
That I at least may see her day by day,
I am but dead; there is no more to say."
This Palamon, when these words he had heard,
Pitilessly he watched him, and answered:
"Do you say this in earnest or in play?"
"Nay," quoth Arcita, "earnest, now, I say!
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God help e me so, me list ful yvele pleye.
This palamon gan knytte his browes tweye.
It nere, quod he, to thee no greet honour
For to be fals, ne for to be traitour
To me, that am thy cosyn and thy brother
Ysworn ful depe, and ech of us til oother,
That nevere, for to dyen in the peyne,
Til that the deeth departe shal us tweyne,
Neither of us in love to hyndre oother,
Ne in noon oother cas, my leeve brother;
But that thou sholdest trewely forthren me
In every cas, as I shal forthren thee, -This was thyn ooth, and myn also, certeyn;
I woot right wel, thou darst it nat withseyn.
Thus artow of my conseil, out of doute,
And now thow woldest falsly been aboute
To love my lady, whom I love and serve,
And evere shal til that myn herte sterve.
Nay, certes, false arcite, thow shalt nat so.
I loved hire first, and tolde thee my wo
As to my conseil and my brother sworn
To forthre me, as I have toold biforn.
For which thou art ybounden as a knyght
To help en me, if it lay in thy myght,
Or elles artow fals, I dar wel seyn.
This arcite ful proudly spak ageyn
Thow shalt, quod he, be rather fals than I;
And thou art fals, I telle thee outrely,
For paramour I loved hire first er thow.
What wiltow seyen? thou woost nat yet now
Wheither she be a womman or goddesse!
Thyn is affeccioun of hoolynesse,
And myn is love, as to a creature;
For which I tolde thee myn aventure
As to my cosyn and my brother sworn.
I pose that thow lovedest hire biforn;
Wostow nat wel the olde clerkes sawe,
That "who shal yeve a lovere any lawe?"
Love is a gretter lawe, by my pan,
Than may be yeve to any erthely man;
And therfore positif lawe and swich decree
Is broken al day for love in ech degree.
A man moot nedes love, maugree his heed.
He may nat fleen it, thogh he sholde be deed,
Al be she mayde, or wydwe, or elles wyf.
And eek it is nat likly al thy lyf
To stonden in hir grace; namoore shal I;
For wel thou woost thyselven, verraily,
That thou and I be dampned to prisoun
Perpetuelly; us gayneth no raunsoun.
We stryve as dide the houndes for the boon;
They foughte al day, and yet hir part was noon.
Ther cam a kyte, whil that they were so wrothe,
And baar awey the boon bitwixe hem bothe.
And therfore, at the kynges court, my brother,
Ech man for hymself, ther is noon oother.
God help me, I am in no mood for play!"
Palamon knit his brows and stood at bay.
"It will not prove," he said, "to your honour
After so long a time to turn traitor
To me, who am your cousin and your brother,
Sworn as we are, and each unto the other,
That never, though for death in any pain,
Never, indeed, till death shall part us twain,
Either of us in love shall hinder other,
No, nor in any thing, O my dear brother;
But that, instead, you shall so further me
As I shall you. All this we did agree.
Such was your oath and such was mine also.
You dare not now deny it, well I know.
Thus you are of my party, beyond doubt.
And now you would all falsely go about
To love my lady, whom I love and serve,
And shall while life my heart's blood may preserve.
Nay, false Arcita, it shall not be so.
I loved her first, and told you all my woe,
As to a brother and to one that swore
To further me, as I have said before.
For which you are in duty bound, as knight,
To help me, if the thing lie in your might,
Or else you're false, I say, and downfallen."
Then this Arcita proudly spoke again:
"You shall," he said, "be rather false than I;
And that you're so, I tell you utterly;
For par amour I loved her first, you know.
What can you say? You know not, even now,
Whether she is a woman or goddess!
Yours is a worship as of holiness,
While mine is love, as of a mortal maid;
Wherefore I told you of it, unafraid,
As to my cousin and my brother sworn.
Let us assume you loved her first, this morn;
Know you not well the ancient writer's saw
Of 'Who shall give a lover any law?'
Love is a greater law, aye by my pan,
Than man has ever given to earthly man.
And therefore statute law and such decrees
Are broken daily and in all degrees.
A man must needs have love, maugre his head.
He cannot flee it though he should be dead,
And be she maid, or widow, or a wife.
And yet it is not likely that, in life,
You'll stand within her graces; nor shall I;
For you are well aware, aye verily,
That you and I are doomed to prison drear
Perpetually; we gain no ransom here.
We strive but as those dogs did for the bone;
They fought all day, and yet their gain was none.
Till came a kite while they were still so wroth
And bore the bone away between them both.
