1
The Monk’s Tale
2
The Epilogue of the Tale of Melibee
and
Prologue to the Tale of the Monk
The Pilgrim Chaucer has just ended his tale of Melibee and Prudence. The Host
contrasts Prudence, the wife of Melibee, with Goodelief, his own wife. Prudence is the
incarnation of her own name; Goodlief (Good-Beloved) is the opposite of hers.
1890
1900
1910
1920
When ended was my tale of Melibee,
And of Prudénce and her benignity,
Our Hostė said: “As I am faithful man,
And by that precious corpus madrian,
I had lever than a barel ale
That Goodėlief, my wife, had heard this tale!
For she n’is no thing of such patience
As was this Melibeus’ wife Prudence.
By Goddė’s bonės! when I beat my knaves,
She brings me forth the great clobbėd staves,
And crieth, — ‛Slay the doggės every one,
And break them, bothė back and every bone! ’-And if that any neighėbor of mine
Will not in churchė to my wife incline,
Or be so hardy to her to trespass,
When she comes home, she rampeth in my face,
And crieth, — ‛Falsė coward, wreak thy wife!
By corpus bonės, I will have thy knife,
And thou shalt have my distaff and go spin! ’—
From day to night right thus she will begin.
‛Alas!’ — she says, —‛ that ever I was shape
To wed a milksop, or a coward ape,
That will be overled with every wight!
Thou darest not standen by thy wife’s right! ’ —
“This is my life, but if that I will fight;
And out at door anon I must me dight,
Or else I am but lost, but if that I
Be like a wildė lion, fool-hardy.
I wot well she will do me slay some day
Some neighbor, and then go my way;
For I am perilous with knife in hand,
Albeit that I dare not her withstand,
goodness
corpus m. = (a mangled oath)
I’d prefer
n’is = isn’t
knobbed sticks
bow to
unwise as to offend her
avenge
(another mangled oath)
fated
mastered by everyone
unless I
must hurry
I know she’ll make me
3
For she is big in armės, by my faith:
That shall he find that her misdoth or saith, -But let us pass away from this mattér.
crosses her in act or word
He calls on the Monk for a tale.
When the Host calls on this man to tell a tale he also makes good-humored fun of him,
especially his substantial, well-fed figure, and his potential sexual capacity.
1930
1940
1950
My lord, the monk,” quod he, “be merry of cheer,
For you shall tell a tale truly.
Lo, Rochester stands here fastė by!
Ride forth, mine ownė lord, break not our game.
But, by my truth, I knowė not your name.
Whe’r shall I call you my lord Daun John,
Or Daun Thomas, or elsė Daun Alban?
Of what house be you, by your father’s kin?
I vow to God, thou hast a full fair skin;
It is a gentle pasture there thou goest.
Thou art not like a penitent or ghost.
Upon my faith, thou art some officer,
Some worthy sexton, or some cellarer,
For by my father’s soul, as to my doom,
Thou art a master when thou art at home;
No poor cloisterer, nor no novice,
But a governor, wily and wise,
And therewithal of brawnės and of bones,
A well faring person for the nones.
I pray to God, give him confusion
That first thee brought unto religion!
Thou wouldst have been a treadė-fowl aright.
Hadst thou as great a leave, as thou hast might,
To perform all thy lust in engendrure,
Thou hadst begotten full many a creätúre.
Alas, why wearest thou so wide a cope?
God give me sorrow, but, an’ I were pope,
Not only thou, but every mighty man,
close by
what monastery
(there’s good food)
monastic offices
in my judgement
poor monk
a fine looking p., I declare
bad luck to the one
made you a monk
a good hen-rider
in begetting (children)
You would have b.
clerical cloak
if I were
4
1960
Though he were shorn full high upon his pan, 1
Should have a wife; for all the world is lorn!
Religion hath take up all the corn
Of treading, and we borel men been shrimps.
Of feeble trees there comen wretched imps.
This maketh that our heirs been so slender
And feeble that they may not well engender.
This maketh that our wivės will assay
Religious folk, for you may better pay
Of Venus’ payments than may we;
God wot, no lusshėburghers payen ye!
But be not wroth, my lord, though that I play.
Full oft in game a sooth I have heard say! ”
deprived
all the best quality
laymen
offshoots
want to try
no bad coins
be not angry ...I joke
in jest a truth
The Monk takes the joking in good part, but disappoints the Host’s expectations somewhat
by promising to tell a saint’s life, or a string of tragedies.
1970
1980
This worthy monk took all in patience,
And said: “I will do all my diligence,
As far as souneth into honesty,
To tellė you a tale, or two, or three.
And if you list to hearken hitherward,
I will you say the life of Saint Edward;
Or else, first, tragedies will I tell,
Of which I have a hundred in my cell.
Tragedy is to say a certain story,
As oldė bookės maken us memóry,
Of him that stood in great prosperity,
And is y-fallen out of high degree
Into misery, and endeth wretchedly.
And they been versified commonly
Of six feet, which men clepe hexametron.
In prose eke been endited many a one,
And eke in meter, in many a sundry wise.
Lo, this declaring ought enough suffice.
Now hearkneth, if you liketh for to hear.
But first I you beseech in this mattér,
Though I by order tellė not these things,
Be it of popes, emperors, or kings,
1
if you choose
are called hexameters
have been written
“Even if his hair is cut high on his head” a reference to the monastic tonsure, the large spot where the
hair was cut away on a monk’s head.
5
1990
After their ages, as men written find,
But tell them some before and some behind,
As it now comes unto my remembrance,
Have me excusėd of mine ignorance.
in chronological order
Portrait of the Monk from the General Prologue
The Monk , like the Prioress, is supposed to stay in his monastery but, like her, finds excuses to
get away from it.
165
A MONK there was, a fair for the mastery,
An outrider that lovėd venery.1
a very fine fellow
horseman / hunting
A manly man to be an abbot able,
Full many a dainty horse had he in stable,
And when he rode, men might his bridle hear
170
Jingle in a whistling wind as clear
And eke as loud as does the chapel bell
And also
2
Where / annex
There as this lord is keeper of the cell.
175
The rule of Saint Maur or of Saint Bennett
[monastic] rule
Because that it was old and somedeal strait
somewhat strict
This ilkė monk let oldė thingės pass
And held after the newė world the space.
