A NOTE TO THE READER

These Notes present a clear discussion of the action and thought

of the work under consideration and a concise interpretation of
its artistic merits and its significance.
They are intended as a supplementary aid to the serious student.
They serve to free the student from intenninable and distracting
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the instructor is saying, or to the class discussion, making selec
tive notes on these, secure in the knowledge that he has the
basic understanding. They are also helpful in preparing for an
examination, saving not merely the burden but the confusion
of trying to re-read the full text under pressure, and disentangling
from a mass of-often illegible-notes that which is of cen
tral importance.
Many of the greatest works of literature are obscure and bewilder
ing upon first reading and are much more meaningful if the stu
dent has read a brief survey before he approaches the work itself.
THE NOTES ARE NOT A SUBSTITUTE FOR THE TEXT ITSELF OR FOR
THE CLASSROOM DISCUSSION OF THE TEXT, AND THE STUDENT
WHO SO ATTEMPTS TO USE THEM IS DENYING HIMSELF THE VERY
EDUCATION THAT HE IS PRESUMABLY GIVING HIS MOST VITAL
YEARS TO ACHIEVE.
The critical evaluations have been prepared by experts with
special knowledge of the individual texts who have usually
had some years' experience in teaching the works. They are,
however, not incontrovertible. No literary judgment is. Of any
great work of literature there are many interpretations, and even
conflicting views have value for the student (and the teacher),
since the aim is not for the student to accept unquestioningly any
one interpretation but to make his own.
The experience of millions of students over many years has shown
that Notes such as these are a valuable educational tool and, pro
perly used, can contribute materially to the great end of literature
(to which, by the way, the teaching of literature is itself only a
subsidiary)-that is, to the heightening of perception and aware
ness, the extending of sympathy, and the attainment of mahirity
by living, in Socrates' famous phrase, "the examined life."
CANTERBURY TALES
NOTES
(Based upon the edition edited by F. N. Robinson)

including
Biographical and Historical Introduction
Chaucer's Language
Summaries and Commentaries
Principal Characters
Critical Analysis
Questions for Examination and Rei:iew
Select Bibliography

consulting editor
James L. Roherts, Ph.D.
Department of English
Unit:ersity of XelJraska

/\/'AA.
_LCliffSNa.tes
LINCOLN, NEBRASKA 68501
copyright 1964
By
C. K. Hillegass
All Rights Reserved
Printed in U.S.A.
 CONTENTS
CHRONOLOGY OF CHAUCER'S LIFE AND WORKS............ 5
GEOFFREY CHAUCER, A SKETCH OF
HIS LIFE AND TIMES............................................................. 5
CHAUCER'S LANGUAGE............................................................. 8
SYNOPSIS OF THE BOOK
SUMMARIES AND COMMENTS
The General Prologue ............................................................11
The Knight's Tale..................................................................18
The Miller's Tale...................................................................22
The Reeve's Tale ..................................................................25
The Cook's Tale....................................................................27
The Man of Law's Tale ..........................................................28
The Wife of Bath's Tale..........................................................33
The Friar's Tale ....................................................................36
The Summoner's Tale ............................................................38
The Clerk's Tale....................................................................40
The Merchant's Tale ..............................................................44
The Squire's Tale ..................................................................46
The Franklin's Tale ...............................................................48
The Physician's Tale ..............................................................49
The Pardoner's Tale...............................................................50
The Shipman's Tale ...............................................................53
The Prioress' Tale .................................................................55
Sir Topaz and the Tale of Melibeu............................................57
The Monk's Tale ...................................................................59
The Nun's Priest's Tale ..........................................................62
The Second Nun's Tale ..........................................................65
The Canon's Yeoman's Tale....................................................66
The Manciple's Tale...............................................................68
The Paron Talc.................................................................. 68
Chaucer's Retractions ............................................................69
THE PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS ................................................ 70
CRITICAL ANALYSIS............................ ............. .. ........... .......... 72
QUESTIONS FOR EXAMINATION AND REVIEW.................... 75
FOR FURTHER READING: A SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY.... . 77
 5

CHRONOLOGY OF CHAUCER'S
LIFE AND WORKS
c. 1340-Chaucer born in London.

1357-Became page to Countess of Ulster.

1359-Captured by French while serving in English army and later

ransomed.

(1360-72?)-Completed translation of Roman de la Rose, and wrote

T/11! Book of the Duchess and Legend of Good Women.

I 374-Became controller of customs in London.

( 1374-1380?)-Completed The House of Fame, Parliament of Fowls,

and several of the Calllerhury Tales.

I 386-Appointed Knight of the Shire and became member of Parlia

ment; Richard 11 removed him for his customs offices.

( 13 80-1390)-Translated Troilus and Criseyde and' resumed work on the

Cantnhury Tales.

1390-Appointed Clerk of King's Works at Windsor.

1399-Pension increased by Henry IV.

( 1390-1399)-Completed Treatise 011 the A strola he, En\'Oy to Sco,.:an,

En\'Oy to Bukton, and To I/is Empty Purse.

1400-Chaucer died and buried in Westminster Abbey.

GEOFFHEY CHAUCEH
A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE AD TIIES
England in the fourteenth century had a population of about 2.500.000.
London was the capital city which a contemporary writer described as
"clean, white. and small," encompassing an area of about one square mile.

The English countryside was dotted with small market towns seldom
populated by more than 150 persons. monaslt:ries. churches, and manor
house,. Between these landmarks were open fields and in some instances
native foresls. Travel was common and nol too ditlicult because the cilics
were connected by slone-pavcd highways conslrucled during Roman time,.
6

England, in Chaucer's time, was a nation in social ferment. Medieval

ism ,till was a dominant influence in the lives of Englishmen, but the renais
sance hatl assumed definite form and the country stood on the threshold of
the modern world. These were the forces which stood face to face: the
medievalist believed in the spiritual and the abstract, that the community,
not the individual, was the great ideal. Man. the medievalist assertetl, had
no right to think for himself or to makejudgments, for man was a member of
a great spiritual community, the church catholic and universal. The early
renaissance man believed in developing his own social groups, and national
interests, as opposed to a united Christendom.

In Chaucer's time there were many manife,tations of rebellion against

the old order of things. Wycliffe and his followers were sowing the seeds of
the Protestant Reformation which placed the emphasis on the individual.
Chaucer's countrymen began thinking of themselves as Englishmen, and
national patriotism showed in the battles with France which ushered in
the Hundred Years' War. The growth of manufacturing and commerce
gave rise to a middle class which speeded the end of the feudal system. The
people demanded more voice in the affairs of their government. The church
became corrupt: this corruption in turn invited corruption among the
people. And, in the midst of this social ferment. England was three times
swept by the Black Plague which reduced its population by one half and
dealt an almost mortal blow lo its industry.

This great century of social, political, literary, and religious ferment

was nearly half over when Geoffrey Chaucer was born in 1340. His father
was a successful wine maker in London, and his mother, Agnes de Comp
ton, a member of the Court. Chaucer was sent to the Inner Court at St.
Paul's Almonry where he received an excellent education.

In 1357 Chaucer became page to the Countess of Ulster: he met some

of the greatest men in England, among them John of Gaunt, Duke of Lan
caster. Two years later Chaucer, as a soldier, went to France on an inva
sion excursion which was doomed to failure. He was captured, and in 1360
was successfully ransomed. No information is available about Chaucer again
until 1366. By that time Chaucer's father wa, dead. his mother was re
married, and Chaucer was married to a woman nametl Philippa de Roet.
Whether this was a marriage of love or convenience i, not known. Philippa
was a woman of high rank in the service of the Queen. ln 1367 Chaucer
was in the service of the King and was granted a life pension as a valet.

In 1370. Chaucer was employed by the King for diplomatic errands.

and during the next ten years made seven trips abroad. In I 374 he was
appointed controller of the customs in London. That same year he was
given permission to quit the royal residence. and he leased a home in the
city of Lontlon. Chaucer received other appointments from the King. the
most important coming in 1386 when he bc,me a !-.:night of the Shire.
 7

That same year John of Gaunt, Chaucer's life-long benefactor, left England
for a military foray in Spain. King Richard 11 promptly stripped Chaucer
of all his customs appointments. When John of Gaunt returned in 1389,
however, Chaucer was restored to his previous offices.

In the following eleven years Chaucer managed to retain royal favors

and lived comfortably until his death on October 25, 1400. He was buried
in Westminster Abbey. His grave there was the first in what has become
known as the Poet's Corner.

There is some reliable evidence, therefore, which traces Chaucer's

life as a civil servant. Very little evidence exists, however, to pinpoint the
life of Chaucer as a poet.

It is now believed that Chaucer began writing about 1360, and by I 3 72

he completed most of the translation of Roman de la Rose and wrote The
Book of the Duchess and the Legend of Good Women. By 1380 he com
pleted The Hous e of Fame, the Paliament of Fowls, and some of the
stories which later appeared in the Canterbury Tales.

By 1385 he translated Troilus and Criseyde. About this time he began

the Canterbury Tales. (They were never finished, and scholars in later
centuries arranged them in the order thought most likely.) In 139 1 he
wrote T reatise on the A strolabe and the following year Envoy to Scogan.
Just before his death he wrote Envoy to Bukton and To His Empty Purse.

CHAUCER'S PUBLIC
The public for which Chaucer wrote his tales is important to their
understanding. As noted above, Chaucer moved in a high society and
among the learned members of the Court. His audience, therefore, would
have been a highly educated, sophisticated, and worldly audience. Chaucer
probably read his tales aloud to this audience. Thus, his hearers would have
had a knowledge of French, Latin, and English. They would also be familiar
with the many types of stories, tales, and fabliaus that Chaucer imitated.
Therefore, Chaucer could easily utilize various types of classical allusions,
subtle satire, and irony, all of which would have been fully understood
by his audience.

Chaucer's tales, of course, were not published or read by a general

public, but many students of the English language think that they became
so popular that the entire course of the English language was affected by
them. At the time Chaucer wrote, there were five different accents spoken
in English. These accents varied so much that a person of one section
could understand another not at all or only with great difficul!y.
8

CHAUC EH'S LA NGUAGE

The language o f C haucer is M iddle Engl ish, which. roughly speak i ng,
extends fro m about 1 1 00 to 1 500 A . D . The fol lowing ex planation may
help c larify the l i nguistic di visions of Engl ish for the begi n n i ng student
of Engl ish l i terature:

OLD E :\ G L I S I I (or A n,:lo-Saxon J - 5 9 7 A JJ. to 1 / 00 A JJ.

H co wu(f; the most famous l i terary work of the period , is an epic poem
in allite rat ive verse . The author is u n k nown. but the manu script
(Cotton Vitel l i u s A xv) dates from 1 000 A . D .
Example of an Old Engl ish half-line from U ,,01111I(
H ll'crt ll ' C ,: ardcna in ,: c arda ,:11111 - Old English
La . 11 ,, the Jpcar-D an c.1 in ! h e dayJ of yore - M odern English
( N otice the Germanic qual i t y of the Old Engl i s h . )
787 A . O. - Danish i nfluence on O l d English

I I D D LE E :\' G LI S I I - / / 00 A JJ . IO l 5 00 A D .
G eoffrey C haucer ( / 340- 1 400 A . D . ) is the acknowledged literary mas
ter of t h e period, and the Canrcrhury Ta/eJ is his most famous work.
Example of C haucer's poetry in M iddle English:
Al 111or1 a/ ha1ai/le.1 h a dde h e h ee n fi/i cn c - l\1 iddle Engl ish
Of morl al ha tllcs h e h a d .f<m,:h1 .fi/i ee11 - M odern Engli-.h
( N otice the French infl uence on M iddle Engl i s h : also. notice how
much c loser. l i ngu istically, M iddle Engl i s h is to M odern Engl ish
than Old English is to Modern Engl i s h . )

I O D E H :\' E :\' G LI S H - / 5 00 A D . 1 0 1hc prc .1 cnt

Some fa mous Engl ish w riters of t h i s period - Shakespeare. M i lton.
Swift , Wordswort h . Dickens, Shaw
Some famou s A me rican writers of t h i s period - Poe. H awthorne.
Twain, O ' N e i l l , Faulkner

There is some argu ment among sc hol ars about the dates for t he
l i nguistic periods, particularl y regard ing the shift from Old Engl ish to
M iddle Engl ish. N aturally there was no overnight change from Old to
M iddle Engl ish. but the action which t riggered the greatest c hange was the
N orman Conquest of England i n 1 066 A . D. - thereafter. the Engl ish lan
guage exhibited a French influence. Typical of the -.cholarly controversy
which centers u pon the assignment of an initial date to M iddle English
is an excel lent twentieth-century article by Kemp :\! alone e n t i t led "When
Did M iddle Engl ish Begi n?" (Sec C11r111c Un,:11i.11ic Studic.1 . )

T EXTS A :\'. D T HA :\'. S LATIOl\:S

f
I n m a n y ways, the M iddle English o f t h e C ,1 11t N h11r_\' ' a/C'.\ is m u c h l i k e
 9

Modern English (unlike the almost foreign language of the Old English
in Beoll'u/j), and the student of Chaucer should read the M iddle English
text for full appreciation of Chaucer's poetry. Three excellent books which
offer the original text are V incent F. H opper' s interlinear edition of the
Canterbury Tales (with selections only, in both M iddle and Modern Eng
lish, line by line), the J oh n M atthews Manly expurgated edition of the
Canterbury Tales (with helpful commentary and glossary), and the F. N .
Robinson complete edition of The Poetic Works o f Chaucer (includ ing
bibliography along with helpful introduction and glossary).

If the student is, for some reason, unable to read the original text of
the poem, he should by all means get one of the good modern translations -
for example, the poetic translations of J. U . N icolson or Nevil Coghill.
Nevil Coghill points out the variety of meaning which the translator en
counters with Chaucerian words. H ere is a M iddle English line from the
General Prologue, for example:

He was a verray par.fit gentil knyght

Now according to Coghill, "verray" does not mean "very" but "true,"
"gentil" means "gentle" but also, and more importantly, of "high breeding"
and "good birth . " So, to render Chaucer meaningfully and rhythmically
into one line, Coghill writes:

He \\'{IS a true, a perfect gentle-knight.

CHAUCER'S POETRY
Both Manly's and Robinson's explanations of Chaucer's versification
are so good that the student or teacher ought to take time to read them_
If these texts are not available, however, in the school or local library,
the present su mmary should suffice temporarily.

I . "All of Chaucer' s narrative verse, except the ' Monk's Tale,' is

written either in rhymed couplets or in stanzas of seven l ines." 1

2 . "There is . . . a difference between Chaucer's English and Present

Engl ish which i s of much importance to the versification. This con
sists in the fact that a majority of the words in Chaucer's English
ended in an unstressed final e or en or es." 2

3 . "The general character of the verse was also affected by the fact
that a large number of lines ended in so-called fe minine rhymes. " 3

'John Matthews Manly, editor, the Ca11terhury Tales, p. 1 3 1 .

/ bid., p. I 2 3 .
2

3 /bid., p. 1 2 3 .
10

4 . C haucer u sed iambic pentameter a great deal ( w i t h couplets) - hi s

u sage w a s foreru n ner of the h eroic couplet brought to perfection
by A l e xander Pope . There were, of course, varia t ions. The heroic
cou plet is an effect i ve poetic form for satire.

5. The "Tale of M c l i beus" and the " Parson's Tal e" are t he only
tales written i n prose: the rest of C haucers talc are poetic.

A G U I D E TO PHO '.\' U '.\' C I A T I O'.\'

M u c h i s lost if C haucer's poetry i s read in translation. I t i s cloe
enough to modern Eng l i s h so that the student w i t h only a l ittle practice can
eas i l y overcome t he l a nguage barrier. The following brief l i s t of aids will
help with t h e basic differences.

Esse n t i a l l y , the vowels i n C haucer's poet ry resemble the modern

continental sounds more t ha n they do modern F nt1 l i s h . The following basic
guide is not meant to be a complete pronunciation guide, but fu nctions as a
s i mplified approach to readi ng t h e poetry .

I ) The "A " i s always pronounced l ike the "a" i n fatha. I n words l i ke
"that" or "whan" t h e "a" sound i s shorter than i n word s l i ke " bathed . "
See lines 1 -3 of t h e general prologue.

2) The long "i" and "y" are bot h pronou nced l ike the long "ee" sound
fou nd in such modern words as machin e .

3 ) T h e l o ng " e " h a s t h e sound of t he " a " i n s u c h words as late, Ir ate,

mall', etc. If t h e "e" is s hort, give i t the modern Engl i s h pro n u nciation.

4) The "o" sou nds are si milar to t hose of modern Engl i s h , t hat i. the
majority take t he "oh" sound.

5 ) The " u " is a l so pronounced approximately the sam e as i n modern

Engli s h .

6) The following t hree d i p t hongs a r e t h e most frequen t :

A ) t h e "ei," "ey," a n d "ay" a l l t a k e t h e modern "ay" sound fou nd
in words l ike day, ll'a)', pay.

H) The "au" and "aw" are the "ou" sounds found in houJ<'. mou.\ l',
and lou s e .

C ) The " o u " i s somet h i ng in between the " o u " of y o u a n d the " c w "
sou nd of fell'.
 11

7) The final "e", "es" and "ed"; the final "e" is always pronounced
except when the next word begins with a vowel (or "h") and except when
the rhythm would be violated in which case it resembles the "uh" and is
never stressed.

8) The consonants are essentially the same as in modern English but

with more emphasis.
:\IIDDLE ENGLI S H GENRES
According t o Baugh's A Literary History of England, the Canterbury
Tales in its extent and variety offers a remarkable anthology of medieval
literature." Baugh then goes on to label the tales according to genre (or
literary type) ; the following is a simplification of his discussion:

Courtly Romance - Knight's Tale

Man of Law's Tale (of Constance)
Squire's Tale (fragmentary)

Breton Lay 1 - Franklin's Tale

Fabliaux2 - Miller's Tale
Reeve's Tale
Merchant's Tale
Saint's Legend - Prioress' Tale
Tragedy (through medieval eyes, at least) - the Monk's Tale
Exemplum3 - Pardoner's Tale
Sermon (or didactic treatise) - Tale of Melibeus
Parson's Tale
Beast Fable - the Nun's Priest's Tale

THE GEl\'ERAL PROLOGUE

In April the gentle rain, warming sun, and gentle winds. awakened
nature from its winter sleep. Then man yearned to travel. I n this season
in England, from every corner of the land, people made their way to Can
terbury to receive the blessings of "the holy blissful martyr" - St. Thomas
a Becket.
One spring day in Southwark at the Tabard I nn, the narrator (Chaucer)
awaited the next day when he would commence his journey to Canter
bury. That evening a company of twenty-nine persons arrived at the inn.
all of whom were Canterbury pilgrims. Chaucer was admitted to their

1
A lay. in this case, is a short romantic poem. not a song.
2
A fa hliau is a short story with a snappy ending.
3
The exemplum was one section of the medieval sermon - the part \\ hich
set forth examples to illustrate the theme of text of the sermon.
12

company. Hefore the pilgrimage began. Chaucer took time to describe his
companions.

Tire K11 il1 t

The Knight is the perfect and genteel man who loved truth. freedom.
chivalry and honor. He was truly a d istinguished man. He had ridden into
battle in both Chri stian and heathen lands and in every instance served his
king well. Despite his valorous deeds. the Knight never boasted of his
actions nor bored his listeners with his feats.

Commentary
The Knight is the most socially prominent person on the journey. and
certain obl'i.rnnces are paid to him throughout the journey. He tells the
first story and many pilgrims offer him compliments. One fact that
Chaucers audience would be aware of is that of all the battles the
Knight fought in, none were in the King's secular wars. They were all
religious wars of some nature.

Th e Squ ire
The Squire would be a candidate for knighthood. When not in battle.
he thinks of himself as quite a lady's man. He takes meticulous care of his
curly locks (hair) and is somewhat proud of his appearance. He could also
sing lusty songs, compose melodies, write poetry and could ride a horse
with distinction.

The Yeoman
The Yeoman was a servant to the Knight and Squire. He dressed all in
green and was known as an expert woodsman and an excellent shot with
the bow and arrow.

The Prioress
A Prioress named Madame Eglantine was also among the pilgrims. She
was a gentle lady whose greatest oath was "by Sainte Loy." She was rather
well educated, even though her French was not the accepted Parisian
French. She was very coy and delicate. When she ate. she took great care
that no morsel fell from her lips and that no stains ..., ere on her clothes. She
was very courteous and amiable and tried to imitate the manners of the
Court. She could not stand pain and would weep to see a mouse caught in a
trap. She had three small hounds with her which she treated \'Cry gently
and tenderly. Her dress was very neat and tidy and she wore a gold brooch
with the inscription a111or l"incit omnia.

Commentary
Chaucers depiction of the Prioress is filled with gentle and subtle
i rony. Here is a picture ofa lady who happens to be a nun, but she never
forgets that she is a lady first. Her oath, "by Sainte Loy: implies that she
has chosen the most fashionable and handsome saint who was also
famous for his great courtesy. Her emphasis on her appearance and
 13

her possessions (including her three dogs) suggest that she secretly longs
for a more worldly life. Even the inscription "amor l'incit omnia (love
conquers all) is a phrase that was used both in religion and also in the
many courtly romances. And the brooch is a piece of lovely jewelry.
In general she would be the ideal head of a girl's finishing school in
nineteenth century America.

Associa tes of the Prioress

The Prioress had another nun with her who functioned as her secretary
and also three priests.

Commentary
Two of the three priests will relate tales, and one of these tales (The tale
of Chaunticleer) will prove to be one of the most popular of all the tales.

The Monk
The Monk was an outrider for his monastery (that is, he was in charge
of the outlying property). He owned several horses furnished with the finest
saddles and bridles. He loved hunting, fine foods and lots of it; he had sev
eral good hunting dogs of which he was very proud. He dressed in fine
clothes. some were even trimmed in fur. He was rather fat, very jolly and
bald headed. His favorite food was a roasted swan. In general, he favored
an outdoor life to that of a closed, indoor existence.

Commentary
Chaucer's art is here demonstrated through his use of irony. While
Chaucer never makes a comment about his characters, he arranges and
selects his material so that the reader can come to a conclusion about
the character. When the monk says that he doesn't approve of the soli
tary prayerful existence in a monastery, Chaucer pretends to be con
vinced that the Monk's argument is right. But we see that it is right
only because this particular monk tries to justify his non-monastic
activities and for this monk. it is the right existence. Everything that
the Monk does is a violation of his monastic orders. H is love of the
worldly goods, food, and pleasures , and his dislike of the quiet
monastery contradict his religious vows.
Tire Friar
The Friar was a wanton and merry man who had helped many girls get
married after he got them in trouble. When he heard confessions, he worked
under the principle that the penance is best executed by money rather than
by prayers. So the person contributing the most money received the quick
est and best pardon. The Friar was the type who knew the taverns and inns
better than he knew the leper houses and the alm shouses. Chaucer says
that there was no better man than the Friar when it comes to the practice
of his profession. He was always able to get money from people. His name
was Hubert.
14

Co111 1 1 1 ( 1 1 t <1 r!/

The Friar wao; a person l icensed to hear confessions and to beg for
money . This Friar used e very vicious and i m moral met hod to extract
money from the parishioners, so when C haucer says t here were none so
good as H u bert in h i s profession, he is bei ng ironical. That is, if we
judge t he Friar by how much money he extorted from people, then he is
a great success. Hut essentially, t h i s Friar is notoriously evil and c u n n i ng.