And therefore, at the king's court, O my brother,
It's each man for himself and not for other.
17
Love, if thee list, for I love and ay shal;
And soothly, leeve brother, this is al.
Heere in this prisoun moote we endure,
And everich of us take his aventure.
Love if you like; for I love and aye shall;
And certainly, dear brother, that is all.
Here in this prison cell must we remain
And each endure whatever fate ordain."
Great was the strife, and long, betwixt the two,
If I had but the time to tell it you,
2. Set pieces of temples: Venus’s Temple
SLIDE : from van Eyck
3 slides from Mittelalterliches Hausbuch –
Luna,
Mars
Venus
Venus – naked fletynge in a se
- the iconographic tradition that descends to Botticelli, Birth of
Venus, and beyond.
- Back to Hausbuch
1918ff.
First in the temple of venus maystow se
Wroght on the wal, ful pitous to biholde,
The broken slepes, and the sikes colde,
The sacred teeris, and the waymentynge,
The firy strokes of the desirynge
That loves servantz in this lyf enduren;
The othes that hir covenantz assuren;
Plesaunce and hope, desir, foolhardynesse,
Beautee and youthe, bauderie, richesse,
Charmes and force, lesynges, flaterye,
Despense, bisynesse, and jalousye,
That wered of yelewe gooldes a gerland,
And a cokkow sittynge on hir hand;
Festes, instrumentz, caroles, daunces,
Lust and array, and alle the
circumstaunces
Of love, which that I rekned and rekne
shal,
By ordre weren peynted on the wal,
And mo than I kan make of mencioun.
For soothly al the mount of citheroun,
Ther venus hath hir principal dwellynge,
Was shewed on the wal in portreyynge,
First, in the fane of Venus, one might see,
Wrought on the wall, and piteous to behold,
The broken slumbers and the sighing cold,
The sacred tears and the lamenting dire,
The fiery throbbing of the strong desire,
That all love's servants in this life endure;
The vows that all their promises assure;
Pleasure and hope, desire, foolhardiness,
Beauty, youth, bawdiness, and riches, yes,
Charms, and all force, and lies, and flattery,
Expense, and labour; aye, and Jealousy
That wore of marigolds a great garland
And had a cuckoo sitting on her hand;
Carols and instruments and feasts and dances,
Lust and array, and all the circumstances
Of love that I may reckon or ever shall,
In order they were painted on the wall,
Aye, and more, too, than I have ever known.
For truly, all the Mount of Citheron,
Where Venus has her chief and favoured
dwelling,
Was painted on that wall, beyond my telling,
With all the gardens in their loveliness.
18
With al the gardyn and the lustynesse.
Nat was foryeten the porter, ydelnesse,
Ne narcisus the faire of yore agon,
Ne yet the folye of kyng salomon,
Ne yet the grete strengthe of ercules -Th-enchauntementz of medea and circes -Ne of turnus, with the hardy fiers corage,
The riche cresus, kaytyf in servage.
Thus may ye seen that wysdom ne richesse,
Beautee ne sleighte, strengthe ne
hardynesse,
Ne may with venus holde champartie,
For as hir list the world than may she gye.
Lo, alle thise folk so caught were in hir las,
Til they for wo ful ofte seyde allas!
Suffiseth heere ensamples oon or two,
And though I koude rekene a thousand
mo.
The statue of venus, glorious for to se,
Was naked, fletynge in the large see,
And fro the navele doun al covered was
With wawes grene, and brighte as any glas.
A citole in hir right hand hadde she,
And on hir heed, ful semely for to se,
A rose gerland, fressh and wel smellynge;
Above hir heed hir dowves flikerynge.
Biforn hire stood hir sone cupido;
Upon his shuldres wynges hadde he two,
And blynd he was, as it is often seene;
A bowe he bar and arwes brighte and
kene.
Nor was forgot the gate-guard Idleness,
Nor fair Narcissus of the years long gone,
Nor yet the folly of King Solomon,
No, nor the giant strength of Hercules,
Nor Circe's and Medea's sorceries,
Nor Turnus with his hardy, fierce courage,
Nor the rich Croesus, captive in his age.
Thus may be seen that wisdom, nor largess,
Beauty, nor skill, nor strength, nor hardiness,
May with Queen Venus share authority;
For as she wills, so must the whole world be.
Lo, all these folk were so caught in her snare
They cried aloud in sorrow and in care.
Here let suffice examples one or two,
Though I might give a thousand more to you.
The form of Venus, glorious as could be,
Was naked, floating on the open sea,
And from the navel down all covered was
With green waves, bright as ever any glass.
A citole in her small right hand had she,
And on her head, and beautiful to see,
A garland of red roses, sweet smelling,
Above her swirled her white doves,
fluttering.