He gave not of that text a pullėd hen
This same / go
modern ways now
plucked
That says that hunters be not holy men
Nor that a monk, when he is reckless,
180
careless of rules
Is likened to a fish that's waterless,
That is to say, a monk out of his cloister.
But thilkė text held he not worth an oyster.
1
monastery
this saying he thought
166: venery: both "hunting" and the work of Venus, goddess of love. This description of the Monk is
larded with sexual innuendo.
2
172: The lordly monk is in charge of an annex (cell) of the monastery.
6
The poet pretends to agree with his lax views
185
And I said his opinïon was good;
I = narrator
What! Should he study and make himselfen wood
himself mad
Upon a book in cloister always to pore?
Or swinken with his handės and labóur
or work
As Austin bids? How shall the world be served?
Let Austin have his swink to him reserved.
St Augustine
1
His taste in sport and clothes
Therefore he was a prickasour aright.
190
Greyhounds he had as swift as fowl in flight.
Of pricking and of hunting for the hare
Was all his lust, for no cost would he spare.
I saw his sleevės purfled at the hand
With gris, and that the finest of the land,
195
hunter, for sure
tracking
his passion
edged at the wrist
fur
And for to fasten his hood under his chin
He had of gold y-wrought a full curious pin —
very elaborate
A love knot on the greater end there was.
His physical appearance
His head was bald, that shone as any glass
200
And eke his face, as he had been anoint.
also / as if oiled
He was a lord full fat and in good point,
in good health
His eyen steep and rolling in his head
eyes prominent
That steamėd as a furnace of a lead,
1
lead furnace
188: "Let Augustine keep his work." An unbecoming way for a monk to speak of the great saint whose
rule, like that of St. Maurus and St. Benedict (Maur and Bennett, 173) prescribed study and physical labor for
monks.
7
His boots supple, his horse in great estate.
Now certainly he was a fair prelate.
205
He was not pale as is a forpined ghost.
in great shape
a fine cleric
tortured
A fat swan loved he best of any roast.
His palfrey was as brown as any berry.
horse
Introduction to the Monk’s Tale
The Monk’s tale is in the tradition of a genre dear to the Middle Ages : De Casibus
Illustrium Virorum, “ The Fall of Great Men.” This was generally embodied in an
anecdotal collection which answered and illustrated at some length another favorite
literary question: Ubi Sunt qui ante nos fuerunt ? “Where are those (great ones) who
went before us?” These tropes occur mostly in connection with a number of interrelated
themes and conventions including the Wheel of Fortune, which gets frequent mention in
the Monk’s tale.
The Ubi Sunt formula dates back at least to the late classical Boethius, and is widely
diffused in medieval literature in its Latin form and in various vernaculars, in both sacred
and profane writing. It is perhaps best known to most readers in the form of Villon's
famous refrain "Et ou sont les neiges d'antan?" or "Where are the snows of yesteryear?”
in Rossetti's 19th-century rendering in The Ballade of Dead Ladies. Another well-known
medieval version goes like this:
Where is Paris and Heleyne
P & Helen of Troy
That were so bright and fair on blee?
of face
Amadas and Dideyne,
Tristram, Isold and allė they?
("Luve Ron" 13 C).
The answer of course, which is often implied rather than stated, is that the people are
dead, as we will all be, and the snows are gone. The great, whether good or tyrannical,
have no more grave space than the rest of us who have to live in obscurity or under
tyrants.
In The Peterborough Anglo-Saxon Chronicle the entry for the year 1087 — 300 years
8
before Chaucer — records the death of William the Conqueror thus: he went to
Normandy where "sharp death, which spares neither rich man nor poor, seized him. ... He
who had been king and lord of many lands now had no more land than seven feet. And
he who had been clothed with gold and with gems lay covered with mold." Sic transit
gloria mundi (Thus passes the glory of the world).
Most of the details in Chaucer’s tale assigned to the Monk derive from Boccaccio’s
books: De Casibus Illustrium Virorum (About the Fall of Great Men) and De Claris
Mulieribus (About Famous Women), though Chaucer oddly assigns Petrarch as his
source. Other examples come from Boethius and from one of Chaucer ‛s favorite
sources, the Roman de la Rose, a long 13th century French poem.
The “Modern Instances” of the two kings Pedro and of Bernabo Visconti come either
from Chaucer’s own personal knowledge or from contemporaries who knew of these
events, which occurred in Chaucer’s lifetime. Some manuscripts place the “Modern
Instances” in their chronological order at the end, some after Zenobia. Donald Fry
speculated that placing them at the end would also give a reasonable excuse for the
Knight to interrupt since he had served under the King of Cyprus at the taking of
Alexandria, and did not like hearing of his commander’s sad end.
As a tale, the Monk’s string of tragedies is not a success, for the simple reason that it
completely lacks development. It starts out of this world with Lucifer and then goes from
Adam to contemporary events in a straight line where nothing leads to anything else,
things just follow one another in what probably started out as a chronological order that
gets more than a little confused, as the monk (or Chaucer) seems to realize (line 1984-88
above). But chronology hardly matters; you could put the incidents and individuals in
reverse order and it would make little difference. What has happened is that Chaucer or
the Monk has taken a book “in his cell” that was probably meant to provide examples to
a preacher, who could pick and choose what was most apt for his sermon, but Chaucer (or
the Monk) has failed to pick and choose; he has simply set down one anecdote after the
other with equal emphasis, all illustrating the same notion — the instability of Fortune’s
Wheel.
The effect is sometimes unfortunate. If the innocent or worthy get punished like the
guilty, is this anything more than a fatalistic rather than a Christian view of life? Ugolino,
here presented as innocent, dies miserably with his innocent children just as the
unspeakable Nero does. How did the virtuous Seneca, who never had worldly power,
deserve his fate? Both the Kings Peter in the Modern Instances are “worthy.” Moral: the
9
worthy and the criminal come to the same end on earth. But there is no mention of
heavenly reward for the innocent. Hardly an elevating conclusion from a monk.
The only story in the Monk’s series that succeeds as a story is the moving tale of Ugolino
(taken from the more powerful tale in Dante). Here finally we see some of the skill in
evoking pathos at which Chaucer can be such a master. None of the other tales elicits
any emotion remotely similar.