The .\ l erclw ri l
The M e rchant was a member of the rich and powe rful rising middle
class. H e is shrewd and k nows a good bargai n . He talks and looks so solemn
and impres s i ve, and tra nsacts his business i n such a statel y manner that few
knew t hat he was deeply i n debt.

Tl1e Clerk
The C l erk, who was a student at Oxford, was extremely t h i n , rode a
very t h i n horse, and h i s clothes were t h readbare because he preferred to
buy book s rather than c lothes and food. H e did not talk often, but when h e
d i d , i t w a s with great dignity a n d moral v irtue.

Commentary
The C l erk was probably worki ng on h i s M . A . degree with the idea of
atta i n i ng some type of ecclesiastical position. N ext to the K n ight, he
is one o f the most ad m i red people on the pilgrimage.

J'he Sergea n t of La u
The Sergeant of Law was an able attorney who could recall every word
and comma of e very j udgment, a feat which earned h i m h igh d istinction
and handsome fees. But he makes people think that he i s busier a nd wi ser
than he real l y is. There is an implication t hat he has perhaps u sed his posi
tion to attai n wealth without ever actually violat i ng the letter of the law.

J'he Fra11 kli11

The Fra n k l i n was a large landowner with a certai n amou nt of weal th.
but he was not o f noble birt h . He spent his money freely, e njoying good
food. wine, and company. H i s house was always open a nd he was a true
epicurean, devoting his energies to fine l i ving and was generally l iked by
the other p i lgrims.

J'he llaherdaslH'r, Tiu Dyer, The Ca rperi l er, 'fh e \\'ea,er.

and Th e Ca rpel Maker
These were men who belonged to a gild . an organilation sim iliar to a
fraternity and labor union. Eac h was lu xuriou ly d ressed in the manner of
h i s call i ng, and each was im pressed with h i s members h i p in the gild to which
he belonged . The gildsmen had a cook who was one of the best.

Tire Cook
The C ook was a master of his trade. He k new how to bo il. hake. roast
and fry. Hut C haucer thinks it a shame t hat he had a ru nning sore on his
 15

shin, because his best dish was a creamed chicken pie whose white sauce
might be the same color as the pus from the running sore.

The Sh ipman
The Shipman was a huge man and somewhat uncouth. H e was t he
master of a vessel and knew all the ports from the M editerranean to the
Baltic. He could read the stars and knew how to fight well. But he did not
ride a horse well. H e looked l ike a fish out of water as he sat on his horse.

The Doctor of Physic

There was no one who could speak so well about medicine as this
doctor. He knew astronomy (astrology) and something of nature and could
tell what humour was responsible for a s ickness. But everyone thought he
was i n league with the druggist. He could quote all the medical authorities,
but knew nothing of the Bible. He had apparently made a lot of money dur
ing the plague, but doesn't seem to spend it very readily. Since he prescribes
gold for cures, he has a special love for this metal.

The Wife of Bath

The Wife of Bath was somewhat deaf, but was an excellent seamstress
and weaver. She made a point of being first at the altar or offering in church.
H er kerchiefs must have weighed ten pounds and she wore scarlet red
stockings. She has been married five times and has been on pilgrimages to
J erusalem, Rome, Bologna, Gal ice, and Cologne. She was gap-toothed and
rode a horse easily. She enjoyed good fellowship and would readily laugh
and joke. H er special talent was her knowledge of all the remedies of love.

The Parson
The Parson was very poor, but was rich in holy thoughts and works.
He would rather give his own scarce money to his poor parishioners than
to demand tithes from them. H is principle was to live the perfect l ife first,
and then to teach it. H i s life was a perfect example of the true C hristian
priest, and by his good example, he taught, but first followed it himself.

Commentary
Amid the worldly clerics and the false and superficial religious adher
ents, the poor Parson stands out as the ideal portrait of what a parish
priest should be. The same can be said of the following portrait of the
plowman. He is the ideal Christian man.
The Pl01rma11
The Plowman was a small tenant farmer who lived in perfect peace and
charity. He loved God with all his heart. He was always honest with his
neighbors and promptly paid his tithes to the church.

The ,\filler
The M iller was a big brawny man who could outwrestle any man (and
even a ram). He was short shouldered . broad and thick set. H is red beard
16

and a wart on his nose from which bristly red hairs protruded made him
look fearful. He played the bagpipes as the pilgrims left the town.

T/1 " ,\la11cipl<

The Manciple was a steward for a law school (or dormitory for lawyers)
in London and was in charge of purchasing the food. He was not as learned
as the lawyers . but was so shrewd in buying that he had been able to put
aside a tidy little sum for himself.

J'he lkete
The Reeve was the manager of a large estate. He was a skinny man
with a bad temper. His close cut beard and his short haircut accentuates
his thinness and long legs. He was an able, efficient, and shrewd man who
had reaped rich rewards from his master. The serfs, herdsmen, and workers
feared him dreadfully because of his unrelenting perseverance. Like the
M anc iple, he had reaped profits for himself by being so shrewd at buying.
He was once a carpenter and rode last among the group.
Commenta ry
It is not important to the Reeve's characterization that he is a c arpen
ter, but Chaucer is anticipating The Ree\'e's Tale later on. The Miller
will tell a dirty story about a carpenter, and since the Reeve was once a
carpenter, he feels the need for revenge by telling a dirty story about
a miller.
Th e S 11111111 0,ier
The Summoner (a man paid to summon sinners for a trial before a
church court) had a fire-red complexion, pimples and boils, a scaly infec
tion around the eyebrows, and a moth-eaten beard. Children were afraid
of his looks. He treats his sores as leprosy. To make matters worse, he
loved to eat garlic, onions, leeks, and drink strong wine. He could quote a
few lines of Latin which he used to impress people. Chaucer calls him a
gentil harlot (genteel fellow) and implies it would be difficult to find a better
fell,Hv. because for a bottle of wine, the Summoner would often turn his
back and let a sinner continue living in sin. He was also well acquainted
with Jadies of questionable reputation."

Com mentary
The physical appearance of the Summoner fits his profession well. He
is so ugly and so gruesome looking that a summons from him is in it
self a horrible e xperience. Thus. Chaucer ironically implies that he is
a good fellow. But furthermore. he is a good fel low because sinners
rnulJ easily bribe him. The reader should be aware of these subtle
ironic s,atemenh which are often made in paradoxical situations.

Tlw l'arc/0111r
The Pardoner was a church official who had authority from Rome to
sell pardons and indulgences to those charged with sins. He had just re
turned from Rome with a bagful of pardons which he planned to sell to the
 17

ignorant at a great profit to himself. He had a loud, high-pitched voice,

yellow, flowing hair, was beardless and furthermore would never have a
beard. Chaucer believes he was a "gelding or a mare." But there was no
one so good at his profession as was this Pardoner. He knew how to sing
and preach so as to frighten everyone into buying his pardons at a
great price.
Commentary
The Pardoner seems to be one of the most corrupt of the churchmen.
In the prologue to his tale, he confesses to his hypocrisy. And further
more, Chaucer implies that he is not really a man, that is, that he is
either sexually impotent or perverted.
The Host
The Host, whose name is Harry Bailey, was a merry man who liked
good company and good stories. He was a large jovial person and was
well liked by the pilgrims.

These, then, were the principal members of the party about to leave for
Canterbury. That evening the Host of Tabard Inn served the company an
excellent dinner after which he suggested that, to make the trip pass more
pleasantly, each member of the party should tell two tales on the way to
Canterbury. On the return trip each member of the company should tell
two more tales. The man who told his story best was to be given a sump
tuous dinner by the other members of the party. The Host added that, to
keep the journey bright and merry, he would accompany them to Canter
bury, and in all things he was to be the judge of what was best for the group.
All members of the company agreed to his proposal to act as governor
of the journey.

Early the next morning the r,;i rty departed. Two miles away at St.
Thomas-a-Watering, the Host silenced the group and announced that the}
would draw straws to see in which order the tales \vould be told. The K n ight
drew the shortest straw. The Knight agrees to tell the first tale. and here
ends the prologue and begins the first tale.

Commen tary
If Chaucer had completed his original plans, that of eac h pilgrim telling
two tales going and two coming back, there would have been appnl \ i matel
120 tales in all.

The Prolo!(IH' gives an admirable desc ription of the uncomplicated

life of England in the Middle Ages. Here arc port raits of all levels of E ng
lish life. In this group C haucer brings together all of the fo i h les ;1nd v i rtue,
of man and the manners and morals of his t i me with re 111ad,;1ble c b n t .

Throughout The ProloRUi', Chau cer alternately praises o r c h ides t h e

travelers with deftly drawn word port ra its \\ h i c h p rn v d e insig h t -, i n r,, r h e
life of his time.
 18

Hcforc C haucer, t here were other group, of talc, ,uch as Hoccac 1o' s
Dtec1111tro11.but never was there such a diversity of people w i t h i n t h e same
group. It i s t he n a stroke of ge n i u s t hat ( ' hauccr me, the device of the re
l igious pilgri mage to bri ng toget her ,uch a di vcr,c group.

The shrine of St. T ho ma s ,i Becket to whic h t h e pi lgri m s arc going was

reputed to have great h ea l i ng qualitic,. Thu,, ,omc of the pilgri m, arc
u ndoubted l y goi ng for health rather t han rcl igiou , rea,ons. For example.
The Wife of Hath was somewhat deaf, The Pardoner was beard le,,, The
Cook had a sore, The Summoner had boi l s and other skin trouble, The
M iller had an awful wart on his nose, The Kecve was c holeric, etc.

THE KN IGHT'S TALE

S u m mary
PA HT I
Long ago t he re was once a Duke cal led Thcseu, w ho was t h e Lord
and Governor of A t hens. H e was also a great soldier who vanq u i , hed e very
foe he met. A mong h i s v i c t i m s was a rea l m once known as Scy t h ia, ruled by
women called A mazo n s . Returning home w i t h his amazon wife H i ppol yta
and her sister, Emclye, Theseus met a group of women d rcs,cd in black
who were weeping and waili ng. They told how each had bee n a queen or
duchess, but had lost their hu sbands d u ri n g the s iege of Thebes. The cruel
t y ra n t C reon now plans to d ishonor t h e dead bod i e s .

T h e Du ke, s m i tten w i t h rage a n d p i t y , ordered Quee n H i ppolyta and

her beaut i fu l s i ster Emelye to return to A t h ens w here t hey were to dwell
in peace. Then, i n anger, the Duke and his army marched on Thebes. There.
on a c hosen field of battle, K i ng C reon was slain and t h e bones of their
dead husband s were restored to t h e mourning lad ies.

A fter t h e battle was over, two young warriors of T hebes, fearfu l l y

wounded, were brought before Theseus. H e recogni zed t h e m a, young men
of noble birth and was i nformed t hey were royal knighh na med A rcite and
Palamon. I n appearance, the t wo knights were very s i m i lar. being t h e son,
of two sisters. Theseu s ordered t hat they be ret u rned to A t he n s as prison
ers who could not be ransomed for any sum. They were, he said, to be h i s
prisoner, i n perpe t u i t y .

Several years passed b y , and A r c i t c and Palamon lay i n the pri son
tower in gri e f and angu i s h . On a fair morn ing in May. howe ver. t he beautiful
Emelyc arose and wandered happ i l y about i n her garden, which was ad
jacent to the prison tower.

At t hat mome n t , Palamon. the sorrowful prisoner. glanced do,, n

t h rough t he prison bars and saw t he beau tiful Emcl } c . H e nicJ out i n pai n .
 19

Arcite, alarmed, asked him what evil had befallen him. Palamon replied
that the beauty of the young lady had caused him to cry out. Arcite's
curiosity was aroused and he peered from the tower window. When he
saw the fair Emelye, he cried out that unless he could see her everyday
he would die.

When Palamon heard this, he was enraged. After all, he cried to Arcite,
I found her first. To counter his argument, Arcite maintains that he /med
her first. Thus, even though they are kin and had sworn eternal friendship,
they decide that in love it is every man for himself. And so the argument
continued until their friendship gave way to hostility.

About this time, a famous Duke called Perotheus, a friend of both

Theseus and Arcite, arrived in Athens. He implored Duke Theseus to
release Arcite on the condition that Arcite would leave Athens forever,
and if he happened to return, he would be immediately beheaded.

Arcite then bemoans his fate. Even though he is now in prison, he can
catch a glimpse of his beloved, but in banishment, he will never again see
the fair Emelye. He acknowledges that Palamon is the winner since he can
remain in prison and near to Emelye. But Palamon is equally disturbed
because he thinks that Arcite can raise an army in exile, return to Athens
and capture the fair Emelye. Chaucer then asks the reader which position
is worse, that of Arcite or Palamon.

PART I I

Arcite returned t o Thebes where he lived for two years moaning his
hard fate. His lamenting began to change his physical appearance. One
night a vision appeared before him and urged him to return to Athens and
the fair Emelye. Acri te arose and looked at himself in the mirror and
realized that his grief had drastically changed his appearance. So he took
the name of Philostrate and returned 10 Athens where he was employed as a
page in the house of Emelye. Several years passed, and Philostrate rose to
a high and well-to-do position in the Court of Theseus, even becoming a
trusted friend of Theseus himself.

Meanwhile, Palamon langui shed in the pri son tower. One night, how
ever. he escaped. He hid in a field the next morning 10 escape detection.
That same day, hy chance, Arcite arrived at 1he same field. Arcite was so
changed in appearance that Palamon Llid not recogniLe him. Arcite, thinking
himself alone, began 10 recite his enti re hi story aloud. Palamon, hearing
the confession, jumped out of hilling and cursed A rc ite as a traitor.
20

An:ite admitted his ide ntity and c hallenged l'ala mon to a duel. The
winner w,p; to have Emc:lye. The next morning A rcite hro ught armor, food,
and sword lo Palamon. The duel began , and they fought fiercely. A t t h i s
t i me. Theseus a nd h i s entourage arrived upon the bloody scene.

Palamon e x plai ned who they were and why they were fighting. The
K i ng, i n a rage, condemmed them to deat h . The lad ies oft he Court , including
Emel ye, cried bitterly. Theseu s fi nally agreed to give both of them their free
dom on t h i s cond ition: they should re turn to A t hens i n a year, each with one
h u nd red knights. A joust would be held, and the wi nner would get the hand
of Emelye. A rcite and Palamon retu rned to Thehes.

P:\HT I l l
D u ring the year, Theseus spent his time build i ng a magnificant stad i u m
in w h i c h t h e fi g h t w a s to take place. H e built an altar to Venus (goddess o f
love), to l\ t a r s (god of war) a n d to D iana. (goddes, o f c hastity). These
altars and the entire stad i u m were ric hly decorated with elegant detaib
which the K n ight enjoys desc ri bi ng. A t the end of t he year, A rcite and
Palamon, each at the head of one hu ndred k n ights, ret u rned to A thens
for the jou st. Theseu s welcomed t he m all and entertai ned them i n h igh
fash ion with wine, food s, s i nging, dancing and other forms of entertainment.
Again, the K n ight enjoys relat i ng all aspect s of t h i s magnificent feast.

Before the battle, Palamon goes to the altar of Venus and prays that
he be granted possession of the fair Emelye. I f he can't have his beloved
one, he would rather die by A rcite's spear. Emelye also prays before the
altar of D iana. She asks that Arcite and Palamon's love be extinguished,
and if not, that she be given the one who loves her the most. D iana tells
her that i t is dest i ned that she marry one of the you ng k n ights, but she was
not free to t e l l which one. Finally, Arcite appears and asks M ars for vic
tory i n the bat t l e . M ars appears and assures Arcite that he will be v ic toriou s.

The t h ree prayers and promises cau sed some confusion i n heaven
u n t i l Saturn, god of destiny, pro m i sed that Palamon would win his love
and A rc i t e would win the battle.

PAHT I \'
The great day for the joust dawned bright and beau t ifu l . The entire
populace of A t hens swarmed excitedly i nto the ampit heater. The con
testants, on exci ted st eed s, gathered at t he ends of the arena fac ing eac h
other. The g reat K i ng Theseu s arrived and annou nced t hat once a war
rior was hadl y wounded he would he removed from t he field of bat tle by
the K i ng's marshal . in order to determine the wi nner without need l e , s
l o s s of l ife. T h e m i l l ing battle began. Finally, Palamon w a s had ly wou nded .
A l t hough he resis ted the marshals. he was taken fro m the ti eld.
 21

The victorious Arcite, in his blood-spattered uniform, rode his horse

triumphantly around the arena to receive the plaudits of the multitude and
the smiles of the fair Emelye. But all of a sudden a fury arose from the
ground and so frightened Arcite's horse that the victorous warrior was
plunged to the earth. Arcite was badly hurt.

The King returned to his Court, and the populace was happy because
in all the spectacle of the arena not one man was killed. Even Arcite, it
was thought, would survive his injury.

The Duke of Theseus summoned his physicians to attend Arcite. But

Arcite was dying. Gasping for breath, Arcite protested an eternal love
for Emelye and then adds that he knows no person better than Palamon
and begs her to think about accepting Palamon in marriage.

Arcite died. H is earthly remains were reduced to ashes in a great

funeral pyre. After a long period of mourning, Theseus summoned Pala
mon to Athens. Then in the presence of Emelye and the court, Theseus de
clared that Jupiter, " 'the King, The Prince and Cause of all and every
thing,' " had decreed that Thebes and Athens should live in peace and that
Palamon and Emelye should be joined in marriage. They were wed and
lived out their lives in "a love unbroken."

Com m en tary
The Knight tells a tale of ideal love and chivalry. This type of tale
might seem somewhat tedious to the modern reader, but would have been
very popular in Chaucer's day. The reader should notice how well the story
fits the character of the Knight. He chooses a story filled with knights,
love, honor, chivalry, and adventure. Furthermore, fitting the Knight's
character, there are no episodes bordering on the vulgar and no coarse
ness. The love is an ideal love in which there is no hint of sensuality. The
love exists on a high, ideal, platonic plane. The emphasis in the story is
upon rules of honor and proper conduct. It is befitting the qualities uf a
knight that he would bring armor to his opponent before they begin to
fight. The sense of honor is central to the story and the purity of the love
each knight feels for Emelye tends to ennoble the character.

It is also typical of the Knight that he would love to describe the rich
ness of the banquet and the elaborate decorations of the stadium and the
rituals connected with the funeral. This type of richness and magnificence
would appeal to a man of such d istinction as the Knight. Furthermore.
the extreme emphasis on form, ritual, and code of behavior are elements
of the knighthood.

The modern reader might find it strange that so many elements of

chance enter i nto the story. Chaucer himself comments on the role which
Chance (or Fortune or Destiny) plays during the narrati ve. The women at
.,.,
t h e begi n n i ng arc bemoa n i ng t h e hars h nc,, o f Forlllnc. I t i , b y c hance that
E m c l yc walb beneat h t h e prim n . Later it i , by chance t ha t t h e O u k e Pcro
t h eus kne w A n: i t c . Again. i t is chance 1 hat A rc i t e i, e m ployed by Emclyc
and later accidentaly meets Pala m o n . C hance bri ng, Thc,e11, to t h e ,ame
spot where A rc i t e and P;damon arc fight i ng. A nd fi n a l l y . i t i , t he God of
C hance o r D e , t i n y who dcterm111c, h1r n l hc ,tory will he ,olved. I n other
word s. C haucer or t h e K n ight seems to he i m p l y i ng 1 ha 1 t h e l i ve, of men
arc i n tluencc<l by what ,cems to he chance . but i n t h e long ru n and i n terms
of a total world p i c t u re . t here i , a god who is contro l l i n g the see mingly
c h a nce occu rrences of t h e world . The u n i vc r,e. t h e n . i , not a s i ncoherent
a nd u norderly a s might fir,t he e x pected. There i s a loic or contro l l i ng
pu rpose be h i nd a l l t h e acts of t he u n i vc r,c e v e n t hough man might not
u nd erstand i t .

A n y read er t h e least fa m i liar w i t h a n ci en t G reece w i l l b e a l i t t l e sur

pri sed to d i covcr that the medieval c u stom of k n ig h h in armor jous t i ng
for t he hand of a maiden was an a 1 1 rihutc of A t he n i a n l i fe . Of course it
was not. Y e t . we may forgive C haucer this anachro n i s m . A fter a l l . what
bet t e r way t o begin his tales than with the K n igh t , and a talc of c h i valry
and romance w h i c h a k n ight wou ld he e x pected to t d l ".1 The K n ight docs
not t e l l of his own deeds of valor i n fore ign l a n d , . H i , talc i , about men
and v. o men of age, past who l i vc<l i n d ream a nd fancy. The ,tory could
have happende<l i n G reece. of course. but hard l y i n the t rappi ngs of
medieval c h i va l r y .

THE :\ I I LLEH'S TAL E : PHOLOG U E

S 11 111 111ary
When the K n ight had fi n i shed h i , story. e veryone said it wa, a fine
story and wort h y t o be re m e m bered. The H os t t h e n cal l s u pon 1 he :\ l o n k
to t e l l a talc t hat w i l l m a t c h t h e K nigh t ' s for nob i l i t y . H u t the :\f i l l e r . w h o
was d ru n k . shouted t hat he had a n o b l e talc. and he w o u l d match the
K n igh t ' s tak with his. The H ost t ried to stop 1 h c \l i l l c r because of the
M il ler", drunkenness, but the l\ l i l l e r i m i s t c d . H e a n nounced t hat he was
going to tell a s tory about a carpe n t er. an<l the R e c \ e obj e c t s . The M il ler .
however, i n s i s t s . C haucer t h en warn, t h e reader t h a l t h i , slory might be a
bit v u lgar . hut it is h i s d u t y to t e l l a l l l h c , 1 o ri c , hec a 1 1 ,c a prize is at stake.