Before her stood her one son, Cupido,
Whose two white wings upon his shoulders
grow;
And blind he was, as it is often seen;
A bow he bore, and arrows bright and keen.
3. Theseus last speech. structure
2987ff.
The firste moevere of the cause above,
Whan he first made the faire cheyne of love,
Greet was th' effect, and heigh was his entente.
Wel wiste he why, and what thereof he mente;
For with that faire cheyne of love he bond
The fyr, the eyr, the water, and the lond
In certeyn boundes, that they may nat flee.
That same prince and that moevere, quod he,
Hath stablissed in this wrecched world adoun
Certeyne dayes and duracioun
To al that is engendred in this place,
"The Primal Mover and the Cause above,
When first He forged the goodly chain of love,
Great the effect, and high was His intent;
Well knew He why, and what thereof He meant;
For with that goodly chain of love He bound
The fire, the air, the water, and dry ground
In certain bounds, the which they might not flee;
That same First Cause and Mover," then quoth
he,
"Has stablished in this base world, up and down,
A certain length of days to call their own
19
Over the whiche day they may nat pace,
Al mowe they yet tho dayes wel abregge.
Ther nedeth noght noon auctoritee t' allegge,
For it is preeved by experience,
But that me list declaren my sentence.
Thanne may men by this ordre wel discerne
That thilke moevere stable is and eterne.
Wel may men knowe, but it be a fool,
That every part dirryveth from his hool;
For nature hath nat taken his bigynnyng
Of no partie or cantel of a thyng,
But of a thyng that parfit is and stable,
Descendynge so til it be corrumpable.
And therfore, of his wise purveiaunce,
He hath so wel biset his ordinaunce,
That speces of thynges and progressiouns
Shullen enduren by successiouns,
And nat eterne, withouten any lye.
This maystow understonde and seen at ye.
Loo the ook, that hath so long a norisshynge
From tyme that it first bigynneth to sprynge,
And hath so long a lif, as we may see,
Yet at the laste wasted is the tree.
Considereth eek how that the harde stoon
Under oure feet, on which we trede and goon,
Yet wasteth it as it lyth by the weye.
The brode ryver somtyme wexeth dreye;
The grete tounes se we wane and wende.
Thanne may ye se that al this thyng hath ende.
Of man and womman seen we wel also
That nedes, in oon of thise termes two,
This is to seyn, in youthe or elles age,
He moot be deed, the kyng as shal a page;
Som in his bed, som in the depe see,
Som in the large feeld, as men may see;
Ther helpeth noght, al goth that ilke weye.
Thanne may I seyn that al this thyng moot deye.
What maketh this but juppiter, the kyng,
That is prince and cause of alle thyng,
Convertynge al unto his propre welle
From which it is dirryved, sooth to telle?
And heer-agayns no creature on lyve,
Of no degree, availleth for to stryve.
Thanne is it wysdom, as it thynketh me,
To maken vertu of necessitee,
And take it weel that we may nat eschue,
And namely that to us alle is due.
And whoso gruccheth ought, he dooth folye,
And rebel is to hym that al may gye.
And certeinly a man hath moost honour
To dyen in his excellence and flour,
For all that are engendered in this place,
Beyond the which not one day may they pace,
Though yet all may that certain time abridge;
Authority there needs none, I allege,
For it is well proved by experience,
Save that I please to clarify my sense.
Then may men by this order well discern
This Mover to be stable and eterne.
Well may man know, unless he be a fool,
That every part derives but from the whole.
For Nature has not taken his being
From any part and portion of a thing,
But from a substance perfect, stable aye,
And so continuing till changed away.
And therefore, of His Wisdom's Providence,
Has He so well established ordinance
That species of all things and all progressions,
If they'd endure, it must be by successions,
Not being themselves eternal, 'tis no lie:
This may you understand and see by eye.
"Lo now, the oak, that has long nourishing
Even from the time that it begins to spring,
And has so long a life, as we may see,
Yet at the last all wasted is the tree.
"Consider, too, how even the hard stone
Under our feet we tread each day upon
Yet wastes it, as it lies beside the way.
And the broad river will be dry some day.
And great towns wane; we see them vanishing.
Thus may we see the end to everything.
"Of man and woman just the same is true:
Needs must, in either season of the two,
That is to say, in youth or else in age,
All men perish, the king as well as page;
Some in their bed, and some in the deep sea,
And some in the wide field- as it may be;
There's naught will help ; all go the same way.
Aye,
Then may I say that everything must die.
Who causes this but Jupiter the King?
He is the Prince and Cause of everything,
Converting all back to that primal well
From which it was derived, 'tis sooth to tell.
And against this, for every thing alive,
Of any state, avalls it not to strive.