The tale that follows the Monk’s, that of the Nun’s Priest, shows just how a collection of
exempla should be used to tell a well-knit tale. This preacher knows how to use
examples, long and short, to help his plot or character-building, not to read or sound like
a dull, depressing litany. The Monk has some of the building blocks of a good sermon or
exemplary tale; the Nun’s Priest knows how to put such raw material together into a
strong and pleasing structure.
The Monk’s Tale
I will bewail, in manner of tragedy,
The harm of them that stood in high degree,
And fell so that there n’as no remedy
To bring them out of their adversity.
For certain, when that Fortune list to flee,
There may no man the course of her withhold.
Let no man trust on blind prosperity;
Beware by these examples true and old.
high place
n’as = wasn’t
wishes to
Lucifer
At Lucifer, though he an angel were,
2000 And not a man, at him will I begin.
For though Fortuna may no angel dere,
From high degree yet fell he for his sin
Down into Hell, where he yet is in.
O Lucifer, brightest of angels all,
Now art thou Satanas, that mayst not twinn
Out of misery, in which that thou art fall.
hurt
escape
10
Adam
2010
Lo Adam, in the field of Damascene,
With Goddė’s ownė finger wrought was he,
And not begotten of man’s sperm unclean,
And welt all paradise, saving one tree.
Had never worldly man so high degree
As Adam, till he for misgovernance
Was driven out of his high prosperity
To labour, and to Hell, and to mischance.
near Damascus
made
And ruled all p. except for
Samson
2020
2030
Lo Sampson, which that was annunciate
By th' angel, long ere his nativity,
And was to God Almighty consecrate,
And stood in noblesse while he mightė see.
Was never such another as was he,
To speak of strength, and therewith hardiness;
But to his wivės told he his secree,
Through which he slew himself for wretchedness.
Sampson, this noble almighty champion,
Withouten weapon, save his handės tway,
He slew and all to-rentė the lion,
Toward his wedding walking by the way.
His falsė wife could him so please and pray
Till she his counsel knew; and she, untrue,
Unto his foes his counsel gan betray,
And him forsook, and took another new.
Three hundred foxes took Sampson for ire,
And all their tails he together bound,
And set the foxes’ tails all on fire,
For he on every tail had knit a brand;
And they burned all the corn in that land,
And all their oliveres, and vinės eke.
A thousand men he slew eke with his hand,
And had no weapon but an ass’s cheek.
When they were slain, so thirsted him that he
announced
secret
2 hands
tore apart
& cajole
tied a burning stick
olive groves
11
2040
2050
2060
2070
Was well nigh lorn, for which he gan to pray
That God would on his pain have some pity,
And send him drink, or elsė must he die;
And of this ass’s cheekė, that was dry,
Out of a wang-tooth sprang anon a well,
Of which he drank enough, shortly to say;
Thus helped him God, as Judicum can tell.
By very force at Gaza, on a night,
Maugre Philistiens of that city,
The gatės of the town he hath up plight,
And on his back y-carried them hath he
High on a hill whereas men might them see.
O noble, almighty Sampson, lief and dear,
Had thou not told to women thy secree,
In all this world ne haddė been thy peer!
nearly dead
molar
Book of Judges
In spite of P.
plucked up
beloved
secrets
This Sampson never ciser drank nor wine,
Ne on his head came razor none nor shears,
By precept of the messenger divine,
For all his strengthės in his hairės were.
And fully twenty winters, year by year,
He had of Israel the governance.
But soonė shall he weepė many a tear,
For women shall him bringen to mischance!
liquor
Unto his lemman Dalida he told
That in his hairės all his strengthė lay,
And falsely to his foemen she him sold.
And sleeping in her barm, upon a day,
She made to clip or shear his hairs away,
And made his foemen all his craft espy;
And when that they him found in this array,
They bound him fast and putten out his eyes.
his lover
But ere his hair were clippėd or y-shave,
There was no bond with which men might him bind;
But now is he in prison in a cave,
Where-as they made him at the quernė grind.
O noble Samson, strongest of mankind,
O whilom judge, in glory and in richesse!
her lap
his strength
this condition
grind corn at the mill
onetime judge
12
Now mayst thou weepen with thine eyen blind,
Since thou from weal art fall in wretchedness.
2080
2090
The end of this captive was as I shall say. ???
His foemen made a feast upon a day,
And made him as their fool before them play;
And this was in a temple of great array.
But at the last he made a foul affray;
For he two pillars shook and made them fall,
And down fell temple and all, and there it lay, -And slew himself, and eke his foemen all.
from success
splendor
terrible trouble
and also
This is to say, the princes every one,
And eke three thousand bodies, were there slain
With falling of the great temple of stone.
Of Samson now will I no morė sayn.
Beware by this example old and plain
That no men tell their counsel to their wives
Of such thing as they would have secret fain,
If that it touch their limbės or their lives.
Hercules
2100
Of Hercules, the sovereign conqueror,
Singen his workės laud and high renown;
For in his time of strength he was the flower.
He slew, and reft the skin of the lion; 1
He of Centaurus laid the boast adown;
He Harpies slew, the cruel birdės fell;
He golden apples reft of the dragon;
He drew out Cerberus, the hound of hell;
He slew the cruel tyrant Busirus,
And made his horse to frete him, flesh and bone;
He slew the fiery serpent venomous;
Of Achelous’ two hornės he broke one;
And he slew Cacus in a cave of stone;
He slew the giant Antaeus the strong;
1
his works sing his praise & r.
and tore
took from
to chew
The list of the labors of Hercules as set out here is largely derived from Boethius’s Consolations of
Philosophy, Bk iv, Meter 7
13
2110
He slew the grisly boar, and that anon;
And bore the heaven on his neckė long.
Was never wight, since that this world began,
That slew so many monsters as did he.
Throughout this widė world his namė ran,
What for his strength and for his high bounty,
And every realm went he for to see.
He was so strong that no man might him let.
At both the worldė’s endės, saith Trophee,
In stead of boundės he a pillar set. 1
2120
2130
A lemman had this noble champion,
That hightė Dianira, fresh as May;
And as these clerkės maken mentïon,
She hath him sent a shirtė, fresh and gay.
Alas! this shirt, alas and welaway!