T H E \ I I L L E H' S TA LE
S I I 111 1 1 1 (1 /"!f
Some t i m e ;1go. l he \ l i l l c r , ; 1 i d . l h e rc ,1 ;1, a ri..: h . ,ilJ c;1rpcntcr \1 h,i
l i ved in < h rord and w h ,, took 1 11 ;1 loJga 11;1mcd :-..: idH1b , . :-s; ic hob, \1 a ,
a c lerk and v. a , a l ,o a , 1 1 1 d c 1 1 1 ,, r a , t wlog v. ho. ;1mong lll hlr t h i ng , . v. a ,
ahlc t o fo rec a,t l he l i ke l i hood ,,f d rought ,,r , h ,1 ,1 er,. :-s; ,dw la, w;" a i .. ,, a
c l c v c r young 111 ; 1 11 . ncal -a ppca r i ng. a man d,H1, h;1rp p b y c r ;1 11d ,ingn. and
a lover ,1 ho,c p;,.,..ion, 11 nc c;1rcfu l l y d,i..: ked hc nca l h a ,h hi 1 , h man
ner ;1 11d ;1ppc . 1 r; 1 11cc
 23

N ow i t happened that the carpenter was married t o a n eighteen

year-old girl named Alison, and many years younger than the carpenter.
Alison was a bright, lively, pretty girl. I t was not long before N icholas
fel l in love with her. One day he grasped her and cried, "O love-me-all
at-once or I shall die !" At first, Alison made a pretense of objecting, but the
young clerk soon overcame her objections. They worked out a plan where
by they would play a trick on her husband, Old J ohn the carpenter. Alison,
however, warned N icholas that John was very jealous.

It happened that sometime later, Alison went to church and there

another young clerk saw her, and he was immediately smitten with her
beauty as he passed the collection plate. He was the parish clerk and was
named Absalon. Chaucer describes this clerk as being very dainty and par
ticular. He is even somewhat effeminate. The final touch to his personality
is that he is so dainty that the one thing he could not tolerate was people
who expelled gas in public.

That evening with guitar in hand he strolled the streets looking fo r

tarts when h e came to the carpenter's abode. Beneath Alison's window he
softly sang, " Now dearest lady, if thy pleasure be in thoughts of love,
think tenderly of me. " The carpenter was awakened but discovered his
wife unimpressed with the youth"s entreaties.

One day, when the ignorant carpenter had gone to work at a nearby
town, N icholas and Alison agreed that something must be done to get the
carpenter out of the house for a night. N icholas agreed to devise a plan.

And so it happened that N icholas, gathering plenty of food and ale,

locked himself in his room. After several days the carpenter m issed the
youth\, presence. When told N icholas might be dead in his room. the car
penter and his serving boy went to N icholas room and pounded on the
door. When there was no answer. t hey knocked down the door and found
the yought l y i ng on his bed. gaping as though dead, at the ceiling. The car
penter aroused the youth who then told of a vision seen in his trance that
Oxford was soon to be visited with a rai n and flood not unl ike the one ex
perienced by N oah. The alarmed carpenter wondered what could be done to
escape the flood. N icholas counselcd him lo fasten three boat-l ike tubs to
the ceiling of the house, rro vi sion each with food and drink enough to last
one day after which the flood would subside. and also include an axe with
which they could cut t he rores and allow the tubs to float. And finally. the
three tubs should be hung some distance ar,art .

The tuh-like hoah were hung in rlace hy the stur,id carrenter a nd the
evening hdore the rredict.:d llood all three e ntered t h eir boa ts a nd rrayed.
When the carpenter fell into troubled slcer . Ali son and N ichola s descended
the ladder fro m the i r hoah and sr,ed d(m nstairs. without a word. to hed.
24

M eanwhile. later that night the young parish clerk Absalon. having
heard the carpenter was away from the city, stole beneath Alison" s win
dow and begged her for a kiss . . . . Go away,"' she cried, " 'there's no
come-up-and-kiss-me-here for you." ' But he entreated her and Alison.
afraid the youth would arouse the neighbors, agreed to give him a kiss.
But deciding to play a trick on this bothersome clerk. she extended her
rear end out the window which the young clerk kissed most savorously.

When he discovered how Alison had tric ked him. young Absalon
strode away in anger. He was not completely cured of his lovcsickness.
He therefore plans re venge. He goes across the street and arouses the
blac ksmith and borrows a red-hot poker. Returning to the carpenter' s
house. Absalon knocked at the window again and pleaded for one more kiss.
N icholas decided that Alison's tric k was so good that he would now try
the same thing, so he presents his rear to be kissed. When Absalon called
for Alison to speak to him. N icholas expelled gas which. as Chaucer says,
was like a stroke of thunder. It almost knocked poor dainty Absalon off his
feet. but recovering rapidly. Absalon applied the hot poker to ;-.; icholas arse.

" ' Help ! Water ! Water! Help !"' shouted N icholas. The carpenter was
startled from his sleep. ' " Heaven help us," "he thought. " 'here comes
Nowers Flood !' With an axe, he cut the ropes which held his boat to
the caves.. of the house. Down he crashed. Alison and N icholas shouted
..
H elp !" and " turder!" and the neighbors rushed to the house.
N icholas told them of the carpenter's preparation for a flood. All laughed
at this lunacy, and none would help him for they considered him mad.
And to conclude it all. the carpenter received a broken arm from the fall.

Commenta ry
Many who like Chaucer do not like The Miller's Tale and choose to
skip it. Yet, it is reasonable to assume that stories such as this were rather
common in the inns of Chaucer's time. The point here is not that the tale
has its bawdy moments, but rather that the reader has enjoyed an expert
telling of a practical joke. ls not the point here the stupidity of the jealous
carpenter in falling for N icholas' preposterous flood. rather than the ends
for which the trick was devised? With great economy of words . Chaucer's
,, riling here exhibits the deft. concentrated portraiture found in the Pro
logue to the book.

The reader should also remember that one story is often told in rela
tionship to the story (or Prologue) which has preceded it. Therefore. we
should see if The Miller's Tale has any relationship with Th e Knight's Tt1/e.
We must remember that in the Prologue to the tale. the M iller had promised
tn tell something which would mt1tch Tire Knight's Tt1lc. Consequently.
upon reflection. we see that both the Knight' s and :'.tiller's tales are involved
with a three-way love triangle. I n both tales. two men are seeking the
lll VC of the same woman. In both tales. the woman remains the more-or-
 25

less passive bystander while the men struggle for her. Furthermore, both
tales involve destiny or getting-what-comes-to-you. As destiny entered
in to solve the dilemma between Palamon and Arcite, so in The Miller's Tale
there is the sense of every man getting his just desserts. The Carpenter is
cuckolded and has a broken arm because of his extreme jealousy. Nicholas
has a severly burned rear end. Absalon has been mistreated in another
way. One might therefore say that destiny or poetic ju stice played an
important role in both tales. Visions and astrology play a role in both
stories. The duel in Th e Knight's Tale is replaced by the window episode in
The Miller's Tale. The analogies here suggest Chaucer's awareness of the
difference between the two narrators. The contrast between the noble
Knight and the burly M iller is made more prominent by the type of story
each chose to relate. A nd finally, the type of story the M iller tells is still
popular today. Any time a very old man marries a young girl, there will
naturally be jealousy and sooner or later, the young wife usually takes on
a lover.

THE REEVE'S TALE: PROLOGUE

S u m m ary
After everyone has laughed at the Miller's tale, the Reeve becomes
suilen because the tale was unfavorable to a carpenter. The Reeve, whose
name is Osewold, promises to repay the M iller with a story. He then tells
how he resents the carpenter' s advanced age because he is also somewhat
advanced in age and can enjoy only a li mited amount of things. H e poi nts
out that in old age, man can only boast or lie or covet. The H ost inter
rupts him and tells him to get on with the tale. Osewold warns the group
that his tale will employ the same rough language as was found in The
Miller's Tale.

Commen tary
Once again, the reader should keep in mind the idea that one tale is
often told to repay another. Thus since the Reeve is upset over the M iller's
Tale, he is now going to tell a tale whereby a miller is ridiculed.
THE REEVE'S TALE
S u m mary
At Trumpington, not far from Cambridge, there li ved a M iller. He was
a heavy-set man, a bully, who carried several knives and knew how to use
them. No one dared lay a hand on the man for fear of their lives. H e was
also a thief and always stole corn or meal brought to his mill for grinding.
H is wife was a portly creature who was the daughter of the town clergy
man. She has been raised in a nunnery. The M iller wed her because he
was somet hing of a social cl imber and wanted a refined wife. But Chaucer
impl ies that being the daughter of the town clergyman. she was probably
illegit imate. But both of them were proud of their twenty- year old daughter
and six-month baby boy.
26

The Miller levied excessive charges for hi, work, in addition to steal
ing what he could. Thi'> was particularly true of the corn brought to him
for grinding from a large-sized col lege at Cambridge. One day when the
manciple (steward) was too ill to go to the mill to watch the Miller grind
his corn, the man sent to the mil l was duped and robbed ou trageou ,ly.
Two students at the college, John a nd Alan, were enraged when news of
the theft reached them . They volunteered to take a ,ack of corn to the mill
for grinding and beat the Miller at his own game. They arrived and an
nounced they would watch the milling. The Miller ,ensed the students
would try to prevent him from stealing some of the grain. H e decided
therefore t hat he wou ld take even more than usual ,o as to prove that the
greatest scholar is not always the wisest or cleverest man.
When he had a chance, the Miller slipped out to the students' hor'>e,
u ntied it , and away it ran to the wild horses in the fe n. The M iller retu rned
and grou nd and sacked the corn. The students disco vered their horse wa,
missing and chased the spirited animal until dark hefor.: catching it. While
they were gone, the Miller emptied half the flour from the ,ack and gave
it to his wife.
When J ohn and Alan returned from catching their horse, it was al
ready dark. They asked the Miller to put them up for the night and offered
to pay for food and lodging. The Mil ler sarcastically said to them that his
hou se was small, but that college men could always make things seem to
be what they aren't. H e challenges them to make his one bedroom into a
grand chamber. But he agrees to put the m up and sends his daughter for
food and drink. M eanwhile, he makes a space in his only bedroom for John
and Alan, thus all slept in the same room but in three separate beds: the
Miller and his wife in one, John and Alan in another a nd the daughter in the
third. The baby's cradle was at the foot of the Miller's bed.
After drinking for a long time, everyone went to bed and soon the
Miller and his family were asleep. But J ohn and Alan lay awake thinking
of ways in which to get revenge. Suddenly, Alan gets up and goes over to
the daughter's bed. Apparen tly, they got along just fine. But John stayed
in his bed and gru mbled about his fate. He then got up and moved the
cradle next to his bed. Shortly after that. the Wife had to relieve herself
of all the wine she had drunk. Returning to her bed, she felt for the baby's
cradle and couldn't find it. She felt in the next bed and discovered the
cradle and climbed in bed beside John. H e immediately "tu mbled" on her,
"and on this goode wyf he" layed it on well.
As dawn neared Alan said goodbye to the daughter who suggested
that as they left the mill, they look behind the main door and find the half
sack of flour her father had stolen. Alan walked over to wake John and. dis
covering the cradle, assumed he was mixed up and we nt to the M iller's
bed and hopped in. He shook the pillow and told J ohn to wake up. Alan
immediately told how he had already had the Miller's daughter three times
 27
in this one short night. The Miller rose from his bed in a fury and started
cursing. The Miller's wife, thinking she was in bed with the Miller, grabbed
a club, and mistaking her husband for one of the clerks, struck him down.
Then Alan and John fled the premises.
Commentary
Chaucer has again given us a tale of immorality - not for the sake of
immorality but for the sake of a joke. Like The Miller's Tale, there is here a
rough sort of poetic justice meted out. The Miller had intended to cheat the
students, and had ridiculed them when telling them to try to make a hotel
out of his small bedroom. During the course of the night, the students
had indeed made a type of hotel (house of prostitution) out of his house.
The nature of the two stories (the Miller's and the Reeve's) again testify
to the differences in their personality. The Reeve, i t will be remembered,
is sullen and choleric. His tale is more bitter and somewhat less funny than
the Miller's. But on the contrary, the Miller was a boisterous and jolly per
son, and his tale was the more comic of the two.

THE COOK' S TALE: PROLOGUE

S u m mary
The Cook, Roger, is laughing over The Reel'e's Tale. He thought the
M i ller was well repa i d for argu i ng that his house was too small. He
promises to tell a tale that really happened in his town. The Host inter
rupts and tells him he will have to tell a good one to repay the company for
all the stale pies he has sold lo them. Then the Host tells that he i s only
joking. Roger then turns to his tale.
Comm e11 tary
Here the Host is playing with words when he tells Roger to tell a good
tale to repay the pilgrims for the stale pies. Actually the tale is to repay
the earlier narrators.
THE COOK'S TALE
Sum mary
There was an apprentice cook working in London named Perkin
Reveler who was as full of love as he was full of sin. Al every wedding
he would dance and sing rather than tend the shop. And when he wasn't
dancing or singing or drinking, he was gambling. His master finally decided
that one rotten apple could spoil the whole barrel. Thus , the master dis
missed Perkin. The young man. obeying another proverb, "birds of a feath
er flock together," joined another young man of the same habits as his.
The friend"s wife kept a shop, but this shop was just a front to her loose
and immoral activ ities.
Commentary
Most authorities agree that The Cook 's Tale is only a fragment. Per
haps Chaucer came to feel that three merry tales was too much of a dose
of humor, thus abandoned it. Nonetheless. we are given a wonderful portrait
 of a carel ess you ng man. even t hough t he u l t i mate fate he may have suf
fe red for h i s folly will never he k no w n .

T H E IAN O F LA \\''S I :\'.THODUCT I O:\'

S II Ill lllll I"!/
The H ost. noting t he rapid ly pas s i ng day, re mind-. t h e company that
they must proceed with t he tales. Then addressing h i m self to the Man of
Law i n what he considers t h e be st of legal language. t he H o s t exhorts the
Man of Law to acq u i t h i m self by fu lfi l l i ng h i s cont ract to tell a talc. The
!\ I an of Law prote s t s t hat C haucer has already written about all t he good
stories of t he world and has left not h i ng else to be tol d . He also protesh
that he will not tell his story i n rhyme. I a m not a poe t , he said, hut a plain
spoken man who will tell a story plainly.

THE MAN OF LA \V' S TA LE

S u m mary

PAHT I
There once dwelt in S yria a company of wise, honest. and prosperous
merchants. Their t rade i n spices, gold , satins, and many other art icles was
far-fl u ng. It happened that some of t hese merc h a n t s decided to go to Rome
to determine if t here were opport u n i ties for t rade.

During their sojourn i n Rome, t hey heard of Constance, t he daughter

of the emperor. She was prai sed for her beauty, her goodness, and her
i n nocence. She was reputed to be the perfect woman. u nt ainted by any of
the frivol i t y of l ife .

U pon the ret u rn of t h e se merchants to Syria. t he young Syrian Sultan

was, as always, a n x ious to hear of t h e i r good fortune i n t rading. As t he
merchants spoke of t h e wonders t hey had seen in Rome, they also made
spec ial mention of the Lady Constance.

The young Sultan was enrapt u red with t he i r description of her . and
soo n his heart was set u pon having her as his wife . N o one else would do.
He took t h e matter before his council and told them t h at h e m u st perish
if he could not w i n her hand .

The counc i lors saw great d i ffi c u l t i e s . For one t hi ng. the Emperor of a
C h rist ian land wou ld not find it convenient to form such an all iance w i t h a
nation w h i c h worshipped M a ho m e t . The S u l tan c ried : .. ' Rather t han t hat
I lose/ The Lady Constance. I will be hap t i ze d . ' B ru s h i ng aside objec tions
it was arranged t hat all of his suhjech should becom e C h ri-.tian-..

A l l was made ready in Rome for the voyage to Syria. Hut on the day of
depart u re Lady Constance arose pale and sorrowful for she sorely re
gre t t ed leav ing h e r home land anu friends.
 29

As plans were being made for the big wedding, the mother of the Sul
tan was conspiring against Constance and her son. She was angry that her
son was making her give up her old religion for the sake of this foreign
girl. She called together certain of the councilors and protested that she
would rather die than depart from the holy teachings of Mahomet. They
all agreed that they would pretend to accept the new religion, but at the
cl imax of the feast, would attack the group and slay them all. The first part
ends with the Man of Law attacking the baseness and falseness of the
Sultan's mother.
PART II
The Christ ians arrived in Syria and, amid great pomp, journeyed to
the Sultan's palace where he and Lady Constance were overcome with
great joy. The wedding ceremony was completed and the dazzling array
of dignitaries sat down to a sumptuous feast. At that moment the confed
erates of the Sultan's mother swept into the banquet hall and all of the
Christians including the young Sultan were slain - all, that is, except Lady
Constance. She was put aboard a sailing vessel, well provisioned, and cast
upon the sea. For days on end her little ship roamed the seas. Finally, one
day, the ship beached in the northern isle of Northumberland.

There she was found by the Constable and his wife who took her in and
cared for her. This was a pagan land but Constance secretly kept her faith
with Jesus Christ. Soon Hermengild, the Constable's wife, became a Chris
tian and then the Constable himself.

Then one night Satan (in the person of a Knight) entered the Con
stable's home and slit the throat of Hermengild, and when the Constable
returned he found the murder weapon in Constances bed. Forthwith, the
Constable took Constance before his king - Alla - who ruled with a wise
and powerful hand. The King sentenced her to death but there was such a
wailing among the women of the Court, the Knight was asked again if he had
killed Hermengild. No, he cried, it was Constance. At that moment he was
stricken dead, and a voice was heard to say that the King had unjustly
judged a disciple of Christ.

The court was awe-stricken. and soon all were converted to Chris
tianity. All rejoiced at this but Donegild, mother of the King. The King
and Constance fell in love and were soon wed. While the King was away
at war with the Scots, a beautiful son was born to Constance. But Done
gild intercepted the message and wrote a false letter saying the child was
terribly disfigured. But the King said if this was God's will, let it he done.
Enraged, Donegild intercepted the King's message and wrote a false mes
sage that it was the King's will to have the son destroyed. The embittered
Constance, aided hy the Constable, was taken to a sailing ship and she and
her beloved son sailed beyond the horizon.
30

PAHT I l l
K i ng A l l a ret u rned from t he war. d i ,mayed with t he news of h i s fa l,i
fied messages and grief-stricken at t he loss of h i s son and wife. Donegi ld
was soon d iscovered respom,ihlc. and she was put to death.

In the mea n t i me, the E m peror of Rome heard of the tragic news of
the dea t h o f t he C hristians and sent an army to Syria: t he culpri t s were
put to deat h . As the Romans were ret urning they saw the vessel steered by
Constance. Not recognizing her. they took her to Rome where ,;he l i ved i n
o h s c u r i t y , fo r s h e h a d l o s t h e r m e m o r y a n d s h e d i d n o t rec o g n i z e
her homeland.

The grief-strick e n Alla decided to make a pilgri mage to Rome to seek

penance for the fou l play which befell his beloved Constance. There, while
i n the company of a Senat or, he c hanced to sec a c h ild whose face ,trongly
resembled that of C onstance. U pon i n q u i r i ng, he learned of t he c i rc u m
stances. When l e d to the dwelling place of Constance. A lla t o l d h e r how
his t rue feel i ng for t h e i r son had heen d i storted hy his mother.

A joyous reu nion followed, and t hen Constance went hefore the Em
peror and ack nowledged t ha t she was his daughter. There wa, great joy in
the land. Alla and C onstance ret u rned to Northumherland. but within a
year t he K ing died. Constance and her son. M aurice, retu rned to Rome
where he later became Emperor.

Commn1tary
The pilgri m s completed their fi rst day's journey to Cant erhury, s pent
t he night a t Dartford and a pparen t l y started late on the ,;econd day's jour
ney. The H ost suddenly confronted the company and told them a fou rth of
t he day had passed. He called upon t he Man of the Law t o tell his story . The
lawyer, all too fam i liar with contrac t s , said he would fu l fi l l his ohligation.

C h aucer wrote The Man ,{ the Lall' Talc from an earlier c hron icle
0

.\

by N icholas Trivet, an Engl ish scholar and h istorian who l i ved i n t he first
h a l f of t h e fou r t e e n t h c e n t u r y . C h a u c e r c o n s i d e r a h l } c o n d e n s ed
Tri vet's story.

This s tory of Constance C haucer con verted from ordi nary lege nd to
a great work of a rt . The aut hor produced his work - we must remember
in t he spirit of the C hristian M iddle A ges when man loved t he perfect, the
u n i versal. as opposed to t he Renaissance which focu sed its attent ion on the
i m perfec t i nd i v idual.

Constance, t he bea u t i fu l , is t h e perfect and the u n i ve rsal. We sec her in

poverty and pro sperity, in joy and sorrow. in defeat and i n , ictory. Through
out the story Constance is u n moved. unshaken, from the great C hristian
viri ues of h u m i l i t y . faith. hope, and chari t y . She moves fro m one im prohat-ile
 31

situation to another and always, in the end, is miraculously saved. Chaucer

does not explain away these events. He accepts them joyously.

THE EPILOGUE OF THE MAN OF LAW' S TALE

S u mmary
The Host breaks in and congratulates the Man of Law for the excel
lence of his tale. He then calls upon the Parson to deliver something equally
good. But the Parson rebukes the Host for swearing. In turn the Host
mildly ridicules the Parson for prudery. Here the Shipman breaks in and
maintains that they need a lively story.

Com men tary

This fragment is incomplete. It implies that perhaps the Shipman will
tell a tale next. But there is much to suggest that Chaucer meant to remove
this epilogue from the total picture. Therefore, most scholars prefer the
arrangement wherein the so-called Marriage group follows next.

THE \VJFE OF BATH'S PROLOGUE

S u m mary
The Wife of Bath begins her prologue by annou ncing that she has al
ways followed the rule of experience rather than au thority. And since she
has had five husbands at the church door, she has had a great amount of
experience. She sees nothing wrong with having had five husbands, and can
not understand Jesus rebuke to the woman at the well who had also had
five husbands. She prefers the biblical inju nction to "increase and multiply."
She reminds the pilgrims of several biblical i ncidents: Solomon and his
many wives. the command that a husband must leave his family and join
with his wife. and St. Paul's warning that it is better to marry than to burn.
Having shown herself to have a knowledge of the Bible. she asks where it
is that virginity is commanded. It is, she admits, adiised for those who
want '.o live a perfect life . but she admits that she is not perfect. Moreover,
she asks. what is the purpose of the sex organs. They were made for both
functional purposes and for pleasure. And unlike many cold and bashful
women. she was always 11i//i11g to have sex whenever her husband wanted
to. The Pardoner interrupts and says that he was thinking of getting mar
ried. but having heard the Wife of Bath . he is glad that he is single. She
responds that she could tell more. and the Pardoner encourages her to do so.

The Wife then relates stories concerning her five husbands. She re
called that three of them were very old and good and rich. And she will now
reveal how she was able to control each one. Her techniques were very
simple. She accused her husbands (the first three) of being at fault. She
scolded them when they accused her of being ex travagant with clothes and
jewelry when her only purpose was to please her hushand. She railed at her
husband when he refu,ed to di ,close the worth of his land and the value of
h i s coffers. She derided t he hu ,hand who considered her as propert y . She
denou nced men who refused her the l i hert y of , i,it ing her friend s for
women. l i k e men. l i ke freedom. She decried t he hu,h;ind who ,u,pected
her chastity wa, in danger every t i me she sm iled at another gentleman to
whom she wished only to he courteou,. She denou nced t he hu ,hand who
hired spies to determine i f she was unfait hfu l . and indeed. hi red her own
wit nesses to t e s t i fy lo her fa i t h fu l nc,s to her marriage hed .