"Then is it wisdom, as it seems to me,
To make a virtue of necessity,
And calmly take what we may not eschew,
And specially that which to all is due.
Whoso would balk at aught, he does folly,
And thus rebels against His potency.
20
Whan he is siker of his goode name;
Thanne hath he doon his freend, ne hym, no
shame.
And gladder oghte his freend been of his deeth,
Whan with honour up yolden is his breeth,
Than whan his name apalled is for age,
For al forgeten is his vassellage.
Thanne is it best, as for a worthy fame,
To dyen whan that he is best of name.
The contrarie of al this is wilfulnesse.
Why grucchen we, why have we hevynesse,
That goode arcite, of chivalrie the flour,
Departed is with duetee and honour
Out of this foule prisoun of this lyf?
Why grucchen heere his cosyn and his wyf
Of his welfare, that loved hem so weel?
Kan he hem thank? nay, God woot, never a deel,
That both his soule and eek hemself offende,
And yet they mowe hir lustes nat amende.
What may I conclude of this longe serye,
But after wo I rede us to be merye,
And thanken juppiter of al his grace?
And er that we departen from this place
I rede that we make of sorwes two
O parfit joye, lastynge everemo.
And looketh now, wher moost sorwe is herinne,
Ther wol we first amenden and bigynne.
Suster, quod he, this is my fulle assent,
With al th' avys heere of my parlement,
That gentil palamon, youre owene knyght,
That serveth yow with wille herte, and myght,
And ever hath doon syn ye first hym knewe,
That ye shul of youre grace upon hym rewe,
And taken hym for housbonde and for lord.
Lene me youre hond, for this is oure accord.
Lat se now of youre wommanly pitee.
He is kynges brother sone, pardee;
And though he were a povre bacheler,
Syn he hath served yow so many a yeer,
And had for yow so greet adversitee,
It moste been considered, leeveth me;
For gentil mercy oghte to passen right.
Structure of Theseus’ speech:
And certainly a man has most honour
In dying in his excellence and flower,
When he is certain of his high good name;
For then he gives to friend, and self, no shame.
And gladder ought a friend be of his death
When, in much honour, he yields up his breath,
Than when his name's grown feeble with old age;
For all forgotten, then, is his courage.
Hence it is best for all of noble name
To die when at the summit of their fame.
The contrary of this is wilfulness.
Why do we grumble? Why have heaviness
That good Arcita, chivalry's fair flower,
Is gone, with honour, in his best-lived hour.
Out of the filthy prison of this life?
Why grumble here his cousin and his wife
About his welfare, who loved them so well?
Can he thank them? Nay, God knows, not! Nor
tell
How they his soul and their own selves offend,
Though yet they may not their desires amend.
"What may I prove by this long argument
Save that we all turn to merriment,
After our grief, and give Jove thanks for grace.
And so, before we go from out this place,
I counsel that we make, of sorrows two
One perfect joy, lasting for aye, for you;
And look you now, where most woe is herein,
There will we first amend it and begin.
"Sister," quoth he, "you have my full consent,
With the advice of this my Parliament,
That gentle Palamon, your own true knight,
Who serves you well with will and heart and
might,
And so has ever, since you knew him firstThat you shall, of your grace, allay his thirst
By taking him for husband and for lord:
Lend me your hand, for this is our accord.
Let now your woman's pity make him glad.
For he is a king's brother's son, by gad;
And though he were a poor knight bachelor,
Since he has served you for so many a year,
And borne for you so great adversity,
This ought to weigh with you, it seems to me,
For mercy ought to dominate mere right."
21
(2980ff, just before the speech.: Note Theseus' dignity, and the clever way in which
Chaucer signals to us that this speech is going to be important.)
NB Line numbers of analysis on handout are 857 out
2987-3002: Proposition 1: the God who created and sustains all is loving, and in his
loving providence has ordered different things with different tendencies justly and
fairly, using Time as one of his tools. Time and Change is part of his pattern.
3003-3016: Proposition 2: the part is necessarily less perfect than the whole.
Recognition of imperfection presupposes a perfection from which it must derive. The
imperfect is subject to time, the perfect is not 2159-76: Exemplification: four
examples of mortality and mutability.
3017-3033: Re-statement of first principle - God's absolute power and wisdom, using
change to achieve an ultimate good.
3034-3056: First (general) application: accept what cannot be changed anyway as part
of the basic paramerers of living. Death is not the only evil; a man dying (like Arcite)
at the height of Fortune is lucky, for if he lives on he can only decline from that point he has avoided pain and ignominy.
3057-3066: Second (specific) application: one must no longer mourn Arcite, delivered
from foule prisoun (sc. of this world).
3037-3073: Conclusion (general): accept, and act.
3074ff.:. Action: the political and emotional marriage that makes parfit joye out of
sorwes two.