Envenomed was so subtly withall,
That ere that he had weared it half a day,
It made his flesh all from his bonės fall.
person
he was famous
generosity
stop him
A lover
was called
scholars
But natheless some clerkės her excusen
By one that hightė Nessus that it maked. 2
Be as be may, I will her not accusen;
But on his back this shirt he weared naked,
Till that his flesh was for the venom blaked.
And when he saw no other remedy,
In hot coals he hath himselfen rakėd,
For with no venom deignėd him to die.
some scholars
was called
Thus starved this worthy, mighty Hercules.
Lo, who may trust on Fortune any throw?
For him that follows all this world of press,
Ere he be ware, is oft y-laid full low.
Thus died
time
upper ranks ?
blackened
1
The Pillars of Hercules are the Straits of Gibraltar in the west and the Dardanelles or the Bosphorus in
the east, the outer bounds of the ancient Mediterranean world.
2
Dianira did not know the shirt was poisoned. She had been tricked by the dying Nessus into thinking
that a garment soaked in his centaur’s blood would ensure her husband’s lasting love. The poisoned shirt caused
Hercules such agony that he burned himself on a pyre.
14
2140
Full wise is he that can himselfen know!
Beware, for when that Fortune list to glose,
Then waiteth she her man to overthrow
By such a way as he would least suppose.
wants to seduce
Nebuchadnezzar
2150
The mighty throne, the precious treasure,
The glorious sceptre, and royal majesty
That had the King Nabucodonozor
With tongue unnethė may describėd be. 1
He twice won Jerusalem the city.
The vessel of the temple he with him led.
At Babylon was his sovereign see,
In which his glory and his delight he had.
The fairest children of the blood royal
Of Israel he let do geld anon,
And maked each of them to be his thrall
Amongest others Danïel was one
That was the wisest child of every one;
For he the dreamės of the king expounded,
Whereas in Chaldee clerk ne was there none
That wistė to what fine his dreamės sounėd. 2
2160
This proudė king let make a statue of gold, 3
Sixty cubits long and seven in breadth;
To which imagė bothė young and old
Commanded he to lout, and have in dread,
Or in a furnace, full of flamės red,
He shall be burnt that wouldė not obey.
But never would assentė to that deed
Daniel, nor his youngė fellows tway.
1
chief seat
he had them castrated
wisest of all
no scholar in C.
to bow
two comrades
The stories of Nebuchnezzar and Belshazzar are told in the Book of Daniel. Nebuchadnezzar was
punished by being reduced to the condition of a beast of the fields; Belshazzar was overcome by Darius when he
defiled the sacred vessels of the Jewish temple.
2
2158: “That knew what his dreams meant.”
3
2159: “Ordered a gold statue made”.
15
2170
2180
This king of kings proud was and elate;
He wend that God that sits in majesty,
Ne might him not bereave of his estate.
But suddenly he lost his dignity,
And like a beast him seemėd for to be,
And ate hay as an ox, and lay thereout
In rain; with wildė beastės walkėd he,
Till certain timė was y-come about.
And like an eagle’s feathers waxed his hairs;
His nailės like a birdės clawės were;
Till God releasėd him a certain years,
And gave him wit, and then with many a tear
He thankėd God, and ever his life in fear
Was he to do amiss or more trespass;
And till that time he laid was on his bier,
He knew that God was full of might and grace.
he thought
deprive
his hairs grew
intelligence
in his coffin
Belshazzar
2190
His son, which that hightė Balthasar,
That held the regne after his father’s day,
He by his father couldė not be ware,
For proud he was of heart and of array;
And eke an idoláster was he ay.
His high estate assurėd him in pride;
But Fortune cast him down, and there he lay,
And suddenly his regnė gan divide.
the kingdom
behavior
idolater
kingdom
A feast he made unto his lordės all,
Upon a time, and bade them blithė be;
And then his officers began he call:
“Go, bringeth forth the vessels,” quod he,
Which that my father in his prosperity
Out of the temple of Jerusalem bereft;
And to our highė godės thankė we
Of honor that our elders with us left.”
2200
His wife, his lordės, and his concubines
Ay dranken, while their appetitės last,
lasted
16
Out of these noble vessels sundry wines.
And on a wall this king his eyen cast,
And saw a hand, armless, that wrote full fast,
For fear of which he quoke and sighėd sore.
This hand, that Balthasár so sore aghast,
Wrote Mane, Techel, Phares, and no more.
2210
2220
2230
In all that land magicïan was none
That could expoundė what this letter meant;
But Danïel expounded it anon,
And saidė, “King, God to thy father lent
Glory and honor, regne, treasure, rent;
And he was proud, and nothing God ne dread,
And therefore God great wretch upon him sent,
And him bereft the regnė that he had.
he shook
scared B. badly
dreaded
vengeance
“He was out cast of man’s company;
With asses was his habitatïon,
And ate hay as a beast in wet and dry,
Till that he knew, by grace and by reason,
That God of heaven hath dominatïon
O’er every regne and every creätúre;
And then had God of him compassïon,
And him restored his regne and his figúre.
“Eke thou that art his son art proud also,
And knowest all these thingės verily,
And art rebel to God, and art his foe.
Thou drank eke of his vessels boldėly;
Thy wife eke, and thy wenches, sinfully
Drank of the same vessels sundry winės;
And heriest falsė goddės cursedly;
Therefore to thee y-shapen full great pine is.
“This hand was sent from God that on the wall
Wrote Mane, Techel, Phares, trustė me;
Thy reign is done, thou weighest naught at all.
Divided is thy regne, and it shall be
To Medes and to Persians given,” quod he.
And thilkė samė night this king was slaw,
And Darius occupieth his degree,
Though he thereto had neither right nor law.
And worship
punishment is destined
thy kingdom
was killed
his place
17
2240
Lordings, example hereby may you take
How that in lordship is no sikerness;
For when Fortuna will a man forsake,
She bears away his regne and his richesse,
And eke his friendės, bothė more and less.
For what man that hath friendės through Fortúne,
Mishap will make them enemies, I guess;
This proverb is full sooth and full commúne.
no certainty
true and universal
Zenobia
2250
2260
2270
Zenobia, of Palmyra the queen,
As written Persïans of her noblesse,
So worthy was in armės and so keen,
That no wight passėd her in hardiness,
Nor in lineage, nor in other gentillesse.