Eac h t i m e she gai ned complete mastery over one of her hu shands,
he would then die. But her fou r t h hu shand \I.a, d i ffe re n t . He kept a m i -.tres,.
and this hot hered her hecause she was i n the prime or l i fe and full of pa,
sion. Thus. while not being actual l y unfait hful to her fou r t h hu shand . ,he
made him t h i n k so. Thus "in his own greece I made him fry . " But now he i s
dead . a n d when s h e w a s burying h i m . s h e could hardly keep her eyes o ff
a young clerk named J a n k y n whom s h e had alread y admired. Thus. at
the mon t h ' s end. she married for a fifth t i m e even t hough ,he was t \l. ice
t he clerk's age. A nd t h i s t i m e she married for lo \'e and not riches. Hut a,
soo n as the honey moon was over. she wa, d i s t u rbed to find that t he clerk
,pent all o f his time read ing book s. espec ially books " h ich di,paraged
women. I n fac t . he collect ed all t he book s he could \l. hich told unfa\ orable
stories about women and he spent all his t i m e reading from th e,e collection,.

One night. he began to read aloud from his collec t io n . He began " i t h
the st ory of E v e and read about all the u n f a i t hfu l women. murderes,e,.
prostitutes, e t c . , which he could fi nd . The Wife ot Bath could not stand t h i s
any more, so s h e grabhed the book a n d h i l J an k y n s o hard that he fel l over
bac k wards into t he fire. H e j u m ped u p and hit her with his fot. She fe ll to
the floor and pretended to be dead. When he kneeled over her, she hit h i m
once more a n d pret ended to die. H e w a s so u pset t h a t h e promi sed h e r any
t h i ng if s he would l i ve. And t h i s is how she gained " sovereignty" over her
fift h h usband . A nd from t hat day on. she was a t rue and fa i t h fu l wife for h i m .

Com mentary
The Wiji of Bath's Prolo,:ue occupies a u n ique posi t ion in t hat it i s
longer than t h e tale. I t fu nctions t o just ify her fi v e marriages a n d t o sugge st
that t he t h i ng women most desire is complete control over t heir hu sbands.
B u t in addi t ion to being a defense of her marriages, it i s also a confession
of her tech niques and subtly speak i ng. a pica for cert a i n reforms for
wo men. She uses t wo basic argu ments: if women remained v irgins. t here
would be no one left to give birth to more virgins, and t hat t he sex organ s
arc to b e u s e d for pleasure as well as fu nction. A nd l i k e the Dev i l w h o can
quote scripture to prove a poi n t . t he Wife of Halh a l so uses t h i s same
technique. H er prologue then refutes the popu lar t h eory t hat women should
be subm i ssi ve, espec ially i n matters of sex. A nd we ,hou ltl re member t hat
her argument i s against t he authorities of t he ch urc h and slate and t hat she
i s a woman who prefers experience to scholarly argu mcnh.
 33
WORDS BETWEE '.'I T H E SUL\IONER A N D T H E FRIAR
S u mmary
The Friar thinks that this was a rather long preamble for a tale. The
Summoner reminds the Friar that he is rather long-winded. The Summoner
and the Friar then exchange a few words.

Commentary
This exchange between the Summoner and the Friar anticipate their
tales which fol low Th e Wife of Bath's Tale.

THE WIFE OF BATH'S TALE

S ummary
Once, long ago, a knight was returning to King Arthur's Court when he
saw a fair young maiden all alone, and raped her.

The countryside was revolted by the knight's act, and King Arthur
was petitioned to bring the knight to justice. The king condemned the
knight to death. The queen, however, begged the king to permit her to pass
judgment on the knight. When brought before her, the queen informed him
he would live or die depending upon how successfully he answered this
question: "What is the thing that women most desire?" The knight con
fessed he did not have a ready answer; so the gracious queen bade him re
turn within one year.

The knight roamed from place to place. Some women said they wanted
wealth and treasure. Others said jollity and pleasure. Others said it was to
be gratified and flattered. And so it went. At each place he heard a differ
ent answer.

He rode toward King Arthur's court in a dejected mood. Suddenly, in

a clearing in the wood, he saw twenty-four maidens dancing and singing.
But as he approached them they disappeared, as if by magic. There was not
a living creature to be seen save an old woman, whose foul looks exceeded
anything the knight had ever seen before.

The old woman approached the knight and asked what he was seeking.
She reminded him that old women often know quite a bit.

The knight explained his problem. The old woman said she could pro
vide the answer, provided that he would do what she would require for
saving his life. The knight agreed, and they journeyed to the Court.

Before the queen the knight said he had the answer to \\ hat women
desired most, and the queen bade him speak.
34

The knighl re,pomlcd that women mo,t de,ire ,overeignly over their
husbands. N one of the women of the Cou rt could deny the validicy of
this answer.

The knight was acq uitted. Then the old crone !old the C ourl she had
supplied !he knight's answer. In exc hange !he knight had. upon hi, honor.
agreed to ho nor any reque,t .,he made of him. She ,aid that ,he wou l d ,ett le
for nothing less lhan to be hi, very wife and love. The knight, in agony,
agreed to wed her.

On their wedding night the knight t u rned re,tle, , I paying no heed to

the foul wo man lying ne x t to him in bed. She ,aid, "I , thi, how knighh
treat their wives upon t he whole?' " Then the knight confc ,,ed that her age.
u gl iness, and low breeding were repu l sive to him .

The old hag then gives !he knight a long lecture in v. hich ,he re minds
him that true gentility is not a matter of appearance, but rather virtue is the
true mark of the gent le and noble. And poverty is not to be .,purned becau ,e
Christ Himself was a poor man as were m any of t he father., of ! he church
and all saints. All the Christian and even pagan authoritie, say that poverty
can lead a person to sal vation. Then she reminds him that her look, can be
viewed as an asset. I f she were beautifu l. there wou l d he many men who
would desire her: so as long as she is old and ugly, he can be aS'>ured that
he has a virtuous wife. She offers him a choice: an old ugly hag such a, ,he.
hut still a loyal, true and hum ble wife, or a beautiful woman with whom he
must take his chances in the covetousness of handsome men \\ ho woul d
visit their home because o f her and not him .

The knight groaned and said the choice was hers . .. 'And have I won
..
the mastery?' " she said. " ' Since I ' m to choose and ru le a, I think lit '.''
..
" 'Certainly, wife,' " the knight answered. " ' Kis, me. ,he ,aid . .. . . . On
.
my honor you shall find me both . . . fair and faithful as ,1 \\ifc . . . Look at me .
she said. The knight turned, and she wa, indeed now a young and lovely
woman. And so, the Wife conc l uded, they lived bli,,fu l l y e ver after.

Commenta ry
The Wifi' ,( Bath's Prolo,:11e and Tale i, one of C haucer's most
original storie s . Yet even here he confesses that he has depended upon
"old book s . " Two are of principal int erest . /fo1111111 de la R o .H' as elaborated
by J ean de Meun, and St. Jerome's statement upholding celibacy l l ia,111_,._
1111111.1 c1111 tra Jo 1i11i111111111 . Yet, Chaucer ha, created here a work of literary
art and good story tel ling that goes far beyond his source material. The talc
is. of cours e. an excmp/11111, t hat is. a tal c ll'l d to prove a point. And the
reader ,hould re me mber that the narrat or i, an old hag tel l ing a story about
an old hag who gained ,overeignty over her hu ,band.
 35

I n Chaucer's time, the literature was filled with the favorite theme of
vilifying the frailty of woman. Chaucer's tale, however, is not a moral
diatribe for or against woman. He has created a woman in the person of the
Wife of Bath who both exemplifies all that has been charged against women
but openly glories in the possession of these qualities. Chaucer goes further.
He asks the reader to accept woman's point of view and, perhaps, even feel
some sympathy for her.

Chaucer does not make it clear whether he sympathizes with the

Wife's opinion of marriage and celibacy, but it is obvious that he did not
agree with the prevailing notions of his time about celibacy.

In Chaucer's time, as in a lesser degree today, a second marriage was

considered sinful. The Wife's Prologue has been described, therefore, as
a revolutionary document. This is why Chaucer has the Wife so carefully
review the words of God as revealed in scripture. Nowhere, she confesses,
can she find a stricture against more than one marriage save the rebuke
Jesus gave the woman of Samaria about her five husbands. But this, she
confesses, she cannot understand.

There was also, in Chaucer's time, considerable praise for perpetual

virginity. The Wife now departs from holy writ and appeals to common
sense. If everyone should practice virginity, who is to beget more virgins?

The truly remarkable aspect of The Wife of Bath 's Prologue however,
is not her argument with the mores of her time, but the very wonderful
portrait of a human being. She tells the company she married her first three
husbands for their money, and each of them died in an effort to satisfy her
lust. Her fourth was a reveler who made her jealous and the fifth a young
man who tried to lord it over her and when she had mastered him . he un
graciously died. Surely, she moralizes, is this not the tribulation of marriage?

Despite her brash accounting of marriage, one gets the impression she
is not sure of herself when she exclaims, "Alas. that every love was sin ! "
Chaucer has given u s a portrait o f a n immoral woman. a coarse creature to
shock her age. But the author does not apologize for her. He leaves the
moral arguments in balance. One can only conclude that he believes that
unbridled sensuousness is not the key to happiness.

The Wife ,/' Bath's Tale simply undercorcs the Prolos:11e. Here she
again pleads for the emancipation of women in the M iddle Ages. :\tany
authorities believe that it was not Chaucer s intention to change the filthy
hag literally into a beautiful woman. Rather it is a change from a kind of
ugliness into a kind of beauty. Similar talc Y. c re widespread in Chaucers
time and he has done little to di sguie the fac t that he borrowed heavily
from them in devising his story.
36

T H E F H IA if S TA LE: PHOLOG U E
S u m mary
When the Wife of Bat h had finished her talc, the Friar wonders if
suc h academic problems shouldn't be left to the authorit ic'>. He now offers
to tell a talc about a summoner, but the Host admoni,hcs him to let t he
Summoner alone and tell something el se. But the Summoner interrupts and
says the Friar can do as he l ikes and will be repaid for a tale about a sum
moner hy one about a friar.

THE F HIAH'S TAL E

S u m m ary
There was once a summoner for a bishop who had developed hi'> c raft
to a very high degree. He had a crew of spies, including harlots, who would
seek out information on all of the persons living in the parish and such in
formation was to be used against them by the c hurch. Once the derogatory
information was in hand, he called upon the miscreants and squeezed ex
orbitant tribute from t hem so that their names would not be entered among
t hose doing evil.

Then one day t h e Summoner, as he made his rounds blackmailing the

ric h and poor alike, met a gay young yeoman bearing bows and arrows and
wearing a jacket of bright green and a black hat. The yeoman inquired of
his call ing, and the Summoner repl ied that he was a bailiff. " ' Well, I ' ll be
damned!' the yeoman said. ' Dear brother,/ You say you are a bailiff? I 'm
another. "

The yeoman said he li ved in the far north country and was on his way
there. Soon the conversation turned to their vocation of bailiff. " From
year to year I cover my e xpenses,' " the yeoman said. " r can't say better,
speaking truthfully.' " " ' It's just the same with me,' .. the Summoner said.
.. ' I 'm ready to take anything.' " They agreed to enter into a partnership.

The Summoner then suggested a swapping of their names.

" ' Brother, ' " the smi ling yeoman replied. "would you have me tel l ?
I a m a fiend. my dwelling i s in Hell.' "

The surprised Summoner t hen asked the licnd how he could appear
m various shapes. But the liend said in effect that the Summoner was too
ignorant to understand. Nonetheless the Summoner said he had made a
bargain to join forces with the yeoman. even if he was Lucifer him,c lf. and
he would honor his word. The bargain was ,ealed. and they began the jour
ney to the next village.
 37

Somewhat further on, they came upon a farmer whose cart full o f hay
was stuck in the mud. No matter how he whipped his horses the cart would
not move. In exasperation he shouted for the Devil to take all - cart, horse,
hay anci all. The Summoner urged the fiend to do as he was bid, but the
Devil explained that since the curse was not uttered from the heart and in
sincerity, he had no power to do so.
Later they went to the home of a rich widow who had consistently
refused to pay the Summoner bribes. The Summoner demanded twelve
pence, but she again refused. Then he threatened to take her new frying
pan. She then became so exasperated at the Summoner's continued threats,
she cried "the Devil take you and the frying pan.'' The Devil asked her if
she really meant these words and she said yes, unless the Summoner re
pented. The Summoner refused. The fiend thereupon dragged the Summon
er, body and soul, off to Hell where summoners have very special places.
The Friar ends his tale by hoping that summoners can someday repent and
become good men.
Com m entary
The Wife of Bath began discussing some academic problems. The
Friar continues by alluding to the qualities and powers of demons in this
world. Since the fiend cannot take the horse, cart and hay, we see that the
power of demons is limited.
The height of the irony is that the Summoner thinks the Devil looks
enough like him to be his brother. This is the indirect method of comment
ing on the Summoner's character and occupation.
While reading The Friar's Tale, remember that no personal quarrel
takes place between the Friar and the Summoner, but rather a quarrel about
their professions. The Summoner belongs to the secular clergy which in
cludes parish priests, arch-deacons, and bishops. The Friar, as a member
of a mendicant order, belongs to world-wide organizations, holding author
ity directly from the Pope, and independent of the jurisdiction of the
national church. This coexistence often leads to conflict. Thus, the Friar
boasts that he is beyond the authority of the Summoner.
Chaucer has relied here on similar stories, but he has given it form and
structure which raises it to the level of good literature. The conversation
between the fiend and the Summoner is a classic. The shameless Summoner
refuses to acknowledge his calling, and even after he learns the yeoman is a
fiend, refuses to break the partnership agreement because he finds the fiend
such charming if not evil company.

THE SUIMONEH' S TALE: PHOLOGU E

S u mm a ry
After hearing The Friar's Talc, the Summoner arose in his stirrups and
was so angry that he shook like an aspen leaf. He suggests that the Friar
38

told a wel l-doc u mented story since Friars and fiends are always good
friends. H e then recal l s t he story of the Friar who once had a vision of
hell. He had an angel guiding h i m through he ll. but he "'w no friars. He then
inquired i f there were no friars i n hell. The angel then asked Satan to l i ft u p
h i s t a i l . a n d suddenly m i l l ions of friars were seen swar m i ng around Satan's
arse-hole. The Friar awoke from his dream. quaking with fear over the very
thought of hi, fu t u re home.

S I I III lllll r!f

I n Yorkshire . in a marshy d i strict k nown as H o lderne". there was a
Friar who went about praying for his pari sh ioners. and casting a spel l over
t he m so t hat they would contribute money to the Friar,. But despite his
obvious piety, this priest wou ld go rrom door to door pro m i , ing prayer,
and su pplications to the Lord i n exchange for a n y t h i ng his paris hioner,
could give h i m . Followi ng him from door to door was a servant carrying a
large sack i nto which t he gift s were poured. Once back to t he convent . the
priest promptly forgot to make h i s prayers.

One day he came to the home of Thomas who had been i l l abed for
many days. The old man reproached the Friar for not having called u pon
h i m for a fort n igh t . The Friar repl ied that he had s pe n l h i s e n t i re time
pray i ng in Thomas behalf.

A t t h i s moment. the old man's wife entered the house and the Friar
greeted her excitedly and kissed her sweetly, c h i rping l ike a sparrow. H e
tel l s h e r he came to preac h a little to Thomas. S h e a s k s h i m t o talk about
anger, because Thomas is always so c rabbed and u n p leasa n t . But before she
goes. she offers the Friar some d i nner. The Friar accepted and then sug
gested lhat since he l i ved a l i fe of povert y, he needed little food . bul then
he suggested a menu su mpt uou s enough for a k i ng.

The w i fe adds one more word before s he goe s . She rem i nd , the F riar
that her baby had died very recen tly and the Friar quic k l y ack now ledged
( or pretends) that he k nows it becau se he and the other Friars had seen the
child being lofted u pward i n angelic flight, and lhey had offered a Te Drnm.
and they had also fasted . He then gives t h e wife a long sermon or lec ture
on the v i rtues of fasting and on the sin of gluttony. H e quotes the examples
of Moses' forty-day fast, the fast of Aaron and other prie s t s in the temple .
and even suggested that Eve was glutlonous.

The F riar then t u rn, to Thomas and embark, u pon a long sermon on
the nece ssity of avoiding excessive wealth and the blcS'ing, lo be re
ceived by the " poor i n spiri t . " He rec ited how t ho,c al lhe convent l i ved a
life or poverty. carefully avoiding exce,ses of gluttony. wea l t h . and drink.
H e ends by t e l l i ng Thomas how t he ent ire convenl prays for him every
 39

night, and Thomas should repay him for his prayers by donating a portion
of his gold for an improvement in the convent.

Thomas responds that he has given quite a bit to the friars in the past
and he can't see that it has helped very much. The Friar then points out
that he has diversified his gifts too much by giving a bushel of oats to one
convent, some groats to another, and a penny to this and that Friar. What
Thomas should do is concentrate his gifts and give everything to the Friars
who then would be the sole authority for Thomas' betterment.

The Friar then returns to his sermon on anger, quoting many author
ities connecting the sin of anger with satan and vengeful women. Once
Seneca pointed out how a ruler brought about the death of three innocent
men because of anger; angry Cambyses, who was also a drunkard, once
slew an innocent man, so beware of both anger and drink; and angry Cyrus
of Persia once destroyed a river because his horse had drowned in the
river. The Friar then tells Thomas to leave off his anger, and instead give
of his gold to the Friars. Thomas says that he has given enough, but the
Friar insists on something for his cloister. But the sermon on anger and the
Friar's insistence only made Thomas angrier.

Thomas then thought a moment and said he had a gift for the Friar
if it would be equally shared by all the Friar at the convent. But the Friar
would have to swear to share it. He quickly agreed. " ' Reach down ... Be
neath my buttocks,' " said Thomas, and there " 'you arc sure to find/Some
thing I've hidden there.' " Hurriedly the Friar placed his hand on the old
man's buttocks. At that moment, the old man let an enormous fart. The
enraged priest stomped from the house and made his way to a wealthy
lord's house. There, shaking with anger, he told how the old man had of
fended him. " T II pay him out for it,' " the Friar shouted. " I can defame
him ! I won't be . . . bidden divide what cannot be divided/ In equal parts.' "

The lord's valet, standing nearby, suggested a way the fart could be
equally divided. He suggested that a thirteen-spoke wheel be secured. At
the end of each spoke should kneel a friar. Strapped to the hub of the wheel
would be the old man. When he pa,sed his gas. the wheel could be turned
and thus each Friar could share equally. The lord and lady, all except the
Friar, thought the valet's answer all they could desire.

Commen tary
The reader should note some of the subtle irony employed in this story.
The Friar gives a sermon on fasting and glut tony. hut at the same l i me
orders a meal that would be rather gluttonous. H e speaks about anger, but
in doing so, gets very angry him;.elf. H e sermon i zes on the value of the
"poor in spirit" and po verty. but is openly insiste11t t hat money be given
to him. And while supposedly chaste. he is somewhat overly fa mil iar with
Thomas' wife. Finally fro m a large view, the story is tilled with academic
40

references which seem ironically mi,placed in a ,tory ..., hich deals with a
rather vulgar joke.

The coarseness of The S11111111011cr'.1 Tall' may offend some readers.

particularly the final part. Yet when con,idercd in the context of the Sum
moner's vicious story of the wretched hypocrisy of the Friar. the coar<,e
insult suffered is perhaps suitable di,cipline.

Chaucer has, with outspoken frankne" revealed the Friar for what he
1s. It is this. and not the plot. which gives the work literary value.

On the face of it. thi, is a humorous ,tory. Inherent in the tale. how
e ver, is a greater moral. Anyone who knows of the ,acrifice. nobility.
poverty. and purity of the early orders of the church mak es this talc a
tragedy rather than a comedy. I t wa, inevitable that the nobility of the early
Friars would be turned into the instrument for positive evil at a later time.
The Friar in C haucer's story even parrots the precepb of his pious founder.
They become a hollow mockery.

The reader should . perhaps . compare the two ,eh of tales which were
told to repay someone else. The Reeve told a talc to repay the \1iller. The
Summoner tel ls a tale to repay the Friar. I n both cases . the latter tale tend,
to be the coarser of the two and each time. the laq of the two tales has
less wit and less subtlety. It seems as though the Reeve and Summoner
both rely upon excessive vulgarity in order to repay the previous narrator
with viciousness.

THE CLERK'S TALE: PROLOGCE

S u m ma ry
After the Summoner concluded his story. the Host turned to the Clerk
from Oxford. .. ' You haven't said a word since we left the stable.' the
H ost said. . . ' For goodness sake cheer up ... this is no time for ahstru,e
..
meditation./ Tell us a lively tale .' The Clerk bestirred himself and agreed
to tell his story. which he said was told to him by a learned gentleman of
I taly named Pet rarch.

T H E CLERK'S TALE
S u m mary

PAHT I
In the region of Salu1.zo in I taly. there lived a nohle and graciou, k ing
named Wa lter. H i, subjects held him in high esteem. Y et the re ,, a, one
thing that concerned him. Walter enjoyed his freedom to roam the country
,ide and refu,ed to he hound by marriage.
 41

One day a delegation of the lords of the kingdom called upon him and
humbly beseeched him to seek a woman whom he would wed. The king was
so impressed with their petition that he agreed to marry. Concerned lest
he did not mean it, they asked him to set a date and this was done.

The lords even offered to find a suitable bride. To this the king de
murred. He would choose the woman and would marry her if they would
agree to be subservient to her forever. The lords agreed.

PART I I
The day of the wedding arrived and all preparations were completed.
The populace was puzzled, for the king had not selected his bride. It hap
pened, however, that nearby there lived the poorest man, named Janicula.
He had a beautiful and virtuous daughter named Griselda. The king often
saw her as he traveled about and looked upon her form and beauty with a
virtuous eye.

Shortly before the wedding was to take place. Walter went to Janicula
and asked for permission to marry his daughter. The old man agreed and
then Walter sought out Griselda and won her consent. Walter, however,
made one condition: he made Griselda promise to always obey his will and
to do so cheerfully even if it caused her pain. And furthermore, she is never
to balk or complain about any of his commands. Griselda assented to these
conditions and they were married.

In marriage, those qualities of patience, virtue, and kindness which

Griselda had always possessed began to increase so that her fame spread
to all the lands far and wide. People came from great distances simply to
behold this paragon of virtue. Shortly afterwards, Griselda bore her hus
band a daughter. There was great rejoicing because now the people knew
that she was not barren and would perhaps bear him a son.