Of kinge’s blood of Persia she’s descended.
I say not that she haddė most fairness,
But of her shape she might not be amended.
From her childhood I findė that she fled
Office of women, and to woods she went,
And many a wildė hart’s blood she shed
With arrows broadė that she to them sent.
She was so swift that she anon them hent;
And when that she was elder, she would kill
Lions, leopards, and bearės all to-rent,
And in her arms them wielded at her will.
She durstė wildė beastės’ dens seek,
And runnen in the mountains all the night,
And sleepen under a bush, and she could eke
Wrestlen, by very force and very might,
With any young man, were he ne’er so wight.
There mightė nothing in her armės stand.
She kept her maidenhood from every wight;
To no man deignėd her for to be bound. 1
But at the last her friendės have her married
To Odenake, a prince of that country,
1
She would not agree to marry any man .
breeding
greatest beauty
Women’s work
w. deer’s
overtook them
tore apart
She dared
athletic
every man
18
Al were it so that she them longė tarried.
And you shall understand how that he
Had suche fantasies as had she. 1
But natheless, when they were knit in-fere,
They lived in joy and in felicity;
For each of them had other lief and dear.
2280
2290
2300
Save one thing, that she would never assent,
By no way, that he should by her lie
But once, for it was her plain intent
To have a child, the world to multiply;
And also soon as that she might espy
That she was not with child with that deed
Then would she suffer him do his fantasy
Eft-soon, and not but oncė, out of dread.
And if she were with child at thilkė cast,
No more should he playen thilkė game
Till fully forty weekės weren past;
Then would she oncė suffer him do the same.
Al were this Odenakė wild or tame,
He got no more of her, for thus she said,
It was to wives lechery and shame,
In other case, if that men with them played.
Two sons by this Odenake had she,
The which she kept in virtue and lettrúre;
But now unto our talė turnė we.
I say, so worshipful a creätúre,
And wise therewith, and largė with measúre,
So penible in the war, and courteous eke,
Ne morė labour might in war endure
Was none, 2 though all this world men should seek.
Her rich array ne mightė not be told,
As well in vessel as in her clothing.
She was all clad in perree and in gold,
And eke she leftė noght, for no hunting,
To have of sundry tongues full knowing
1
He felt the same as she did, about marriage.
2
“No one could exert more effort in a war (than she) ...”
delayed
bound together
held the other beloved &
have sex with her
let him mate with her
Again / no question
with that copulation
allow him
whether he liked it or not
played (sexually)
learning
generous but in moderation
enduring
display
jewels
did not neglect
learn various languages
19
2310
When that she leisure had; and for t’intend
To learnen bookės was all her liking,
How she in virtue might her life dispend.
And shortly of this story for to treat,
So doughty was her husband and eke she,
That they conquered many regnės great
In the orient, with many a fair city
Apertenant unto the majesty
Of Rome, and with strong hand held them full fast,
Ne never might their foemen do them flee,
Ay while that Odenake’s dayės last.
2320
2330
2340
Her battles, whoso list them for to read,
Against Sapor the king and others mo’,
And how that all this process fell in deed,
Why she conquered, and what title had thereto,
And after, of her mischief and her woe,
How that she was besiegėd and y-take, -Let him unto my master Petrarch go,
That writ enough of this, I undertake.
When Odenake was dead, she mightily
The regnes held, and with her proper hand
Against her foes she fought so cruelly
That there n’as king ne prince in all that lond
That he n’as glad, if he that gracė found,
That she ne would upon his land werrey. 1
With her they made alliances by bond
To be in peace, and let her ride and play.
The emperor of Romė, Claudius
Ne him before, the Roman Galien,
Ne durste never been so courageous,
Ne no Armenian, ne no Egyptian,
Ne Syrian, ne no Arabian,
Within the field that durstė with her fight,
Lest that she would them with her handės slain,
Or with her meinee putten them to flight.
1
So that she would not attack their lands.
so valiant
many kingdoms
pertaining to
make them flee
While O. was alive
whoever wants to
her own
her army
20
2350
In kingė’s habit went her sons two,
As heirės of their father’s regnės all,
And Hermanno and Thymalo
Their namės were, as Persïans them call.
But ay Fortune hath in her honey gall;
This mighty queenė may no while endure.
Fortune out of her regnė made her fall
To wretchedness and to misáventúre.
Aurelian, when that the governance
Of Rome came into his handės tway,
He shope upon this queen to do vengeance.
And with his legïons he took his way
Toward Zenobie, and shortly for to say,
He made her flee, and at the last her hent,
And fettered her, and eke her children tway,
And won the land, and home to Rome he went.
2360
2370
Amongest other thingės that he won,
Her char that was with gold wrought and perree,
This greatė Roman, this Aurelian,
Hath with him led, for that men should it see.
Beforen his triumphė walketh she,
With giltė chainės on her neck hanging.
Crownėd was she, as after her degree,
And full of perree chargėd her clothing.
Alas, Fortuna! she that whilom was
Dreadful to kingės and to emperors,
Now gaureth all the people on her, alas!
And she that helmėd was in starkė stours,
And won by forcė townės strong and towers,
Shall on her head now wear a vitremyte; 1
And she that bore the sceptre full of flowers
Shall bear a distaff, her cost for to quite
mixes bitter with sweet
two
He planned
seized her
chariot / gems
gems
was once
Now gawk
stiff battles
woman’s hat ?
to pay for her keep
Pedro of Castille
O noble, O worthy Pedro, glory of Spain,
1
Probably a feminine headdress, possibly of a housewife or servant, in contrast to the masculine helmet
she used to wear. Boccaccio contrasts the helmet with the veil, the sceptre with the distaff, a staff for spinning
wool, a household task always performed by women. .
21
2380
2390
Whom Fortune held so high in majesty,
Well oughten men thy piteous death complain!
Out of thy land thy brother made thee flee,
And after, at a siege, by subtlety,
Thou were betrayed and led unto his tent,
Where as he with his ownė hand slew thee,
Succeeding in thy regne and in thy rent.
The field of snow, with th' eagle of black therein,
Caught with the lime rod colored as the gleed, 1
He brewed this cursedness and all this sin.
The wicked nest was worker of this need. 2
Not Charles’ Oliver, that took ay heed
Of truth and honor, but of Armorike
Ganelon-Oliver, corrupt for meed,
Broughte this worthy king in such a brike.
kingdom & revenues
like read coal
Charlemagne’s
Brittany
corrupted by money
plight
Pedro King of Cyprus 3
O worthy Petro, king of Cyprus, also,
That Alexandria won by high mastery,
Full many a heathen wroughtest thou full woe,
Of which thine ownė liegės had envy,
And for no thing but for thy chivalry
They in thy bed have slain thee by the morrow.
Thus can Fortúne her wheel govérn and gye,
And out of joyė bringen men to sorrow.
captured Alexandria
Barnabo (Visconti) of Lombardy
2400
Of Milan great Barnabo Viscounte,
God of delight, and scourge of Lombardy,
1
This refers to the coat of arms of Bertrand du Guesclin who lured Pedro into the tent where he was
murdered in 1369. The arms showed a black eagle standing on a red baton (lime rod) in a silver (snowy) ground.
2
Apparently a play on the name of another of Pedro’s betrayers, Oliver Mauny (mau ni or mal nid: bad
nest) who was from Armorica, or Brittany. Ganelon was the traitor that betrayed Roland and Oliver who were
leading the rearguard of Charlemagne’s army at Roncevalles as related in the Song of Roland. His name, like that
of Judas, was a byword for treachery.
3
Pierre de Lusignan, King of Cyprus, captured Alexandria from the Muslims in 1365 during a crusade in
which a number of prominent Englishmen (cf. Chaucer’s fictional Knight of the pilgrimage) had taken part. He
was murdered by three of his own knights in 1369 apparently for oppressive rule.
guide
22
Why should I not thine infortúne account,
Since in estate thou climbėd were so high?
Thy brother’s son, that was thy double ally,
For he thy nephew was, and son-in-law,
Within his prison madė thee to die, -But why, nor how, n’ot I that thou wert slaw.
relate
slain
Ugelino of Pisa
2410
2420
2430
Of the Earl Ugeline of Pisa the langour
There may no tonguė tellė for pity.
But little out of Pisa stands a tower,
In which tower in prison put was he,
And with him been his little children three;
The eldest scarcely five year was of age.
Alas, Fortúne! it was great cruelty
Such birdės for to put in such a cage!
Damnėd was he to die in that prison,
For Roger, which that Bishop was of Pise,
Had on him made a false suggestïon,
Through which the people gan upon him rise,
And putten him to prison, in such wise
As you have heard, and meat and drinke he had
So small, that well unnethe it may suffise,
And therewithal it was full poor and bad.
And on a day befell that in that hour
When that his meat wont was to be brought,
The jailer shut the doorės of the tower.
He heard it well, but he spoke right nought,
And in his heart anon there fell a thought
That they for hunger wouldė do him die.
“Alas!” quod he, “alas, that I was wrought!”
Therewith the tearės fellen from his eyes.
His youngė son, that three years was of age,
Unto him said, “Father, why do you weep?
When will the jailer bringen our potáge?
Is there no morsel bread that you do keep?
I am so hungry that I may not sleep.
Now wouldė God that I might sleepen ever!
condemned
scarcely suffice
food
made, born
23
Then should not hunger in my wombė creep;
There is no thing, save bread, that me were lever.”
2440
2450
2460
Thus day by day this child began to cry,
Till in his father’s barm adown it lay,
And saidė, “Farewell, father, I must die! ”
And kissed his father, and died the samė day.
And when the woeful father dead it saw,
For woe his armės two he gan to bite,
And said, “Alas, Fortúne, and weylaway!
Thy falsė wheel my woe all may I wite.”
His children wend that it for hunger was
That he his armės gnawed, and not for woe,
And saidė, “Father, do not so, alas!
But rather eat the flesh upon us two.
Our flesh thou gave us, take oure flesh us fro’,
And eat enough, ”-- right thus they to him said,
And after that, within a day or two,
They laid them in his lap adown and died.
Himself, despaired, eke for hunger starved;
Thus ended is this mighty Earl of Pize.
From high estate Fortúne away him carved.
Of this tragedy it ought enough suffice;
Whoso will hear it in a longer wise,
Readeth the greatė poet of Itaille
That hightė Dante, for he can all devise
From point to point, not one word will he fail.
my belly
that I would rather have
lap
I blame
thought
from us
named Dante / relate
See Inferno 33, 1-90
Nero
2470
Although that Nero were as vicïous
As any fiend that lies full low adown,
Yet he, as tells us Suetonius,
This widė world had in subjectïon,
Both east and west, south, and septentrion.
Of rubies, saphires, and of pearlės white
Were all his clothes embroidered up and down;
For he in gemmės greatly gan delight.
More delicate, more pompous of array,
More proud was never emperor than he;
Any devil
and North
more splendid in dress
24
That ilkė cloth that he had weared one day,
After that time he n’ould it never see.
Nets of gold thread had he great plenty
To fish in Tiber, when him listė play.
His lustės were all law in his decree,
For Fortune as his friend him would obey.
2480
2490
2500
He Romė burnėd for his delicacy;
The senators he slew upon a day
To hearen how that men would weep and cry;
And slew his brother, and by his sister lay.
His mother made he in piteous array,
For he her wombe slittė to behold
Where he conceivėd was; so welaway!
That he so little of his mother told.
No tear out of his eyen for that sight
Ne came, but said, “A fair woman was she!”
Great wonder is how that he could or might
Be domesman of her dead beauty.
The wine to bringen him commanded he,
And drank anon, -- no other woe he made.
When might is joynėd unto cruelty,
Alas, too deepė will the venom wade!
In youth a master had this emperor
To teach him literature and courtesy,
For of morality he was the flower,
As in his timė, but if bookės lie;
And while this master had of him mastery,
He maked him so cunning and so supple
That longė time it was ere tyranny
Or any vicė durst on him uncouple.