PAHT I l l

While the baby was still suckling at her mother s breasts . the k ing re
solved to banish any doubt about his wife's st eadfastness to him. He called
her to him and told her that one of hi s courtiers would soon call for the
child. He expressed the hope that tak ing the child from he r \, mild in no way
change her love for him. She said it would not.

The kings agent arrived and took the child. G r i selda did not ll t l l'r one
v.ord which indicated hate for her husband. Time passed. and ne v e r in any
way did Griselda show loss of love for her husband .
42

PAHT t \

Four year, pa,,ed and t h e n < , ri,elda bore her hmba ml a ,on. and t he
people were happy t hat an heir to t he t h ro n e had been born. When t he ,on
wa, t wo year, old Walter aga in de<.:ided lo te,t h i , w i fe', pat ience and
fidel i t y . H e went to her and told her t hat ,he mu,t give u p her son. Again
,he took the new, pa t ient l y and '>aid t hat if thi, wa\ hn h u sband', wi,h
she would abide by h i s de<.:i,ion in good grace.

When Wal t e r' s daughter v. a, twe l ve year, old and t he \on ten. he
decided to p u t G ri ,elda lo one lin;ll tc,l. He had a Papal H u l l forged de
claring Wal ter free of G ri,elda and g i v i ng h i m perm i " ion to marry another
woman. Then he ordered hi, si, ter. with whom t he c h i ldren had been
placed , to bring h i , daughter and \On home. Plans were t he n set in motion
for anot her wedding.

P:\HT \'
Walter now decided t o put G ri ... elda to her greate,t te,1 . He called her
before him and showed her the counterfe it Papal perm i., sion and told her
of his i ntent to marry agai n . He e x plained t hat hi, subjec t -. thought G ri ,elda
of t oo low a birth and he m u st lake a woman of h igher birth. G ri,elda took
t he news with a sad heart, but aga i n wit h great patience and h u m i l i t . ,he
,aid that she would abide by her h u ... band's dec ision and would return t o
h e r fat her's home. She takes not h i ng w i t h h e r a n d explains to Walter t h,11
she came naked from her fat h er, house and will return t he ame. but a,k-..
for perm ission to wear an old , mock to cover her naked ne". So ... he re
t u rned to her fat her who rec e i ved her w i t h sad ness, and t h ere she re mained
for a s hort t i me.

PAHT \"I
Through i t a l l , G riselda went pati e n t l y and i n good grace abou t her
work h e l p i ng to prepare t h e beaut ifu l you ng girl . \\ hom , he did not recog
n ize as her daughter, for t he wed d i ng. H u t Wal ter could ,tand h i , c ruc l t }
no longer. H e w e n t to G ri,elda a n d confe ssed t hat t he bea u t i fu l y o u n g girl
and t he handsome boy were t h eir child ren and t hat t h l'Y had been given
lov i ng care i n Hologna. He confes,ed t ha t t h e c ruel t e , h had been per
fec t l y met by G ri selda and t hat he could fi nd no more pat ient and ,teadfa,t
woman. They l ived i n bliss and when Wal ter died, h i ,on ,ucc eeded Ill
the t hro ne.

The C lerk end, hy ,aying t hat women ,hould not fo llll\\ '>O completely
G ri .,elda', e xa m ple. but everyone ,hould he n1 n,t,1n1 i n t he face of adv er
s i t y . A nd t hen, addre , , i ng t he Wife of Bath. he s;1 y s he w i l l s i ng a ,l1ng
praising t he ge ntle virtue, of G ri,elda.
 43

Commentary
The reader should remember that this story is told as a result of the
Wife of Bath's s tory about women who desire sovereignty over their hus
bands. Thus the Clerk tells a story with the opposite v iew: t hat of a woman
who i s completely submissive to her husband.

I t i s apparent that the C lerk, a student a t Oxford, was no gri nd. The
Host's warni ng against too lofty and pedantic styie was not necessary.
A fter the C lerk concluded, the H ost declared enthusiastically that the stu
dent had told h i s story i n an "honest method, as wholesome as sweet."

The tale was not an origin al one with C haucer. A s he has the Clerk
declare at the outset, C haucer relied upon Petrarch's Fable of Obedience
and W(fely Faith which was a considerably shortened translation from
Boccaccio's Decameron.

What can one possibly conclude from t h i s tale of a virtuous young

peasant girl suddenly lifted from poverty and placed among the riches of
the palace? Her sweet nobility, however, overcomes both sudden pros
peri ty and also adversity created by her h usband .

I s i t possible for a woman to possess t h i s overwhe l m i ng patience a nd

u nquestion ing obedience? Perhaps many modern women would consider
G riselda a rat her ridiculous creature. C haucer's portrait of this tender
maiden may tax one's i magination, yet history is full of ac tual people and
situations which match or surpass t he seeming peculiarity of The Clerk's Tale.

There is also t h e question of one's moral d u t ies. G riselda simply did

what was com mo n practice a t the time she was created by Petrarc h : She
was a wife, a mother, and a subject of the k i ng. We have little to judge
Chaucer's feel i ngs about Griselda.

The character of Walter is another matter. The man is selfish, spoiled,

and wantonly cruel. Yet, C haucer coal s this bitter pill by tel ling u s t hat he
is young, handsome, good-natured, and lo ved by his people. He revels i n
his eccentric choices of G ri selda as h i s queen and seems to take some
pleasure in being cruel to her. It must be said that Walter is t horough.
Twelve years of m isery for his wife, and seldom do we w i t ness the sl igh t
est spark of remorse !

The structure of t h i s story, therefore. grows out of the nature of the

two main c haracters. Walter seems to be as determ ined to he wa nton in h i ,
testing of G riselda as G ri selda is in being s u h m i s i v e to Wal ter, per
verted demands. Eac h then possesses a s i ngle q u a l i t y and these arc ccn
pit ted against each other.
44

T H E \I E HC I I A :\ T' S TA L E: PHOLO G U E
,\oi II 111 11111 1"!/

The \ l c rchant hegi n, hy say ing he ha-.. no ),UCh wife a G riselda. H e

make, it cl ear t hat h i s -..tory w i l l c haracterize wives of a d i ffe re nt sort . The
\l crc ha n t . who i -.. very old and only rec e n t l y married, says he got a wife v. ho
has rut him t h rough hell in only t wo short month-.. of marriage. H i, i ntoler
ahle \\ i fe makes his life m i serahk . The H o,t hegs him to i m rart a rort ion
of h i s -..orrov. .

T H E \ I E H C I IA:\T'S TAL E
S II 1 1 1 111(11"!/
I n Lomhan.l y. in lhe low n of Pavia, the Merc hanl hegan. there l i ved a
rrospero u -.. k n ight named J a nuary. When he pa ssed h i s -.. i \ l ie t h year. t h e
k n ight decided lo ahandon a life of wanton ( u q a n d marry a heau tifu l young
maiden \\ ho l i ved in the c i t y . H i -.. reason-.. were c lear enough. H e wi,hed to
fu l fi l ( God ' s wish that man and woman should marry. H e also wi shed to
have a son to i n h erit h i s estates.

The \ l crchant offers such h igh praise of marriage and such praise of
the role of the wife that it hecomes apparent that he i s being sarcastic. H e
then provides many example-.. o f goo<l women - wom en l ike Rebecca.
J ud i l h . A higail . Esther. and quotes freely from Seneca. Cato a nd the
Hihle. ( I n actuality. t h e examples of the good woman are cases where t he
\\ Oman had heen the cause of t h e destru c t ion of a man . )

The matter was d i scu ssed w i t h h i -.. hrot her J u -..t i niu-... a nd \\ i t h Place ho.
J u -.. t i n i u s argued vehemently against ma rriage. po inting out t he fa ithful
ne-..s of women a, a major pitfal l . Placeho, however. argued the other \\ ay
and cou nseled J anuary 10 make up h i s own m i nd. for 1his was not a matter
on which to seek advice.

J anuary fina l l y dec ided 10 marry. He looked over t he c rop of young

maidens and c hose the heau t i ful young girl named \ l a y . H e then cal led
h i , friend, together in ord er lo annou nce h i s wedd ing and ask help in solv
ing a d i le m ma. H e wanls to k mm aho u t t he old say i ng t h at marriage is
heaven on earth . A nd i f he i s supposed to have heaven on eart h. how l'an
he he s u re of c hoosing the right wife . H i -, friend. J u s t i n iu s. said t hat per
naps h i , \\ i fe \\ ould he more of a purgatory t ha n a hea ven. But Ja nuar
\\ enl ahead \\ ith the wedd ing plans. The \\ edd i ng fea,t was a .. u mpluou-,
a ffair. hut it la,ted so long t hat J a nuary hecame i mral ie n t for the gue'>ts
lo lea , e -..o t h ;,t he might enjoy h i -.. wedd ing hed. f i nally. he was obl iged
to ask h i -.. gue-..ts to leave. and when t h e prie-..t had hles ,ed t he marriage
hed. he fu lfil led h i , role as hu shand. T he nexl morn i ng. he sat up and sang
like a hird i n heJ. and hi, loose ,kin around his neck a l ,o shook like a
hirJ's nec k .
 45

It happened that one of January's serving men was a handsome youth

named Damian who was smitted with love the moment he first saw the fair
May. So remorseful was his unrequited love that h e was taken to bed. Upon
learning of this, January sent his wife and other women of the Court to
Damian's bedside to comfort him. Damian found this an opportunity to
pass a note to May in which he professed an undying love for her. Later
May responded with a note to Damian acknowledging his desires.

One day January was suddenly stricken with blindness. Hi s heart was
sad and as the blindness continued, his evil thoughts of j ealousy toward
h is wife could hardly be contained. He now insisted that May remain by
him all the time. He would not let her to go anywhere unless he had hol d
of her hand. She was nevertheless able lo send messages to Damian. By
prearrangement, May admitted Damian to the Knight's garden which was
kept under lock and key for his personal use. Later that day, May led
January into the garden and signalled for Damian to climb up a pear tree.

We leave Damian in the pear tree and visit the gods. Pluto and h i s
wife were discussing the situation involving J anuary and l\lay. Pluto said
t hat he was going to restore January's sight because women arc so dece it
ful, but he will wait till just the right moment lo do so. But his wife, Proser
pi na, sai d m e n are so lec h erous t h a t s h e w i ll prov ide l\ l ay w i t h a
believable excuse.

Later, May led January to a pear tree where Damian was perched.
Then she offered to climb up into the pear t ree. beneath which they sat.
and pluck a ripe pear for his enjoyment. In the tree above. of course, sat
Damian . Soon the young couple was locked in amorous bli ss. A t that mo
ment, January' s sight was miraculously restored. He looked up and saw the
young couple in an embrace . He bellowed with rage. May, however . was
equal lo the occas ion. His sight was faulty: it was the same th ing as awaken
ing from a deep sleep when the eyes are not yet accustomed lo the bright
l ight and see strange things dimly. She then jumped down from the tree. am.I
January clasped her in a fond embrace.

C ommenta ry
This is the second tale handling the cuckolding of an old husband by
a young bride. The first was The Miller's Tale. The difference between the
character of the M iller and the Merchant can he seen by comparing the
manner in which each tells a similar story.

The choice of names supports the story. J anuary ( t he old man) m;1 rri e ,
May (the young woman) after reject ing the advice o f Justinius ( t he just or
righteous man) and following the advice of Place bo ( t he na11ering man) .

Some have condemned Thi' ,\lcrclw 1110\ Tulc a, a s e n s e k.,-, , tl,r l,f
harlotry . There is much more to be said for it. C haucer has g i \ e n u, lllll'
of h i , ti nc,t c h,1racter ,ketche, i n t h i , talc. Old J a n u a r y , now in h i s dotage.
s i m p l y hargained for more than he wa, capahle of. Throughou t t he ,tory .
C h aucer's po i n t of v ie w occ u p i e s o u r a t t e n t io n . I t i s not her fa i t h lc,, nc,s
t hat concerns u -. hut her very c lever i n t rigue and her s u preme audacity of
escaping when ,he i s caught. I t would have hcen a s i m ple mat ter for
C haucer to give t h e ,tory a t ragic e n d i ng. The clement of t ragedy is , u rely
t here, yet C haucer c hoose, to put his hero i nto a foo l ' s parad ise. The ,pirit
of t h e story i s comedy . m,t i m mora l i t y .

T H E SQU I IUt S TA L E : P HOLOG U E

S u m ma ry
The H ost turm. to the Squire and requ e s t s a not her tale of love. The
Squ i re sa ys he will not tell a talc of love hut a talc of ,omet h i ng ehe. re
q u e s t i ng t h a t he he exc u sed if he ,ay , a n y t h ing a m i -. s .

T H E SQU I H E ' S TA L E
S u m m a ry
At Tza rev in t he land of Tartary t here l i ved a nohle k i ng named
C a m h u , ka n . H e was e x c e l l e n t i n every t h i ng and hi, , u hjeci... held him in
h igh e s t e e m . Thi, c o m pa s s ionate m o narch hegat two sons of his w i fe
Elpheta. They were A l garsyf and C a m balo. A no t h e r c h i l d . a daughter. was
named C a nace and no fai rer c reature ever graced t h i , ear t h .

A t t he t i m e o f h i s t we n t i e t h a n n i versary a s k i ng. C a m bu skan ordered

t ha t a l a v i s h celebration be h e l d . In the banqu e t h a l l , as t h e re velry wa,
at its height, t here sudde n l y appeared a t t he doorway a k n ight u n k nown to
t h e people o f Tzare v . W i t h h u m i l i t y and grace. t h i s k n igh t named Ga\\ a i n
annou nced t hat he h a d come t o t he c elebra t ion heari ng g ift s from h i ,
,overeign lord . t h e k i ng of I ndia a n d A rahy.

One gi ft was a brass horse which could fly faster and fart her t ha n a n y
known crea t u re . B y p re s s i ng a m agic l e v e r i n t he horse' s ear. t h e a n i m a l
Y. ou ld transform i t se l f from a rigid p i e c e o f statuary into a l i ve l y yet
ge n t l e horse.

The second gift was a m i rror which could i n form t h e owner o f the
i n nermost t houghts o f frie n d s and enemies, and recou nt t h e pas t . and fore
t e l l t h e fu t u re .

The t h i rd gift w a s a ring w h i c h would enable t h e wearer t o u nderstand

the language o f a n y l i v i ng t h in g . he it hu,h or hird : fu rther. the ri ng enabled
t h e wearer to speak in the la nguage of a l l t hese l i v i ng t h i ngs.

The fou rt h g i rt wa, a sword w h i c h wou ld slay any hea, t , k mrn n or

u n k nown, and c u t t h ro u g h C \ e n t he hard est roc k .
 47

The knight was thanked profu sely for his gift s and bidden to join the
feast. The king, meanwhile, gave the ring to his beaut iful dau ghter. Early
the next morning she arose, dressed, slipped on the ring, and entered the
palace garden. In a nearby tree sat a female hawk crying piteously. Smitten
with compassion, C anace climbed into the tree and, through the power of
the ring, inquired of the hawk what had caused her u nhappiness. The hawk
related the story of how a handsome young male hawk had. wooed and won
her in marriage and how he tired of her and took up with a beautiful kite.
So remorsefull was the jilted female hawk that she left her homeland and
wandered aimlessly about the earth. Canacc took her to the palace and
restored the hawk back to health.

The Squire said he would also tell of how the mirror, horse, and sword
profoundly affected the lives of the king and his sons. At this moment, the
Franklin breaks in and insist s on telling his story.

Commen tary
Virtually everything about The Sq uire ' s Tale resembles countless
similar stories found in Oriental literature. Why Chaucer never fi ni shed
his tale has never been discovered. Scholars have long puzzled over
The Sq uire 's Tale, perhaps because it is less than half told.

The tale aptly fits the character of the Squire. H e had been to strange
lands, and had perhaps heard of strange magical events. And s imilar to
The K n iR h t ' s Tale, T h e Squir e ' s Tale is fil led with m u c h el abora te
description.

WORDS OF THE FHA N KLI'.\' TO THE SQ U I RE

S u m m a ry
The Franklin interru pts the Squire's talc to compliment him on his
eloquence and gentility. He wishes that his own '.->On were more like the
Squire or wou ld imitate the Squire ' s manners and virtues. But the H o'.->t
is not concerned with gentility, and he instructs the Franklin to tell a talc.

THE F HANKLIN'S TALE: PHOLOGU E

S u m m a ry
The Franklin interrupts The S q uirl' .1 Tale to compliment him on h i s
0

eloquence, and he says h e will repeat thi s t a l c to the pilgrims, hut t h e y

must forgive him for h i s rude a n d plain speech hccau s c he never lc;irned
rhetoric and never stud ied the classic orators. A nd the only .:olors lw can
use to enrich his talc arc those he h;1s not i.:ed in t h e meadm1 s .
48

TH E F HA :\ K L l :\ ' S TA L E
S II 11l llltl ry
I n lhe land of Brillany, in France, t here l i ved a k n ight named A rver
agu s . He wa, noble, pro,pero u , . and cou rageou , . Yel with all these bles,
,ing, he wished lo lake a wife. He found a beaut ifu l maiden named Dorige n.
The} , owed t hat t hey wou ld al way, re,pecl each other and practice the
s t rictest forbearance lowards each other, words and ac t ions. Thus sol
e m n l y pledged, t hey were wed.

Soon after the marriage. A rvcragus had to go to a d i stant land for two
} Cars 10 re plenish h i s wealth. While he w as abse nt. Dorigen was so u n
happy. forlorn, and grief stricken w i l h her hu ,band ' s ab,ence that ,he sat
and mou rn ed and refused to join her neighbor, i n revelry.

N earby to Dorige n's Castle was the rock y coast of France. I n her
grief. she often sat on the shore. observed the roc k s . and med i tated on the
reason of e x istence. The sight of the gri sly bare roc ks made her apprehen
sive for her hu sband ' s safety because many men had lost t heir l i ves u pon
t hese d read ful roc k s . She even w o nders w hy God allowed '\O many men
lo be ki lled on these roc k s , and wishes they would d i sappear into hell.

One day in May. however, she at tended a gay picnic. A l so present was
A u re l i u s who had been secretly and mad l y in love with Dorigen . He mus
tered e nough courage to a pproach a nd tell her of his love for her. She
repudiated his advance s . He became so d espondent she belie ved she must
do som e t h i ng to ra ise h i m from h i s depths of despair. She said, half-jok i ngly,
t hat she'd agree to his embraces if h e would remove all t he roc k s from t he
coast of B rillany. B u t t h i s was i m possible, he cried . A u re l i u s retu rned
home where he prayed to A pollo to send a flood w h i c h would cover t he
roc k s so t hat he might t h e n hold Dorigen to her pro m i s e . H e went into a
spell of complete despondency and was cared for by h i s brother.

M eanwhile A rveragus retu rned home and was joyfu l l y reu n i t ed with
Dorige n. Rut to ret u rn to A u rel i u s : for two years he lay sick because of
h i s u nrequ ited love for Dorigen . During this t i me, his brother cared for
h i m and was told of his love. Then the brother t hought of a way to solve
the dilemma. He k new of a student in sout hern France who clai med to
have deciphered the secret codes of magic found i n rare book s. A u re l i u s
went t o h i m a n d promi sed payment of 1 .000 pounds i f his magic would
clear t he coast of roc k s . The student agreed and the deed was performed.
A u rel i u s t he n asked Dorigcn to keep her promise. When Arveragus re
tu rned, he fou nd his wife pro s t rate with grief. She t old him the story llf
her bargain and he said she m u st keep her promise. although it would grieve
him deepl y . Dorigen presented herself to r\ u re l i u , . When he learned of
the nobi l i t y and sacrifice of A rveragu , . he could not force him self to
possess Dorigen and sent the relie ved \\ ll lnan bac k Ill her husband . A u rc-
 49
lius gathered all of his gold together and found he could only pay half of his
fee owed the student. The student, when told that Dorigen was relieved of
her part of the bargain, acquired a noble demeanor and forgave Aurelius
of his debt. The Franklin concluded, "Which seemed the finest gentleman
to you?"

Commen tary
The Franklin is somewhat subservient in the way he insists upon
paying compliments to the Squire and in the way he sides with the Clerk
in emphasizing the need of patience in marriage. In fact this tale is con
nected with many that pr..:cede it. The Knight's and Miller's Tales involve
a three-way love affair. The Franklin is also striving for something in be
tween the complete sovereignty advocated by the Wife of Bath and the
patience suggested by the Clerk. The Franklin's couple base their mar
riage on mutual trust and faith in each other.

The chief virtue of The Franklin's Tale is the noble spirit which
pervades it. Here we have the beautiful Dorigen who refuses to be unfaith
ful while her husband is away; the duty to keep a promise even though it
may be spoken in jest. Indeed, so powerful are the words of good here that
the lover and the poor student are obliged to accept a degree of nobility.
Supporting all this is Chaucer's main theme that love and force are anti
thetical, and patience and forbearance are the essence of love. Chaucer
is not one, however, to let a story become overly sentimental, and through
out the tale sly humor makes its appearance.

The Franklin's question - which of the three seemed to be the finest

gentleman - probably cannot be answered. This literary device. however,
surely provokes a picture of heated debate between the members of the
company. Perhaps many of us will agree that Arveragus erred when he
demanded that his wife make a sacrifice for a pledge made in jest. None
theless, his noble deed begets nobility from the other two, demonstrating
that is is possible for good to overcome evil.

THE PHY S ICIAN' S TALE

S u m mary
There was once a knight named Virginius who was rich. kindly. and
honorable. The knight had only one child. a beautiful fourteen-year old
daughter. Her beauty was beyond compare. and she was endowed with all
the other noble virtues: patience, kindness, humility, abstinence and
temperance. The Physician then departs from his story and addresses all
people who are involved with bringing up children. telling them that they
must set the example for the child.

Returning to his story. the Physician said the girl and her mother went
to the town one morning. On the street a judge named Appius saw her. He
was taken by her beauty and was determined to have her. A fter pondering
on a scheme , he sent for the town's worst hlac kguard. called Clau d i u , ;ind
paid him well to take part in the plan.
50

C la u d i u s t he n acc u ,cd t h e n o h l c k night of h a v i n g , t o l e n a serv a n t

girl fro m h i s hou,e m a n y year, ago a m.I h;1, kept her a l l t h c ,e y e a r s pre
t en d i ng that ,he i, hi, daughter. Heforc the k n ight had a c hance to call
w i t ne,ses. A pp i u , the judge ruled t h a t the child m u st he hrought to h i m
i m mcdiat d y a , a ward o f t h e court .

V i rgi n i u , retu rned home and called h i , daughter i n t o h i , presence. She

m u s t . he said. accept d ea t h . or shame at t he hands of C la u d i u s. S i n c e the
k n ight could never accept the shame. he w i t hd rew h i , , word and c u t off
h i s daughter , head. H ol d i ng it hy t h e hair. he went to the j u dge and handed
it to h i m . The j udge ordered t he k n ight h u ng for m u rder. At t ha t moment a
t h ro ng of cit izens . a roused hy t h e judge , t reachery. t h rew t h e judge i n to
pri,o n . C la u d i u s was to he h u ng hut the k n ig h t pleaded for h i s l i fe and sug
gested o n l y e x i l e . w h i c h was done. ' " H ere."' said t h e P h y s ic ian . "one can
sec how s i n i s paid i h wage s . "

Commen tary
..
Th, P/ry.1 icia11 '.1 Talc hegi n s , " L i v y has handed down a t a l e to u s . . .
There i s no doubt t h a t Titus L i v i u , h i ,tory i s t he ,ou rcc o f C haucer, talc .
but t here is a subqant ial d i ffere nce hetwccn t h e m . I ndecd , , t u d c n t s of
C haucer n o w be l i e ve t h a t C haucer never consul t ed L i v y at a l l hut bor
rowed t h i s story fro m J ea n de :\ 1 c u n , Roman clc la R o .1 1. C hauccr's talc
puts the e m phasis on t he lovcli ne,s and c h a s t i t y of the girl, w herca, t he
French version places t h e mo,t e m p h a , i s on the u nj u , t j udge a m.I t he
p u n i sh m e n t meted out to h i m .

C haucer's s tory, however . i , made m u c h more i nt e r e , t i ng by added

description and t h e i n t roduc t ion of d ialogue, par t i c u larl y bet ween \' ir
g i n i u s and h i s daughter.

T H E PA HDO:\' EH'S TA LE

\\'O H D S O F T I I E H OS T TO TI I E P I I Y S I C L\ :\
:\ :\ D TI I E P:\ H DO:\ E H

S II 111 111 llr"!/

The H o , t was terribly upset by '/'/1c l'hy.1 1cia11 ., rate. H e called the
j udge a low blac kguard and t reac herous m a n . The H os t thinks t ha t t he
pilgrim, need a merry talc to follow and t u rn , to t h e Pardoner who agrees
to t e l l a merry t a l c . I he more genteel m e m hcr, of the c o m p;i n y fear t h a t
t he Pardoner \\ i l l t e l l a riba l d , t o r y and a , k for ,omct h i ng w i t h a mora l .
1 he P;1 rdoner a,b for ,omc t h i ng t o d ri n k , a n d h e w i l l t e l l a moral t a l c .
 51

THE PARDONER'S PROLOGU E

S u mmary
The Pardoner explains to t he pilgrims his methods used in preaching.
He always takes as his text Radix malorum est (Love of money is the root
of all evil). His techniq ue is as follows: first, he shows all of his official
documents, then he uses some latin : following t hat he shows his relics
which include a sheep bone for good luck in preventing diseases in animals
and will bring a man wealt h and cure jealousy: a mitten which will bri ng
more money when the Pardoner recei ves his money for the relic. Address
ing himself to the audience, he announces t hat he can do nothing for t he
really bad sinners, but if all the good people will come forward, he will sell
them relics which will absolve them from sins. In this way he had won a
hundred marks in a year. N ext, he stands i n the pulpit and preaches very
rapidly over the sin of a varice so as to intimidate the members into donat
ing money to him. He acknowledges that many sermons are the result of
selfish and evil intentions, and he even admits that he spits out venom
under the guise of holiness; and even though he is guilty of the same sins
he is preaching against, he can still make other people repent.

The Pardoner then admits that he likes money, rich food, and fine
livi ng. A nd even if he is not a moral man, he can tell a good moral talc.

Commentary
The Pardoner's Prologue is i n the form of a confession. Even though
he is essent ially a hypocrite in his profession, he is at least being honest
here as he makes his confession .

Not ice that h e takes as h i s text that " Love of money i s t h e root o f a l l
evil, " but with each relic . h e emphasizes how it will bring the purchaser
more money. And in emphasizing this, he sells more, and gains more money
for himself. Thus there is the double irnn y in his text, since his love for
money is the root of his evil, and his sales depend upon the purchaser' s
love for money. Furthermore. his techn ique of relying upon hasic ps'.- -
chology by selling only to the good people brings him more money. H i s
sermon on avarice i s gi ven because the Pardoner is fi l l ed w i t h a\ aricc . ;1nd
this sermon fills his purse with mo ney.

THE PAHDO:XEH' S TALE

S 11 111 11wry
I n Flanders, three youn g me n sat in an inn after drin l-. i n g . ga m b l i ng.
and swearing all night long. The Pardo n e r no\\ stops his ! ; t i c ;1nd gi\ n ; i
rather long sermon di rected aga i n , t d rinking. gam bl i ng. an d s \\ e;1ri ng.
and glut tony . He suggests t hat glut tony was the c1L1 sc o r I o t ' s i ncest . it
caused Herod to have John t he Haptisl hehcadcd . and it caused l' \ C 1 ,,
eat the frui t. He quotes St. Paul and claho ratcs more on the s i n of eat i ng
and d ri n k ing to excess. H e t h e n atlacb coo k , who contribute to gluttony
by prepa ri ng d i ,hes too succulently. H e turn s to w i ne and drunkcnnc,,
;111d 4 11l1tc, a u t hon l ic, and e x a m ple, to affirm the e v i l of d r i n k i ng. 1 hi,
lead, h i m 1 11 1 0 ,ay i ng hov. evil ga m b l i ng i , ,incc it lead, to lyi ng, ' " caring
and v. ;"tc of prope rl y . He c i t e , ag;1 i n the hi,1or of g;1 mbling. H e clo,e,
hi, ,1. 1111011 \\ ith a long d ia 1 r i h1. aga i n ,t ,we.iring.

l f c rc tur,,... ll> 1hc,1. t h ree rioter, "of whiche I telle who were drinking
\\ hen the } heard he l l , ,l1 1 r n d i n g v. h ich ,ignificd that a coflin wa, pa....., i ng
t h e i n n . I he young m e n a,ked the ,crvant to go and fi nd out Yo ho had died.
I he I.id told t he m 1 1 \\ a, 1101 necc,,ary , i ncc he already k new. The dead
men \\ .a, .1 fr iend of their, who wa, stabbed in the hack the night before
h, ,li me "1ea k y t h i ef cal led Death - t he ,ame thief who took ,o man} live,
i n the ncighboring town recently. The young rioter, though t that Death
m ight , t i l l he in the next town, and they decided to seek him out and slay
h i m . On the way, they met an ext remely old man dre s,ed rat her poorly. The
rioters comment on his ad vanced age. He explains that he mu,1 wander the
earth u ntil he can find someone who will be w i l l i ng to exc hange youth for
age . He says that not even Death will take h i s life. Hearing h i m speak of
Deat h. the t hree you ng rioters ask t h e old man if he k nows where they can
find Deat h. He told the t hree men t hat he had last seen Death under a t ree al
the end of the lane. The rioters rush to the t ree and fi nd i n stead e ight bu... hel,
of gold. They decide Lo keep t he gold for themselves, but arc afraid to move
it i n the daytime. They d ecide to wait for the night, and they d raw s t raws
to ,ce which one will go into town to gel food and w i ne to hold t h e m over.
The youngest of the t hree d re w the shortest s t raw and started for town.
As ,oo n a, he had left, the two decided Lo kill the youngc , 1 and ,plit the
money between them. B u t the you ngest dec ided that he wanted a l l of the
money. H e goes Lo t h e d ruggisl and bu y s poison that will k i l l ra ts q u i c k l y .
H e huys three hol l ies of wine and pours t he poi,on i nto t w o of them. \\'hen
he approach e s the t ree, t h e t wo i m mediately stab him and then they sit
down and dri n k all of the wine. Thus ended these homicides.

The Pardoner now decries against s i n and rem in d s t he pilgri m s t hat

he has pardons that they can buy. H e i n vites t h e m Lo buy from him and he
v. ill i m mediately record their names as purch aser,. He ,uggc,ts that t he
Ho st ,hould begin since the H ost is the most s i nfu l . Hut in turn, the Ho,1
attacks the Pardoner, i n t i ma t i ng that the Pardoner " not a fu l l man. The
Pardoner became so a ngry he could not speak. The "- n ight re,tored peace
and they rode forth on their way.

C 0111 111 111 t a r y

The Pardoner i s one of the most complex figures i n the e n t i re pil
gri mage. H e i s certa i n l y an r ntcllectual figure : h i , refere nce, and k no\\
ledge and use of p,yc hology al lest to his intellect. Hut i n mak ing h i s con
fessions to the pilgri m , about his h y pocris y , he seems lo be sa y i ng t hat he
 53

wished he could be more sincere in his ways, except that he does love
money and power too much.

H is tale is told to illustrate his preaching methods. It is often consid

ered one of the finest examples of the short story. Its brevity and use of
dialogue and its quick denouement fufill the standards for a good short story.

There has been much argument as to the meaning of the old man. Per
haps he is death itself, or perhaps a mystic figure like the "Wandering Jew."
But his function in the story is clear. He is the instrument by which the
three rioters find Death. And for the Pardoner, a conscious practitioner of
hyprocrisy, this old man is a splendid example of hyprocrisy in the way he
deceived the three rioters.

Note that at the end, the host implies that the Pardoner is not a full
man. We know from The General Prologue that he has no beard, and now it
is implied that he is perhaps impotent or perverted. Perhaps it is this con
dition which causes the Pardoner to be so cynical, and yet there are sug
gestions that he would like to be different.

The popularity of this tale is easy to understand. It is a tragic story, or

at least an ironic tragedy. It is the Pardoner's own lesson: the love of money
is the root of all evil, and those who covet money covet death and find it.

The Pardoner's Tale, however, is Chaucer's adaptation of a popular

fable thought to have its origins in the Orient. It is not possible to determine
the exact source of Chaucer's story. H ere again, however, the artistry of
Chaucer is evident. No known fable bearing this plot employs the dark
background of the Plague or the sinister figure which the three drunken
men meet in their search for Death.

THE SHIPMAN'S TALE

Su mmary
There once was a merchant in St. Denys, the Shipman began, who was
rich and had an uncommonly beautiful wife. They lived in a splendid house
which, more often than not, was filled with guests.

Among these guests was a handsome young monk about thirty years
old. The young monk was on the best of terms with the kind hearted mer
chant. Indeed, to avail himself of the merchant 's hospitality the young
monk stated that they were cousins, or very nearly related. since both were
born in the same town. So happy was the merchant about this relationship
he vowed he would always regard the monk as a brother.

It happened that the merchant, as was the cu stom in tho,e d;1 y,.
planned to go to Brussels to purchase ware s. He invited !he young monk to
his home for a few days before he left. The monk gladly accepted.
.5 4

On t he t h ird day of the monk's v i s i t the merchant went to his cou n t i ng

room to total up h i , dchts and money to ,cc where he s tood financ ia lly
hcfmc he kft for B ru ssel,. While t he merchant was thus engaged, t he monk
was in the gard en. Soon the merc ha n t ' s wife ent ered the garde n . The monk
remarked t hat she looked q u i t e pal e and ,uggcstcd wryl y t hat perhaps her
hu shand had kept her awake all night at play. " ' N o . COLl ',in m i ne,' " t he
..
mcn:hant', \\ ifc protested . .. " t h i ngs aren't l i ke t hat with m e . ' She t he n
said s h e cou ld k i l l herself hecause t h i ngs had gone , o had ly w i t h her.

The monk then sa id, " 'God forhid . . . U nfold your grief. . . ' .'' She agreed
to tell h i m her pro h l e m of marital neglect if hoth swore t hemselves to
secrecy. They took a sol e m n vow, and she told t he story, a nd apologized
. . t h e monk c ried,
for hcra t i ng t he monk's cousin. " 'Cousin i ndeed !'
" ' H e ' s no more cousin to me/ Than is this leaf, here. hanging on t h e t ree . ' "

Finally, t he merchant's wife hegged the monk to loan her one h u ndred
fra ncs to buy some t h ings her frugal hu sband had den ied her. The monk
agreed to bring her the money as soon as the merchant left for Brussels.
Then he drew t he wife to h i m and ki ssed her madl y .

A fter d i n ne r t h a t n i g h t , t he m o n k d re w the merchant a s i d e a n d begged

h i m for a loan of one h u ndred francs to purc hase some cal t l c . The merchant
gladly gave him the money.

The next day t he merchant left for Brusseb. Soon after, the monk
arrived at the merchant ' s home and, as agreed, i n exc hange for t he money.
the wife agreed to spend the n ight i n bed with t he monk.

Some time later the merchant made another business trip and on hi,
way stopped by the monk's abbey to pay a social call, but not to collect the
loan. The monk, however, said he had paid the money to the merchant ' s
wife o n l y a day o r t wo after it had been loaned .

When the merchant retu rned home, he chided h i s w i fe for not hav ing
told h i m the loan had been repaid. Then :,,he e x plained that she had u sed t he
money to buy fi ne clothes. The merchant saw that t here was no poi nt i n
scolding h e r fu rther a nd concluded, " . . . Wel l, I forgave you w h a t you
spcnt , / H u t don't be so extravagant agai n . ' ..

C 0111 11H' 11 I a ry
This talc fit s the personal i t y of t he S h i pman. A t h ief and a pirate. he
t e l l s a gro s s l y i m moral story . The monk not o n l y hctraycd his vow.., a.., a
m,111 of God, hut also had a dcliherate di sregard for common d ecency to
ward a man v. ho had opened h i :,, home to h i m . I ndced, he falsely c u l t i v ,1t cd
t he merc ha nt's friendship hy professing that they were in some way re
lated. The monk then went fu rther by be t ra y i ng t he merchant's wife.
Final ly, t h e monk left her in an cmharrassing s i t uation ahout t he loan.
 55
The laugh i s o n the merchant a n d his wife. The moral of the story is,
perhaps, that adultery can be very amusing and profitable, provided that it
is not found out. Chaucer's tale has a fine sense of narrative and the char
acters are well-designed but yet there remains the rather distasteful portrait
of lust and treachery.

This story is presumed to have been original l y told as a French fable.

There is a question, however, about why Chaucer assigned this tale to the
Shipman. At the beginning of the tale, the narrator says our husbands want
us to be hardy. wise and good in bed. The use of the pronoun suggests that
Chaucer intended to assign this story to one of the female members of the
party , and probabl y by the nature of the tale, intended it for the Wife of
Bath. When he changed hi s mind, Chaucer apparently forgot to eliminate
this i nconsistency .

THE PRIORESS' TALE: PROLOGUE

Summary
The Prioress begins by addressing the Virgin Mary and extolling the
praises of Mary. The prologue is thus a hymn of praise, in which the virtues
of the Virgin are praised.

THE PRIORESS' TALE

S u mmary
I n a Christian town in Asia, there was one quarter of the town where
Jews l i ved. They were kept by the lord of the town for usurious purposes.

At the far end of the street through the ghetto stood a school for young
Christian children. The children were free to walk through the street to
and from school.

One of the pupils was a mere child who had not learned to read and was
only beginning to recognize the Latin of hi, prayers. At school he heard
the older children singing O A lma R C'de111plori.1 . Day after day he drew
near as they sang and listened carefull y. Soon he had memorized the first
verse even though he had no notion of what the Latin mea nt. One day he
begged another lad to tell him what the song mea nt and the older lad sai d :

" . . . This song, I have herd seye,

Was maked of our blisful Lad y free .
.
H ire to salue, and eek hire for to prcyc . . . .

Thus when the child learned that the song was in prai,c of the Virgin :\ l a ry,
he was delighted and decided to learn the entire song Sl> that on Chris t 111;1s
day he would pay reverence to Christ , mother.
.5 h

S o e very Jay t h e c h i lli wou ld go along t he J c ..., i s h street s i nging the

-..ong holdly anu dearl y . A t ahout t h i , t i me the Serpe nt Satan whi-..pcred
to t h e J e w s that t h i s si nging hoy was a d i sgrace to t h e m and the -.. i nging
was being done to spite t he J e wish H oly Law-...

The Jews t hen hegan conspiring. A murdere r .... .. , hired and one day he
graspeu t he c h illi, s l i t his throat. and 10,scd hi-.. hod y in a cesspool.

The c h i l l.I ' s m o t h e r . a w i d o w . w a i t e d a l l t h a t n i g h t . W h e n t h e

-.. u n ro se, s h e went t o t he sc hool where she got t n e news h er son was last
seen i n th1. street of t he J e w-... She made inquiry of the J e w s from house 10
house, anu all sail.I t hey knew nothing of the c h i ld . Then J esus put i n her
t houghts the d irec t ion to t he alley where he had been mu rdered and the pit
where her hoy was cast.

A s the widow neared t he place. the c h illi ' s voice hroke fort h singing
0 A lma. The C h ri s t ian people gathered arou nd in astonishment. The
Provost of the city was called . and upon see i ng the c h i lli . hadc all Jews be
fe t t e re d a n d c o n fi n e d . T h e y w e re l a t e r d ra w n h y w i l d h o r s e s a n d
t hen hanged .

The c h ild was taken to a neighboring abbey. A s t he bu rial mass d rew

near, t he child continued lo s i ng O A lma loud and c lear. H e then told t he
abbots t hat C h ri s t had com manded h i m to s i ng u n t i l h i s t i m e for burial anu
t hat, al the same moment, t he Virgin :\l ary laid a grain upon his tongue.

" ' A nd . . . I must s i ng,' " the c hild said, " ' For love of her, . . . / Till from
my tongue you take away the grai n . ' " The monk took a way t he grain. and
t he child "gave up t h e ghost . .. peaccfu l l y . ' ' Later a tomb of marble wa-..
erect ed as a memorial to t he young boy.

Com m e n t a ry
Tire Prioress Prvlo 1-: 111' is aptly filled to her charac ter and pos 1 1 1on.
She i s a nun whose order relies hea v i l y upon t he patronage of t he V irgi n
l\fary. Furt hermore. h e r h y m n to t h e Vi rgi n l\f ary act s as a pre v iew to t he
tale which concerns t h e same t ype of h y m n of praise s u ng for t he Virgin.

To u nderstand Tire Prioress Tale, one m u st first u nderstand the hack

ground for tales such as t hese. In medieval England. t h e C h ri s t ian hatred
for the J e w s took the form of a re l igious pa-..sion. T h i s passion wa, pe
riod ically re newed by stories -..uch a-.. t h i s one and pa-..sed a long as true.

The fi rst s tory of this sort was wri 1 t e n hy Socrates i n t he fift h century .
The story w a s " localited" i n I 1 44 when S t . W i l l iam o f Norwich \\ as ,up
posed to have heen murdered by J e w s . The nu mher of t hese martyrdoms
has never been accurately accounted for. hut one authori t y i n 1 74.5 re
cou nteu fi ft y- t wo. The belief pers i s t s in -..ome parts of Europe today.
 57
A legend so widespread as this could not fail to appear in the literature
of Chaucer's time, although the particular source of his story has never
been discovered.

I n this tale, as in so many of Chaucer's, the author lays most of the

emphasis on the human aspects of the tale rather than the supernatural.
Chaucer, of course, has not slighted the glories of the Virgin Mary nor the
wickedness of the Jews. But his chief interest centers on the child and
his mother.

S IR TOPAS: PROLOGUE
Summary
The Prioress' Tale of the miracle of the child naturally sobered the
pilgrims. But soon the Host told jokes to liven the group and then turned
to Chaucer. He asks "what kind of man are you since you are always look
ing at the ground." The Host then comments on Chaucer's physical ap
pearance and tells him to come forth with a tale. Chaucer explains that he
knows only one story: it is in rhyme and he heard it a long time ago.

CHAUCER'S TALE OF S IR TOPAS

Summary
The Prioress tale of the miracle of the child naturally sobered the
pilgrims. But soon the Host told jokes to liven the group and then turned
to Chaucer. " 'Who might this fellow be?" He inquired, and then suggested
that Chaucer tell his story.

Far across the sea, in Flanders, there l ived a young knight by the name
of Sir Topas. His father was a titled nobleman who possessed much wealth.

Sir Topas was a handsome man. He was a great hunter, an accom

plished archer, and a skilled wrestler. Every maiden in the land spent restless
nights pining for his love. But Sir Topas took l ittle interest in these maidens.

So, one day, he rode away to the forest and after an exhaust ing ride.
he paused at nightfall beside a watering place. When he fel l asleep he
dreamed that an Elf Queen had slept beneath his cloak. When he awoke he
was determined that he would ride to the ends of the earth in search of an
Elf Queen. Nothing would requite his love.

He rode on. Soon he met a three-headed giant who bade him depart
this part of the forest, for i t was the k i ngdom of the Elf Queen. The G iant
threatened death should Sir Topas fail to leave. The knight accepted the
challenge and then rode away to his home to secure his armor and prepare
for the great battle with the giant.
58

A t h i s father's c a s t l e h e feasted e l ega nt l y and p1 e p;1red for t h e bat t l e

w i t h t he fi ne s t a rmor and weapo n , .

II E H E T I I E HOST S T l :\ T ET I I C I L\ l' C E H
OF H I S T:\ LE O F TO P.-\ S
S 11111 111llry

The H ost i nterru p t s C haucer crying " l o r ( i od ' s ,akc. no more of

t h i s . " And h e added. "I a m C .\ hau,ted hy t hese i l l i t erate r h y m e s . " He th e n
a s ks C haucer to leave off t h e rhymes and t e l l ,omc t h i ng i n prose. Ch a u c e r
agre e s to t e l l a lilll<' t h i ng i n pro se . hut warn, that he m ight repeat some
of the proverbs that t he pi lgri m s h;1vc heard before .

C 0111111111 Ill ry
I t is. of course, i ro n i c that < haucer ,ay, to the H o q t hat t h ese a rc t he
best rhyme;. t ha t he c a n do. Eac h ,tanza i s fi l l ed \l. i t h t rad i t ional c l iche, and
absurd speec h . C haucer wa, m a k i ng fu n of h i m , c l f. ridic u l i ng this t y pe o f
l i terature. a n d bel i t t l i ng the people who read t h i , t :,, pc of poetry. A nd mm,t
i ron ic of a l l is t hat C haucer a ssigm t h i s s i l l y talc to h i m,cl f.

Furthermore . \I. h e n t h e H ost i n terru pts Chaucer . he pretends to he a

l i t t l e offended say i ng tha t these arc h i s best rhymes. A n d t he n C haucer
p ro m ises a /i11fr thing i n p rose with a few fam i l iar prov erb,. but he pro
ceeds to write a lo ng. d u l l talc t h a t rambles on forever and is filled \I. i t h
m any pro verbs.

Thi' Tall' 11( Sir Topa.1 has long puzzled scholars. A t t h e time C haucer
\I. rote it. t h ere were a l ready i n c \i s t encc score-. of tales of hand some
k n igh t s i n search of ad v e n t u re and fa i r maidens. A l l of t h e m \\ ere nai \ l: l y
s i m p le. long- w i nded. l arded w i t h m i n u t e descri ptions, and plotted \\ i t h
i mprobabil i t y .