This Seneca, of which that I devise,
Because Nero had of him such dread,
For he from vices would him ay chastise
Discreetly, as by word and not by deed, -“Sire,” would he say, “an emperor must need
Be virtuous and hatė tyranny -For which he in a bath made him to bleed
2510 On both his armės, till he mustė die.
wanted recreation
his wish was law
amusement
slept with
treated atrociously
valued
a beautiful
be judge
(master = Seneca)
be let loose
I tell you
always rebuke him
he =Nero; him = Seneca
25
This Nero had eek of accustumance
In youth against his master for to rise,
Which afterward him thought a great grievance;
Therefore he made him dien in this wise.
But natheless this Seneca the wise
Chose in a bath to die in this mannér
Rather than have another tormentise;
And thus hath Nero slain his master dear.
2520
2530
2540
Now fell it so that Fortune list no longer
The highė pride of Nero to cherish,
For though that he were strong, yet was she stronger.
She thoughtė thus, “By god! I am too nice
To set a man that is fulfilled of vice
In high degree, and emperor him call.
By god! out of his seat I will him trice.
When he least weeneth, soonest shall he fall.
The people rose upon him on a night
For his default, and when he it espied,
Out of his doors anon he hath him dight
Alone, and there he wend have been allied,
He knokkėd fast, and ay the more he cried,
The faster shuttė they the doorės all.
Then wist he well he had himself misgied,
And went his way; no longer durst he call.
The people cried and rumbled up and down,
That with his earės heard he how they said:
“Where is this falsė tyrant, this Nerown? ”
For fear almost out of his wit he breyd,
And to his goddės piteously he prayed
For succor, but it might not betide.
For dread of this, him thoughtė that he died,
And ran into a garden him to hide.
And in this garden found he churlės tway
That satten by a fire full great and red.
And to these churlės two he gan to pray
To slay him, and to girden off his head,
That to his body, when that he were dead,
in presence of his m.
torture
no longer wished
too foolish
pull him
least expects
For his vices
hastened
he thought he had friends
and ever
he knew he had midjudged
he went
for help
he would die
2 fellows
to cut
26
2550
Were no despite y-done for his defame. 1
Himself he slew, he could no better redde,
Of which Fortuna laughed, and had a game.
think of nothing better
made sport
Holofernes
Was never capitain under a king
That regnės more put in subjection,
Ne stronger was in field of allė thing,
As in his time, nor greater of renown,
Nor more pompous in high presumption
Than Holofernes, which Fortune ay kissed 2
So likerously, and led him up and down,
Till that his head was off, ere that he wist.
2560
2570
Not only that this world had him in awe
For losing of richesse or liberty,
But he made every man renege his law.
Nabuchodonosor was god, said he;
No other God should adorėd be.
Against his hestė no wight dare trespass,
Save in Bethulia, a strong city,
Where Eliachim a priest was of that place.
But take keep of the death of Holoferne:
Amid his host he drunken lay a-night,
Within his tent, large as is a barn,
And yet, for all his pomp and all his might,
Judith, a woman, as he lay upright
Sleeping, his head off smote, and from his tent
Full privily she stole from every wight,
And with his head unto her town she went.
general
subjected more kingdoms
more audaciously flamboyant
so lovingly
before he knew
for fear of losing
deny his faith
his order / disobey
prostrate
she slipped away
The Illustrious King Antiochus
What needeth it of king Anthiochus
To tellen his high royal majesty,
His high pride, his works venomous?
For such another was there none as he.
1
2
Nero is oddly concerned that his body not be dishonored after he is dead.
Holofernes, a general of Nabucadnezzar, who campaigned against Israel according to the book of Judith.
This Holofernes is not otherwise known to history..
27
2580
2590
Read which that he was in Machabee,
And read the proudė wordės that he said,
And why he fell from high prosperity,
And in a hill how wretchedly he died.
Fortúne him had enhancėd so in pride
That verily he wend he might attain
Unto the starrės upon every side,
And in [the] balance weighen each mountain,
And all the floodės of the sea restrain.
And God’s people had he most in hate;
Them would he slay in torment and in pain,
Weening that God ne might his pride abate.
And for that Nichanor and Timothy
Of Jewės weren vanquished mightily,
Unto the Jewės such an hate had he
That he bade grethe his char full hastily,
And swore, and said full despitously
Unto Jerusalem he would eftsoon,
To wreak his ire on it full cruelly;
But of his purpose he was let full soon.
2600
2610
God for his menace him so sorė smote
With invisible wound, ay incuráble,
That in his guts carved it so and bote
That his paines weren importáble.
And certainly the wreak was reasonáble,
For many a man’s guts did he pain.
But from his purpose cursėd and damnáble,
For all his smart, he would him not restrain,
But bade anon apparelen his host;
And suddenly, ere he was of it ’ware,
God daunted all his pride and all his boast.
For he so sorė fell out of his char
That it his limbes and his skin to-tore,
So that he neither mightė go nor ride,
But in a chairė men about him bore,
All for-bruisėd, bothė back and side.
The wreak of God him smote so cruelly
Bk of Macchabees
he really thought
Thinking / vanquish
2 generals
conquered by Jews
ordered his chariot readied
promptly
vent his anger
he was prevented
past tense of “bite”
insupportable
the punishment
caused he pain
in spite of his hurt
ordered his army made ready
chariot
walk or ride
carried him about
badly bruised
the punishment
28
2620
2630
That through his body wicked wormės crept,
And therewithal he stank so horribly
That none of all his meinee that him kept,
Whether so he woke, or elsė slept,
Ne mightė not the stink of him endure.
In this mischief he wailėd and eke wept,
And knew God lord of every creätúre.
To all his host and to himself also
Full wlatsom was the stink of his careyne;
No man ne might him bearė to nor fro.
And in this stink and this horrible pain,
He starved full wretchedly in a mountain.
Thus hath this robber and this homicide,
That many a man made to weep and ‛plain,
Such guerdon as belongeth unto pride.
his household
loathsome / carcass
he died
and murderer
that had made many ...
Such reward
Alexander the Great
The story of Alexander is so commúne
That every wight that hath discretïon
Hath heard somewhat or all of his fortúne.
This widė world, as in conclusïon,
He won by strength, or for his high renown
They weren glad for peace unto him send.
The pride of man and beast he laid adown,
Whereso he came, unto the worldė’s end.
2640
Comparison might never yet be makėd
Bitwixt him and another conqueror;
For all this world for dread of him hath quakėd.