CHAUC E H' S TALE OF l E L I B E E

S 11 111 111ll r y
The pri n c i pa l c haracter i n t h e tedious debate i s Dame Prud ence. the
w i fe of M c l i bcc. The princ i pal subject i s .,., hcthcr \\ c should ;1vengc a
viol e n t i nj u r y by further violence. I t so happened t hat \\ hen :\lcl i hcc a m.I
h i s wife were a wa y t hree burglars e ntered t h e i r hlimc a nd ,crillll s l y i nj u red
t he i r daughter Soph ia. The 4ucst ion was: Should t he y tal,.c rc , c ngc u plin
t h e burglars?

In t h e cou rse of t h e a rgu ment a varicty of s u bjec t , a ri se a nd arc dc;dt

with i n a l earned manner b y doctor,. la\\ y e r,. c l eric , ; 1 nd m;1ny 1lthcr,.
T h e se , u bj c c t , i n c l uded t he 1 mport;incc o f not 111 a l- i 11g (, 1,d a n c nc m y .
\l. h c t h e r ,, 11 mcn arc to he t ru stcd. and \I h c t h n pr i 1 . 1 t c rn e nge i , lb nger1H1 ,.
or mora l l y j 11 , t i fi;1hlc. 11r e , ped icnt
 59

Finally, the t hree burglars are found and brought before Dame Prud
ence who astonished and delighted t he ruffians by her suggestion of a peace
ful settlement. H e r hu sband, Melibee, decided to let them off with a fine,
but Dame Prudence vetoed this. Melibee then forgave the burglars, re
buked them, and extolled his own magnanimity. What happened to Sophia
was never learned.

Com mentary
The Tale uf Melihee is, as one authority describes it, a prime example
of a l iterary vice of the M iddle Ages - an essay abo u nding in dull common
placeness, forced allegory, and spiritless and i ntermi nable moralizi ng. Some
think this tale is a misc h ievous co mpanion to C haucer's Tale uf Sir Topas.
At any rate, the tale was not C h aucer's own but a translation of a French
tale, Le Li1-re de Melihee et de Dame Prudence, which in turn had been
translated from the Lati n work, Liher C011sulatio11is et Consilli by Albertano.

THE MONK'S TALE: PROLOGUE

S u mmary
The H ost, true to h i s middle-class upbringing i n medieval England . was
delighted with the marvelous tale of Dame Prudence, the benign, gentle,
and u nderstandi ng woman. C rowed he: " 'A s I'm an honest man . . . I 'd
rather have had my wife hear this tale . . . . ' " H i s wife, he explained, drove
him continually to acts of dishonesty and v iolence.

Then the Host turned to the Monk and demanded a story which he
confidently expects to be a merry tale. But he is d i sappointed, for t he Monk
began a series of tales i n which t ragedy was the theme. Some of the stories
he warned might be fam i l iar to his hearers and some might not .

THE MONK'S TALE

S u mmary
A fter rec it ing brieny the fal l of A dam and Luc((er, the Monk told the
story of Sam.1 011 whose great feats of strength made h i m ruler of I srae l.
But t ragedy befell h i m when he married Delilah and told her one night that
his strength was i n his hair. To his enemies Delilah sold the secret . They
cli pped away his hair. put out h i s eyes, and threw him i n a cave where he
was the subject of jeers. One day he was asked l ll show his fea t - o f ,trength
and. his power restored. he destroyed the temple of his enemies ;ind its
3 .000 in habi tanh. The monk morali zed that men should not tell t he i r w i ves
secrets that should re main secret.

N e xt the Monk related the story of llerc11ll'.1 and him his great fe;1ts
of strengt h and bravery led h i m i nto a l l the regions n f the eart h \\ here he
slew an i nfinite variety of monsters. H e rc u les fe l l in l1l \ C \\ i t h the beau t i fu l
60

Deianira and soon she fashioned h i m a gay s h i rt . But its fabric was poi soned
and when he donned it h i s life ebbed. D i sdaining death by poison, H e rc u l e s
t h rew h i mself i nto a lire. Let all successfu l m e n . t he r-.lonk mora l i zed. be
ware how Fortune elec t s lo plot t heir o vert hrow.

The Monk conti nued w i t h t he stories of Neh11clwcl11e:.:.ar who was

t u rned into a n animal u n t i l he re pented his idolatrou, s i n -. . and o f /laltlw.r nr
who refu sed to abandon t he ways of the wicked, de,pile G od ' s warning,
a nd u l t i mately lost his k i ngd om.

The l\l o n k ' s seventh ,tory was of Zenohia, a Pers ian woman who was
not only beaut ifu l but of great s t rengt h and courage . She feared neither
man nor beast. One day she met and fe ll i n love with Prince l denathus. also
a great warrior. They were wed and she bore him t wo sons. Zenobia and
her hu sband swept all foes before t he m a nd ruled a vast region as far away
as t he Ori e n t . The Prince died but Zenobia and her sons cont i nued to rule
and s howed t h e i r captive nations no mercy. Then one year A urel ius. t he
great Roman e m peror, i n vaded Zenobia's k i ngdom, took her and her sons
captive, and in Rome t hey were jeered and gaped at.

The l\lonk then said that the mighty m u st always be o n guard against
treachery. He related briefly stories to prove h i s poi n t . K in,: Peter of
Spain was bet rayed and slain by h i s own brother. Ki11g Peter of Cyprus
was slain by h i s own companions. Bernaho of Lomhardy was k i l led i n
prison at t h e i n st igation o f h i s nephew. Count U,:olino of Pirn was i mpris
oned with h i s t h ree c h i ldren and left to s tarve. A fter some time, t h e ch il
dren began to c ry out for bread . Then the youngest d ied. The cou n t began
to gnaw h i s own arm and one of t h e c h i ldren offered h i s own flesh. F i nally
t h e o t her c h i ldren starved a nd later t he Count also d ied from starvation.
Thus many of t h e mighty, after reac h i n g t he height of power, are betrayed
and brought low.

Men who r i se to power and fa me are also dangerous to themselves.

Nero rose t o great fame. H e loved all t he fi ne and del icate t h i ngs i n the
worl d . To satisfy his i magi nat ion, he had Rome burned, he k i l led people
s i m ply to h ear t he sounds of weeping and h e even k i l led h i s mother so as
to c u t open her womb a nd observe his place of birt h . But when his t ime was
up, he could find no person w ho would shelter him or even kill him. He
finally had to kill h i m self.

/fohfirn1.1 was once so powerful t hat he made the entire world give
up worsh i p of indi vidual gods and pay homage to Nebuc had nezzar. B u t
as he l a y drunk in h i s tent o n e night, J u d i t h s l i pped i n a n d c u t o ff h i s head.

Good fortune s m i led so readily upon A 11tioc/r11.1 that he considered it

possible for him to reach t he stars. Out of h i s hat red for t he J ews. he at
tempted to des troy them. but God sent down i n v i s ible pa i n s upon h i m . I n
 61
spite of the pain, he still proceeded to execute his plans. God then caused
him to be crippled and made his body stink so badly that all people avoided
him. Finally, he died a wretched and lonely death.

A lexander was so courageous that nothing could keep him from great
deeds of valor and heroism. But eventually his own people turned against
him and poisoned him.

Julius Caesar rose from a simple birth to become the mightiest man in
the world. He was indeed blest with good fortune for a long time. But finally,
even fickle fortune turned against him. Brutus and his cohorts stabbed
Caesar to death, but even in death, Caesar remained a man as indica!ed by
the way he covered himself with his cloak when he was dying.

The king of Lydia, Croesus, considered himself lucky after he was

sentenced to death by fire and a heavy rain came and put out the fire. From
there on, he thought himself i mmune to death. But he had a dream which
was explained by h i s daughter as meani ng that he woul d soon die
by hanging.

Here the Knight interrupts the Monk.

Commentary
The Monk, unlike the Pardoner, will not permit himself the luxury
of jest nor the undignified tale. Each of the Monk's stories is much like the
others. It is not clear why Chaucer wrote these stories for the Monk. They
are monotonous, and the inevitable moral of each comes as no surprise lo
the reader. Some authorities believe that Chaucer at one time considered
writing a book of tragedies in the manner of Boccaccio. Indeed, Chaucer
depended upon Boccaccio's work for his stories of Adam, Samson . Baltha
sar, Zenobia, Nero, and Croesus. Biblical narrative provided him with
several of the other stories. His stories were sometimes incomplete, and
Chaucer did not arrange them in chronological sequence : this perhaps
accounts for the sense of whim and spontaneity of The M onk's Tale. Since
Chaucer never completed his book of tragedies, it is believed that they are
used in the Canterbury Tales simply because they were available and
seemed suitable for the Monk to relate.

THE NUI\' 'S PHIEST'S TALE: P HOLOGU E

Sum mary
The Knight interrupts the Monk crying that his tales of woe arc too
much lo bear. He asks the monk to tell a tale about a poor man who ri,c s to
good fortune. The Host agrees with th.:: Knight and adds that th.:: s tori.::s
were so boring t hat he almost went to sleep. He e ntrea t - 1 h .:: :\lonk 1 0 tt::11
a merry tale, but the Monk want s someone else to take a turn. 1 h.:: H o,t
turns lo the Nun's Priest and calls for a talc.
62

TH E N tT ' S P H I EST'S TA LE
S 11 111 111a r !f
Once long ago in a s m a l l cottage near a meadm\ , t h e N u n's Priest
began, t here l i ved a widow and her t wo daughters. T h q had bare l y e nough
to keep t he m co mfort able. A mong her posses,ions was a cock cal led
C ha u n t i c leer. T h i s rooster was a beau t i fu l sight t o behold . and nowhere i n
t he la nd was t here a cock who could match h i m i n c ro w i ng. C hau ntic leer
was t he master in -;ome measure of seven h e n s . The lovelie,t of t he ,e wa., a
beau t i fu l and gracious h e n named Lady Pert elote. S h e h e l d t h e heart of
C hau nt icleer.

Now it so happe ned t ha t o n e spring dawn a s t hese hirds sat on t he i r

perc h , C ha u n t ic leer began t o groan a n d l u rc h . . .
..
o
deare,t heart . / What's
ailing you '!' said Pertelo t e. C ha u n t icleer t he n recou n t ed a terrible d ream
he had o f a k i n d of beast or hound roa m i n g in the ya rd t r y i ng to seize h i m .
H i s color a n d marking were m u c h t he ,ame a s a fo x .

. .
" For Same . . Pertelote said . " fye on you . . S h e told h i m that it wa,
CO\\ ardly t o be a fra id or d reams. and hy s h tm ing ,uch fear he has lost her
love. S h e told him he d reamed because he ate too much and t ha t no one
should he afraid of d rea m s . It i s well k no w n t hat d re a m s have no meaning.
She quotes Cato who says t hat d re a m s have no ., ignilicance. Thus, s h e
reco m m e n d s a good l a x a t i ve for C ha u n t icleer. a nd e x p l a i n s the relat i \ e
value o f e a c h l a x a t i v e . S h e e v e n offers t o pn:pare t h e cat hartic, t o b e fol
lowed by a feast of choice worms.

C h a u n t ic l ee r grac iously t ha n k s Pert elote, hut he will quote a few a u t h

o r s who m a i n t a i n t ha t drea m s ha v e a v e r y d e fi nite meaning. H e recalled
the story o f t wo pi lgri m s w ho arri ved i n a busy tow n . I h e re \\ a s a large
c rowd so t he y could not fi nd lodgi n g together. The first p i lgrim found one
room i n a n inn, but the second had t o sleep i n a nearh} harn. During t he
n ig h t , t h e second pi lgri m appeared to t he first i n a drea m , ,aying t ha t he
was being m u rd ered and c ry i ng for h e l p. Hut t he fi rst pi lgri m p u t t h i , d ream
out of his mind and went back t o sleep. T he n i n a second d ream . t he com
panion a ppeared aga i n and said t ha t the m u rderer was t o s s i ng h is hod y i n
a d u ng cart w h i c h w o u l d be found a t t h e c i t y ' s g a t e t h e n e x t morn ing. T h e
next morn ing t h e c o m p a n i o n arose a nd sought h i s friend i n the b a r n . H e
was t o l d t h a t h i s friend was gone. T h e first pilgrim searc h ed for t he d u ng
cart, and sure e nough t here was t he body of h i s friend.

C h au n ticleer then moral izes o n m u rder, and i s very pleased with h i s

story, s o pleased t hat h e t e l l s another one. Two m e n \\ ere t o s e t sail t he
n e x t d a y . hut one d reamed that t he y \\ ere s u re to be d nrn ned a nd refused
to go. H i s companion laughted a t h i m for be l ie v i ng in d rea m s and \\ ent hy
h i m se l f. B u t as t h e s h i p was j u s t a s hort d i stance out to sea . it s;, n l,. and
everyone was d rowned.
 63

Chaunticleer sees that his narration is affecting Pertelote, so he

quotes several more authorities. He reminds her of St. Kenelm who saw
his own murder in a dream. Fu rthermore, the Drea111 of Scipio, Daniel and
Joseph's interpretation of dreams, and Andromache's dream should be re
membered. And thus he ends his long speech with the conclusions that he
needs no laxative.

Chaunticleer then felt that he had perhaps been too harsh on dear
Pertelote, and he turns and compliments her on her looks and quotes to
her the Latin phrase " I n principio, mulier est hominis confusio" which he
translates as "Woman is man's sole joy and bliss."

The Nun's Priest leaves Chaunticleer in his victory and pride with his
seven ladies, and turns to the fox. This fox named Daun Russel has been
hiding near the farmyard. The Nun's Priest now comments on traitor such
as this fox, and compares him with such traitors as Judas and Ganelon. He
follows this with a discussion of divine foreknowledge.

Returning to the plot, the Nun's Priest relates how Chaunticleer was
watching a butterfly when he caught sight of the fox. He began immediately
to run, but the fox called out in a gentle voice for Chaunticleer not to be
afraid of a friend. He explains that he only came to hear Chaunticleer's
beautiful voice. He maintains that he has only once before heard such a
fine voice and that belonged to Chaunticleer's father. Now the fox wants
to see if Chaunticleer can sing as well as his father could.

Thus, the vain cock shut his eyes and burst into song. At that moment
the fox raced to the cock, grasped him about the neck. and made off with
him. The hens in the barnyard made such a terrible commotion that they
aroused the entire household. Soon the Widow, her two daughters. the dogs.
hens, geese. ducks and even the bees were chasing the fox. I t was so noisy
that one would think the heavens were falling down.

Chaunticleer then says to the fox . - - why don't you turn around and
throw a few insults at them." The fox thought this a good idea and as soon
as he opened his mouth. Chaunticleer escaped and flew to a t ree top. The
fox tried to l ure Chaunticleer down by compliments and sweet talk. hut
Chaunticleer had learned his lesson.

The Nun's Priest closes his tale by suggest ing that his tale doe, have
a moral.

Commen tary
In The Nun's Priest's Tale. we have Chau cer at hi, best. >..;ow . of
course, animal stories are commonplace. and they ha, e been a part of man's
literature since earlie st time s . Perhaps Chauc er d rew u pon two , imilar
fables. the French Ro111w1 de ffr ll(m/ and the G e rman lfr i11lwr1 Fuclt.,.
64

N onetheless he impro ved upon t hese earl ier stories, by making his version
much more real and much more i n terest i ng.

He did t h i s by simply humanizing the rooster. Hoth the roo,ter and man
have t he same quality i n common - va nity. The fox prac t ice, obvious flat
t ery which is preemincntly the qual i t y ofa tyrant.

Now if an imals can talk, as i ndeed they do here, t h e n they can d ream
and finally can d i sc u ss with great erudit ion the plau ,ibility of d ream,;.
C haucer leads us charmingly t h rough these stages i n de veloping C haunti
c leer, Pcrtelote, and t h e Fox into i n d i v iduals suffering all the foibles of
h u man nat u re . Yet never does Chaucer let u s forget that t hese charact ers
are but a coc k , a hen, and a fox. ror if we were to forget. the delicious
h u mor of the story would be lost.

The reader should also remembe r that as the Priest i s tell i ng his story
of C haunticlecr a nd his seven hens, the Priest is in a similar si tuat ion him
self since he is the confessor to a group of n u n s .

This tale i s filled with many t y p e s of i ronies. The reader should be

aware of t h e h u man aspect s of t hese barnyard c reatu res. Pertelote even
refers to C hau ntic leer's beard : yet i n spite of their h u ma n i t y they are never
t heless barnyard c reatures. That they thus speak so learned ly and so nobly
is an indirect comment on the abs u rd i t y of h u man aspirations.

The mock heroic tone should also be noted . The story is filled with
c lassical allusions, w i t h d i sc u ssions abou t d i v i ne forek nowledge. and with
a high moral tone. To offer a d i scussion of div ine foreknowledge i n the
context of a barnyard chicken i s the height of comic irony: t hat is, to have
a foolish rooster being caught by a fox u sed as proof of d i vine foreknowl
edge is absurd . And to compare the plight of C haunt icleer to that of
H omer's H ector and to suggest that the c hase of the fox is an epic c hase
s i m i lar to classical epics ind icates t h e absu rd i t y of this situation.

It is lik ewise comic t hat C haunt icleer tra nslates the Latin phrase in
correc t l y . He t ramlates it as meaning that "woman i s man"s joy and bliss."'
B u t it ac t u a l l y m e a n s t h at w o m a n is t h e d o w n fa l l o f m a n . A n d s i n c e
Pertelote docs not want t o believe i n C haunticleer's d ream . she is i ronically
contributing to h i s and u l ti mately her downfal l .

T I I E S ECO:\ D :\ U :\ ' S TA L E : P HO LOCl' E

S II Ill /11(1 ry
I d leness is a liend t hat e ncourages vice and t hat fiend is forever
lay i ng a t rap to catc h people in h i s s nare. S i m:.: l d kn.:s, i s sll d readfu l . the
Second Nun s;1ys she will J'll) low h.:r ad \ ic.: and get i m m.:diately do\\ n to
 65

the business of telling a tale. She offers to translate t he life of St. Cecilia
for the pilgrims.

The Second N un offers an invocation to Mary. She asks for help in

rendering accurately this tale of a maiden who remai ned true to her faith
and conquered over the Devil. The Second Nun then praises the glories of
Mary, the maid and mother. She asks forgiveness for possessi ng no more
artistry with which to tell her tale.

The Second Nun now offers an Interpretation of the Name Cecilia.

It means I ) heavenly lily for her c haste virginity; 2) the way for the blind
by the example of her teachings ; 3) holiness and busy-ness because of the
derivation of the name from Latin ; 4) wanting in blindness because of her
clear virtues; and 5) heavenly because of the brightness of her works
of excellence.

C ommentary
Since Nuns in Chaucer's day were compelled to read stories of the
saints, this is an apt selection for the Second Nun simply because she is a
nun. Her i nvocation to Mary is typical for all stories, but more so here since
the story of St. Cecilia is a story of chastity. And the interpretation of the
name was a favorite device during Chaucer's day. Let it suffice here to say
that the i nterpretation is not correct from an etvmolo11ical viewnoint.

THE SECOND NUN' S TALE

Sum mary
There was once a noble young woman of Rome who loved c hastity so
much that she wanted to remain a virgin forever. But in time, she was given
to a young man named Valerian in marriage. Wh ile the c hapel bells were
ringing for her wedding, she was prayi ng to God to keep her c haste. That
night after the weddi ng, she told her new husband that she had a guardian
angel who would slay anyone who violated her body. Valerian asked to see
the angel if he were to believe her. Cecilia tells him that he must first go
to the Appian Way and there be baptised by Holy Urban.

Valerian went to Urban who rejoiced to see what power Cec ilia had
that she could convi nce a young man to be bapti sed. He praised God for
Cecilia's chaste counsel. Suddenly, an old man appeared to t hem in a vision
saying t hat there is one God and one fa ith and no more. Then the vision dis
appeared. But Valerian now believed and allowed himself to be bapt ized.

When he returned home, he found Cecilia wi t h an angel holding a

crown of lilies and a crown of roses. The angel said t he crowns came from
paradise, and no one will ever be able to see them unless he is chaste and
hates villainy. The angel t hen granb Valerian a wish. Valerian explains that
he has a brother whom he would like baptized into this great truth. But the
66
bro ther, Tiburcc. had objections. He did not wanl 10 be h u nted for an out
law as is Pope Urban . Bui when Cec i l ia explains that lhi, l i fe i s not so im
portant as t h e next. he asks other question, about the C h rist ian faith which
Cecilia carefully ex plained. Then Tiburcc al lowed h i m self to be baptizcd.

Later, a n ollicial named A l mac hius d i scovered the C h risl iam, had t he m
am:slcd a n d ordered t he m lo sacri fice 10 the pagan god s . Su pported by
Cecilia. Val erian a m.I Tiburce refu sed and were ,cnle nced IO death. An
other oflicial was so moved by t heir refu sal t hal he became a C hri stian and
was also executed.

When C ec i l ia was brought before lhe judge. he a,ked her many que,
lions which she a nswered c leverly and wittily. She imulh the pagan god s,
and infers t hat A l machius i s rat her vain and ignora n t . She i s sente nced to
death by bei ng placed i n heated water . but this fa i l s . Then an executioner
w i t h a sword appeared and l ricd t h ree t i mes 10 cul ofT her head and did nol
complete l y succeed. Cecilia conti nued to l i ve for t h ree more days. con
verted more people to the churc h and fi na l l y died after willing her house
to be made into a c h u rc h . Pope U rban buried her body and proclaimed
the house t o be that of Sai n t Cecilia.

Com m e11 tary

C haucer has repeated i n The Second N1111.1 Tale an almo,l verba t i m
t ranslation of an earl ier a n d fam il iar Lat i n version. Despite t he legend"s
i mprobab i l i t i es and u se of the supernatural, the talc i s filled with t he noble
spirit of high rel igion. Lit t le i s k nown of lhe historical Cecilia. H er mart yr
dom is assigned t o t he reign of Severns ( A . D. 2 1 2 -2 3 5 ).

THE CANON'S YEOIAN'S TALE: PHOLOGUE

Sum mary
A fter t he talc of Saint Cecilia, two men rode rapidly up to the pilgri ms.
O n e w a s j u d ged lo be a C a n o n b y h i s b l a c k d r e s s . The o t h e r w a s t h e
Canon's Yeoman. Both seemed pol i te and t h e H o..,, welcomeu t hem and
asked i f either had a talc he could t e l l . The Yeoman anwered i mmedialelv
l hal his master knew lots about mirth and jol l i t y . He then proceeded to tell
about t he Canon. They l i ved on t he edges of towns and avoid t he mai n
roads. When asked why his face is so discolorcd , t he Yeoman explai ned
how he had to work w i t h fu rnaces and fires. and h i , color is from his con
t i nually hlowing. The Yeoman hegins lo tell the ,ec rels of their t rade. a nd
all he knows aboul alchemy. The Canon attempts 10 stop h i m . hul lhc Hos!
will allow no 1 h rea1 s . When t he Canon sees t bal t he Yeoman i s goi ng IO tell
every t h i ng . t he Canon s l i ps away i n shame .