He was of knighthood and of freedom flower;
Fortune him made the heir of her honour.
Save wine and women, no thing might assuage
His high intent in armės and labour,
So was he full of leonine couráge.
What praise were it to him, though I you told
Of Darius, and an hundred thousand mo’
Of kingės, pricės, dukės, earlės bold
2650 Which he conquered, and brought them into woe?
I say, as far as man may ride or go,
The world was his, -- what should I more devise?
For though I write or told you everemo’
well known
Wherever
of generosity
29
Of his knighthood, it mightė not suffice.
2660
Twelve years he reignėd, as saith Machabee.
Philip’s son of Macedon he was,
That first was king in Greecė the country.
O worthy, gentil Alexandre, alas,
That ever shouldė fallen such a cas!
Empoisoned of thine ownė folk thou were;
Thy six Fortúne hath turnėd into ace,1
And yet for thee ne wept she never a tear.
Who shall me given tearės to complain
The death of gentilesse and of franchise,
That all the world wielded in his domain,
And yet him thought it mightė not suffice
2670
gentil = high-born
high birth & generosity
had in his power
So full was his couráge of high emprise.
Alas! who shall me helpė to indict
False Fortune, and poison to despise,
The whichė two of all this woe I wite? 2
ambition
to
I blame for
Julius Caesar
By wisdom, manhood, and by great labour,
From humble bed to royal majesty
Up rose he Julius, the conqueror,
That won all th' occident by land and sea,
By strength of hand, or elsė by treaty,
And unto Rome made them tributary;
And sith of Rome the emperor was he,
Till that Fortuna waxed his adversáry.
2680
O mighty Caesar, that in Thessaly
Against Pompeus, father thine in law, 3
That of the orient had all the chivalry
1
the West
And afterwards
became
thy father in law
“Fortune has turned your 6 into a 1,” that is, a winning throw of the dice into a losing.
2
Now Fortune, who before meted out justice to tyrants, is called “false.” The Middle Ages had two
opposing ways of viewing Alexander, as a tyrant war maker, or here, as a conqueror of great magnanimity and
goodwill ( gentilesse and franchise).
3
This Pompey was in fact Caesar’s son in law, having married Caesar’s daughter, Julia.
30
As far as that the day beginneth daw,
Thou through thy knighthood hast them take and slaw,
Save fewė folk that with Pompeus fled,
Through which thou puttest all th' orient in awe.
Thank Fortuna, that so well thee sped !
2690
dawn
and killed
assisted you
But now a little while I will bewail
This Pompeus, this noble governor
Of Rome, which that fled at this bataille.
I say, one of his men, a false traitor,
His head off smote, to winnen him favor
Of Julius, and him the head he brought.
Alas, Pompey, of th' orient conqueror,
That Fortune unto such a fine thee brought!
To Rome again repaireth Julius
With his triumph, lauriate full high;
But on a time, Brutus, Cassius, 1
That ever had of his high estate envy,
Full privily hath made conspiracy
2700 Against this Julius in subtle wise,
And cast the place in which he shouldė die
With bodekins, as I shall you devise.
such an end
returns
crowned with laurel
high position
And planned
With daggers
This Julius to the Capitolie went
Upon a day, as he was wont to go,
And in the Capitol anon him hent
This falsė Brutus and his other foes,
And stickėd him with bodekins anon
With many a wound, and thus they let him lie;
But never groaned he at no stroke but one,
2710 Or else at two, but if his story lie.
So manly was this Julius of heart,
And so well loved estately honesty,
That though his deadly woundės sorė smart,
His mantle over his hips cast he,
For no man shoulde seen his privity;
And he lay a-dying in a trance,
And wistė verily that dead was he,
Of honesty yet had he rememberance.
1
seized him
unless
decent modesty
hurt badly
Chaucer seems to have thought, with some other medievals, that Brutus Cassius was one person.
private parts
decency
31
2720
Lucan, to thee this story I recommend,
And Suetone, and Valerie also,
That of this story written word and end,
How that to these great conquerorės two
Fortune was first a friend, and sithe a foe.
No man ne trust upon her favor long,
But have her in await for everemo’;
Witness on all these conquerorės strong.
L = Roman historian
2 Roman historians
beginning and end
and after
always be wary of her
Croesus
2730
2740
2750
This richė Croesus, whilom king of Lyde,
Of which Croesus Cyrus sore him dread,
Yet was he caught amidst of all his pride,
And to be burnt men to the fire him led.
But such a rain down from the welkin shed
That slew the fire, and made him to escape;
But to be ware no gracė yet he had,
Till Fortune on the gallows made him gape.
When he escapėd was, he can not stent
For to begin a newė war again.
He wendė well, for that Fortúne him sent
Such hap that he escapėd through the rain,
That of his foes he mightė not be slain;
And eke a sweven on a night he mette,
Of which he was so proud and eke so fain
That in vengeance he all his heartė set.
Upon a tree he was, as that him thought,
There Jupiter him washed, both back and side,
And Phoebus eke a fair towel him brought
To dry him with; and therefore was his pride.
And to his daughter, that stood him beside,
Which that he knew in high senténce t’abound,
He bade her tell him what it signified,
And she his dream began right thus expound:
“The tree,” quod she, “the gallows is to mean,
And Jupiter betokneth snow and rain,
And Phoebus, with his towel so clean,
Those been the sun’s streamės for to sayn.
Thou shalt an-hangėd be, father, certáin;
Rain shall thee wash, and sun shall thee dry.”
onetime
from sky
stop
He thought ...
such luck
...that by his foes
dreamed a dream
so glad
she was v. sensible
32
Thus warnėd him full plat and eke full plain
His daughter, which that called was Phany.
2760
An-hanged was Croesus, the proud king;
His royal thronė might him not avail.
Tragedies no other manner thing
Ne can in singing cry nor bewail
But that Fortúna always will assail
With unware stroke the regnės that been proud;
For when men trusteth her, then will she fail,
And cover her bright facė with a cloud.
bluntly & clearly
kingdoms
The Knight interrupts this string of tragedies, and the Host heartily agrees with the
interruption. He requests a tale from another pilgrim, a cleric very different from the Monk,
and far more entertaining -- The Nun’s Priest. The dialogue of the interruption appears as
the Prologue to the Nun’s Priest’s Tale