TH E CA:\'ON'S Y EOL\ ' S TA LE

11 111 111<1 T!f
PA HT I
Parl one is act ually a l y pe of prologue w here the Canon ' s Y coman
 67

explains about their occupation and attempts at alchemy. He says that he

is so deep in debt now that he will never be able to repay it all, and as a
result of all his labors he has received this complexion and weak eyes. He
explains about the various objects and equipment that they use in the
practice of their craft. And everytime an experiment fails, the master tells
him to begin again.
PART II
Once a Canon lived in London and practiced alchemy. He once bor
rowed a mark from a priest who reportedly had plenty of silver, and
promised to return the mark in three days. The priest agreed but didn't
expect to see his mark again. Therefore, he was very pleased when it was
returned in three days. Furthermore, the Canon offered to reveal a couple
of his discoveries. He sent for some quicksilver, and by tricks made the
priest think that the quicksilver had been turned into real silver. The priest,
not noticing the trick, was very pleased. The Canon then pretended to put
an ingot of chalk into the fires, but he slipped a real ingot of silver in when
the priest looked away. Again, the priest thought the chalk had been turned
into silver. For a third time, the Canon filled a hollow stick with silver and
plugged it with wax. When he placed it in the fire, the wax melted and silver
poured forth. The beguiled priest wanted to buy the secret. The Canon
asked for forty pounds and made the priest promise not to reveal the secrets
to anyone. The Canon then promptly disappeared.

The remainder of the tale is an attack on the subject of alchemy and a

conglomeration of all the ridiculous terms used by alchemists.
Commen tary
The basic belief of alchemy involves the idea that certain baser metals
lay in the ground for many years and ultimately become purer higher metals.
The alchemist maintained that he could accelerate this process, and in a
few moments time turn a base metal into a precious metal. This tale is not
very popular with modern audiences because the entire concept of alchemy
ceased to exist within a short period of time. But the alchemist made him
self seem important by creating and using a very special set of terms. Then
for the modern reader who does not know these terms and is not interested
in learning them, the appeal of the story is limited.

THE IANCIPL E ' S TAL E : PHOLOGUE

S u m mary
As the party moved on towards Canterbury, the H ost noticed the Cool-.
swaying in his saddle. The Cook was drunk and despite the Host' s e fforts
to rouse him, he fell from his horse. The party of pilgrims halted and wit h
great effort, the Cook was restored to his saddle. Then the Host tu rned to
the Manciple and demanded a tory.
68

T H E IA:\'CI PLE'S TALE

S u m ma ry
I n a fara way land t here l i ved a man named Phoebus. H e was a great
warrior, a s k i l led musician, very handsome, and kind. Phoebus had a wife
whom he loved more than life i t se l f. H e bestowed u pon her all the k indness
and love at his command . But there was another side to Phoebus' c haracter.
H e was e x tremely jealous.

Phoebu s also kept i n his house a marvelous, white-feathered crow

which could repeat the words of anything he heard. Now it happened that
Phoebus was cal led out of town. While he was gone, his w i fe's secret lover
came to the home and made passionate love to her.

When Phoebus returned, the crow told him the scandalous sight he
had seen. In a rage, Phoebus k i lled h i s wife. As h i s rage cooled, the sight
of his wife's dead body brought on great re morse. In anger he t urned to the
crow and pu l led all of its white feat hers out and replaced them with black
ones. A nd before throwing him out, he removed the c row's ability to sing
and speak . The M anciple ends his talc by ad monishing all people to restrain
their tongues.

Commenta ry
The tale of the M anciple was short and simple. I t s moral is clear: re
peating scandal is a dangerous business. C haucer also add s his own reflec
tions on the fut i l i t y of try i ng to restra i n a wife. The author has simpl y retold
here the long familiar tale of Apollo a nd Coron is in Ovid's M era 111orphosn.

TH E PARSO'S TALE: PROLOGU E

S u m mary
I t was dusk and t he pilgrims neared a small village. The H ost turned to
the last of the grou p, the Parson, and bid him tell his story and to be quick
about it since it would soon be dark. The Parson said he was no rhymester.
nor wou ld he have a story that would amuse and enterta i n . Kather. he said,
he had a sermon designed for t hose who wished to make the final mortal
pilgri mage to the H eavenly J erusalem .

THE PA HSO:\''S TALE

S u m mary
God desires no man to perish. the Parson said . a nd there are many
spiritual ways to the celestial c i t y . One noble way is Pc11ir111cc, the lament
ing for sin. and the will to sin no more . The root of the tree of Pt'11it111c, is
co11tririo11: the hranche, and the leaves are co11ji.1 .1 w11: the fru it . is .1t1ti.1ji1c
tio11: the seed. i , i:ra c c : and the heat in t hat seed is the /.m 1 o / G od.
 69

Conrririon, the Parson continued, is the heart's sorrow for sin. There
are seven deadly sins, the first of which is pride. Pride takes many forms:
arrogance, impudence, boasting, hypocrisy, and joy at having done some
one harm. The remedy for pride is humiliry.

Em-::, is sorrow at the prosperity of others and joy in their hurt. The
remedy for en 1y is to love God, your neighbor, your enemy.

A n ger is t h e wicked will to vengeance. T h e remedy for anger

is parience.

Slorh does all tasks with vexation, slackly, and without joy. The
remedy is forrirude.

A 1arice is the lecherous desire for earthy things. The remedy is mercy.

Glurtony is an immeasureable appetite for food and drink. The remedy

is absrinence, remperance, and sobriery.

Lechery is theft. The remedy is chastiry and continence.

Confession must be freely willed and made in good faith. It must be

considered, and frequent.

Satisfaction consists in alms-giving, penance. fastings, and bodily

pains. Its fruit is endless bliss in Heaven.

C om m en tary
It is rather obvious from the tales told by the pilgrims, and particularly
by the eleven connected with the ecclesiastical organization. that t he church
of Chaucers time had fallen upon evil days. It is fitting. therefore, that the
tales should end on the high moral tone of the Parson s sermon. The original
sermon, however, is a dreary and tiresome tract on the seven deadly sins
that would have driven the ordinary parishioner from a church.

Scholars originally believed that The Parson"s Taff was written by

Chaucer. However. later research revealed that it was written from the
work of two thirteenth-century Dominican friars. Indeed. so inartistic is
Chaucer s writing here that some scholars believe that it was not Chaucers
work at all.

CH:\CCEH' S HETHACTI O S
The .\faker of t h is Book here takes h is Leme
Chaucer concluded his Canralmry Tales with a series of retrac
tion s. And if t h ere be any t h ing that d i spleaes t h em. I beg t hem
70

also to impute i t to the fau l t of m y want of abi l i t y , and not to m y will, who
would very gladly have said bet ler if I had had the power. For our Rooks
say 'all that is written i s wri t t e n for our doc t rine' ; and t ha t is my intent ion.
Wherefore I be seech you mee k l y for the mercy of God to pray for me, t hat
C hriq have merc y on me and forgive me for m y sins: and e spec ially for my
translations and indic t i ngs of worldly vanities. which I revoke i n m y retrac
t ions: as arc t he hook of Troi/11.1 ; also the book of Fam<': the book of The
Ni11c1ec11 Laclic.1 : t he book of Thl' D11chl'.1.1; the book of SI. V11/e111inl' s
0

Oay of 1hc l'cirli111111111 rf Fo111s: Thl' Tales of Ca11/C'rh11ry . . . . and many

another hoo k , i f t hey were i n my me mory : and many a song and many a
lec herous lay: t hat C h rist in h i s great mercy forgive me t h e sin.

Co111111e11tary
It i s not clear why C haucer wrote his ret ract ions. M any wish t hat he
had not . Perhaps t he reason i s t hat much of the Ca111erb11ry Tales was
written al t he ze n i t h of his power and, in his lat ler days of sad ness, he
was seized by a poet's conscience. Sc holars have puzzled over the retrac
t ions and conc lude t hat perhaps we should not pry fu rther into C haucer's
intent ions here.

T H E PHL\'CIPAL CHAHACTE HS
The pri nc ipal characters of The Cc1111ab11ry Tales are . of course. the
twenty-nine me mbers of t he party of pi lgri ms who journeyed from London
to the shrine of St. Thomas ,i Becket in Cante rbury. While some of t he tales
told d u ring t he fou r-day journey certain l y offer gli mpses of C haucer's l i fe
and t imes, t h e story tellers give an ad m i rable view of fourteent h-century
England as seen t hrough t he eyes of C haucer.

A somewhat detailed description of each of the pilgrims is given i n t he

Prologue ( see its synopsis). but a complete l i s t i ng will be repeated here.

Clia11cer
The author (and our observer d u ri ng t he pi lgrimage). who finally
ident ities h i m self.

Tlie K 11 igli t
A d i s t i ngui shed soldier. gentleman. and ideal i s t .

Tli e S q u ire
The K night's son . abl> a sold ier of great valor. and a handsome you ng
man filled w i t h fire and e n t h u siasm.
 71

The l'eoman
The servant of the Knight and the Squire, and also an expert bowsman.

The 1\'un
A graceful and mannerly Prioress who was "all sentiment and tender
heart."

The Second Sun

Chaplain to the Prioress.

1'he .\fonk
An affluent priest who combined godliness and worldliness into a profit
able and comfortable living.

The Friar
He was a Limiter which restricted his alms-begging to a certain district.

The .\ferchant
His forking beard and handsome dress, and his austere speech led all
to believe him successful - which he was not.

The Oxford Cleric

Making a decent living was much less important to him than his
study of books.

The Sergea n t at the Lau

An able lawyer who commanded good fees.

The Franklin
A land-owning Free Man, an epicure with adequate means to enjoy it.

The Haberdasher, Dyer, Carpen ter, \Veai-er, and Carpet-maker

All guildsmen, impressively dressed, and obviously proud of their
callings.

1'h e Cook
He was the servant to the guildsmen and capable of making the
finest dishes.

The Skipper
A good seaman. but a ruthless one.

1'/ie Doctor
Ably at tended upon the sick. bu t not reluctant about charging a
good fee.
n
The Woman of Bath
An excellent weaver. and a skilled wife who outlived her five husbands.

The Parson
A poor but honest cleric.

The Plouman
Honest workmen, faithful Christians . and unseemly charitable.

The Miller
A "great stout fellow" famous for his store of off-color stories but not
noted for his honesty.

The Manciple
A steward for a college, noted as a shrewd buyer and running a debt
free school.

The Rene
The successful manager of an estate, admired by his employers but
feared by his employees.

The S u mmoner
H is job - to summon sinners before the church court - condoned sin
for a handsome bribe. -.

Th e Pardoner
His position (lo offer indulgences or pardons of the Pope to sinners)
were most often sold at handsome prices.

CRITICAL ANALYSIS
Geoffrey Chaucer is generally considered the Father o f English poetry,
and thus, one of the truly great men in our literature.

John Dyrden called him "the father of English poetry" and regarded
him thusly:

[with the] same degree of veneration as the Grecians held Homer

or the Romans held Virgil. He is a perpetual fountain of good
sense. learned in all the sciences. and therefore speaks properly
on all subjects: as he knew what to say . so he knows also to leave
off, a habit which is practiced by few writers....

Coleridge looked at the poet this way:

 73

I take unceasing delight in Chaucer. His cheerfulness is especially

delicious to me in my old age. How exquisitely tender he is, and
yet how perfectly free from the least touch of sickly melancholy or
morbid drooping. The sympathy of the poet with the subjects of
his poetry is particularly remarkable in Shakespeare and Chaucer;
but what Shakespeare effects by a strong act of imagination and
mental changing, Chaucer does without any effort, merely by the
inborn kindly joyou sness of his nature. How well we seem to
know Chaucer ! How absolutely nothing do we know of
Shakespeare!

Yet i t i s a fact that somehow we have not realized the greatness of

Chaucer, nor his genius. Perhaps a reason for this neglect lies in the diffi
culty and antiquity of his language. Yet an increasing number of modernized
versions of his Canterh11ry Tales appear, and many of them preserve the
essence of Chaucer's great art. There are, of course, many purists who
believe there is no substitute for the original.

The student will note that in the com mentary following each of the
tales the origins of Chaucer's writings are attributed to other authors. It is
indeed a fact that Chaucer owed a great debt to authors who went before
him. Since virtually all of the tales are borrowed, what, one might ask, is
properly Chaucer's own genius? The answer might be that nothing is left to
Chaucer. Or the question might be answered that all is left to Chaucer!

Authors are seldom original. It is not the function of writers such as

Chaucer to turn up something new under the sun. Rather, it is Chaucer's
task to reassemble his material, give it fresh meaning. reveal new truths,
commend new insights to his reader. In this sense, then, Chaucer was a
remarka'.,Jy original man.

Sin-:e Chaucer did give new meanings to twice-told tales, what was his
purpose? W,1 s he a great moral crusader? Do the Canterh11ry Tales offer
new philosophic vistas?

Chaucer was a learned man. It is known that he read widely in French.

Latin, and Italian. Yet it is rather remarkable that he did not write in the
highly moralistic sense of the literary models he studied. He did not write
in an abstract manner. He did not urge upon his readers new moralistic
directions. The Ca11:,,rln11-Joc.s-riZ1T-wI1fi -ih'e re,ider tt) an exotic
Oriental kingdom. He ch(;se, instead. to set his story in the com monest
sight of his time - a pilgrim mage to Canterbury. I f Chaucer wished to create
an illusion it was not of an imaginary world hut of a real one. The tales of
some of the pilgrims themselves a rc arti ficial forms hut his real-life setting
simply heightens the tales of some of the pilgrims.
74

When one cons iders the great scope of t he Taln , perhaps t he most
consistent a spect of C haucers wri t i ng i s its t remendous variety. Consider
o mcnt t br ,, Wi/l uf /Jath '.1 Tale, or t he

ance of The K ni,:ht 's Talc, or t he idea l i s m of T ,c rwren Tait, or the

hawd i n e s s of the M i ller's Talc. But beyond t he variety o f C haucer's tales,
one is constantly remi nded of C hauccr's hu mor. At one moment i t is sly, at
another moment, pure slapstick. Bu t t hrough i t all. there i s fresh ness
and kindl iness.

C haucer . however, i s capable of pat hos and iro n y which sometimes

hlend as t raged y, sometimes as melodrama. A s ont: read s C haucer, t he
inescapable conc lu sion comes agai n and agai n that t he great poet was for
ever concerned with t he essential irony of human ex istence. with t he rather
lud ic rous moc kery arising fro m joy and ambition dashed u ne x pected l y by
fru s t ration and despair.

C haucer's style is c haracteri zed chiefly by simplic i t y . Except i n t hose

cases where t he author u ses archaic form to preserve the rhyme effect, his
words are commonplaces of ordi nary people in ord i nary c irc u m stance s.
H is sentences are s im ple i n form and structure and noticeably free of studied
balance. I ndeed his writ i ng i s s i ngularly free of the far- fetc hed p u n s and
metaphors which characterize Shake speare. To read C haucer, then, is
much like l istening to a c u l tured and accompl i s hed story teller. The tales
tell themselves without effort or delay.

The device of a springtime p ilgri mage, t he d i verse group of person s

making up t h e company, a n d t he ad ve n t u res o n e c a n reasonably expect on
such a journey, provided C haucer with a wide range of c haracters and
experiences. The setting does not perm it boredom. We are told in the
Prologue t ha t each member of t he company was to tell two stories. This
wou ld have amounted to s i x t y tales, plus the author's accou n t of the stay
in Can terbury . A l l of which brings us arou nd to another aspect of The
Ca11terh11ry Tales.

What we have today are, in reality, fragme n t s . Chaucer had intended

a much more ambitious u ndertaking which surely would have exceeded in
length Boccacc io's fa mous Dcca111cro11. C haucer's scheme never material
ized and what survives is one fourth of his origi nal proposal. There i s not
even one tale from each pilgri m, nor are there connec t ing l i n k s ( between
many of the tales) which wou ld have given greater unity to Chaucer's work.
C haucer d id not leave for posterit y the order i n which t he tales were to he
told beyond The Prolo,:uc and The Kni,:ht ' s Talc, at t he begi n n i ng. and The
Par.w n.1 Talc at t he close.

Of all of t he tales in this work, surely the greatest of them is The l'ro
loKue . H e re C haucer gives an accou n t i ng of h u ma n life as he viewed it in
medieval England . Every phase of l i fe i n E ngland i s represented. except
 75

royalty. This, it may be added, i s the truly original work o f Chaucer, for
nothing like it prior to Chaucer's time has ever been discovered.

The gay, bouyant, good-natured Prologue, however, contrasts sharply

with the ending of the tales. In The Prologue and throughout the telling of
the tales, the members of the company are repeatedly urged by the Host to
tell humorous and interesting tales. But The Parson's Tale, and more strik
ingly, Chaucer's Retractions, offer the totally new note of disavowing
pleasure, story-telling, and sensuousness. " Let us repent," Chaucer cries,
"and beg the mercy of God."

Chaucer must have been a good churchman or he would have lost his
favors from the Court. His writings, it must be remembered, were aimed at
satirizing or exposing only individuals. Matters of doctrine were never
attacked by Chaucer. And so Chaucer, who had composed one of the great
classics of English literature in a largely playful mood, embracing and
enjoying all the foibles of human nature, closes his great work with a grim
supplication for heavenly forbearance.

QUESTIONS FOR EXAMINATIO

AND REVIE\V
Nate: The section or sections indicated in parenthesis following each ques
tion contain information which will help you answer the question.

I . How did Geoffrey Chaucer differ from other writers of his time in
the English Middle Ages? (See Sketch of Chaucer's Life and Times.)

2. What in your opinion was the underlying motive for the tale told by
the Wife of Bath? (See Synopsis.)

3. I f you were asked to single out the most persistent aspec t of

Chaucer's style in the Canterhury Tales, what in your opinion
would it be? Why? (See Critical Analysis.) What is the major
strength of his style?

4. Some critics have held that Chaucer had embraced the early spirit
of Wycliffe's Reformation and therefore was against the established
Roman Church. Do you agree? ( See Critical Analysis, and Synopsis
of the Author's Retractions. )

5. Many believe that the most important single part of The C anterhury
Tales is The ProloR11c. What is the basis for this judgment? ( See
Critical Analysis.)
76

6 . W h e n i s 11 as,u med that C haucer hegan 1.1.-r1 t i ng h i s Cantahury

1 11/,. \ and 1.1. hen d i d he ,tor work on t h e m ? ( Sec Sketch of the
:\ u t hor's l . i fr and Times . )

7 . H o w many r,ilgrim, started t h e journey t o Cantcrhury ? H o w was

it determ ined who ,hould tell stories while t he rart y was e n routc?
( See Synor,,i, of l'rolug11, . )

8 . Whal i, the i m r,mt ance o f Tlw Canr,rlmry T"lcs t o the soc ial his
torian '! ( See C r i t ical :\ nal y s i , . )

9 . Which character occu ries the central r,m it ion among the pilgri m ,
a s t h e y near t heir d e s t i nation? ( See Synopsi,, Th<' Parson's Tai,. )

1 0. Define and illu strate at least five l iterary for m s u ,cd by C haucer i n
the Tall'.\ . ( Sec :'\l iddlc Engl i s h Literary G en re s . )

1 1 . W h a t i s t h e fu nction o f t he final c hapter of t h e Hoo k ? ( Sec C ri t ical

A na l y s i s and Synopsi s . )

1 2 . How comr,lctc is C hauccr's descri ption of England in the Fou rteen t h

C e n t u ry ? ( Sec Sketch of A u t hor's L i fe a n d Times, and the C ri t ical
Analysi s . )

1 3 . W h o arc t h e chief c harac ters i n t h e Pilgri mage? I dent ify and briefly
c h a ra c t e r i z e eac h . ( S e c S y n o p s i s of t h e Pro logu e , and t h e
C harac ters . )

1 4. I f y o u were asked to select the b e s t t a l c t o l d d u ri ng the journey to

Canterbury which wou ld ii be? W h y ?

1 5 . W h a t reason i s ad vanced for the f a c t t h a t C haucer's Cantcrh11rv

1 (1/c.1 has not been as widely read as, for example, some of Shake
srearc's plays? ( See C rit ical A na l y s i s . )

1 6. W h a l rosition h a s C haucer been assigned in the h i story of Engl i sh

l i terature? ( Sec I nt roduct ion . )

1 7 . What role does realism rlay in C hauccr's writ ings? (Sec C ritical
A naly s i s . )

I X . C ritics c l,1im that prec ious lit tle o f C hauccr' s wri t i ngs were origi nal :
that i s . that he horrowcd from ot hers for h i s tales. Discu ss. ( Sec
C rit ical A na l y s i s . )

1 9 . Dcsc rihc hriclly l i fe in Fngland d u ring Chauccr's t i me. ( See Sketch

ol' A u t hor, l . i fc ,1nd T i m es . )
 77

20. Discuss Chaucer a s a humorist o r a satirist. I s he obvious o r subtle?

Is he kind or critical? Is he coarse? l s he merry? ( Develop your
own ideas here.)

2 1. Select your favorite person on the journey to Canterbury. Describe

him or her in detail. Select and describe your favorite character from
one of the tales. ( Develop your own ideas here.)

22. Which of the Tales interested you the most? Which Tale seemed the
most artistically conceived of the whole group? (Again develop
your own ideas.)

FOR FURTHER READING:

A S ELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY
Bowden, Muriel, A Commentary on the General ProloRue 10 The Canter
bury Tales, New York: Macmillan Co., 1 948.

Chute, Marchelle G., G eoffrey Chaucer of EnRlancl, New York: Dutton,

1 946.

Coghill, Nevill, The Canterbury Tales, Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1952.

Coghill, Nevill, The Poer Clw11cer, Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1949.

French, Robert D. , A Chaucer Hane/hook, New York: Appleton-Century-

Crofts, 1947.

Hitchins, H. L., The Canterbury Tales, London: John Murray, 1947.

Kennedy's Concordance ofClu111cer.

Kluge, Freidrich, The LanRllaRC and ,Heier of Chaun'r, New York:

Macmillan Co., 19 15.

Kittredge, G. L., Chaucer and H is Poetry, Cambridge: Harvard University

Press, 190 I .

Lloyd, J. L., A Chaucer Scleuion, London: George C. Harrop, 195 2.

Lowes, John Livingston, G eo.ffiey Clwucer and rhe /)e1l'!op111e111 of' II i.,
Genius, Boston: Houghton- Mifflin Co., 1934.

Lumiensk y , M. R., The C11 11 1 e rh11 ry ra lc .1 , London: J o hn l\ l urray

Ltd, 1948.
78
Malone. Ke mp, Cl1t1pter.1 011 Chaucer, Baltimore: J o h n s Hopkins Uni
versity Press, 1 95 1 .

M anly, J . M . . Ca11terh11ry Tafr.1 , New York: Holt, 1 930.

Moody, William Vaughn, and Lovell, Robert Morss, A Hi.l"tory of En/ish

Literature, N ew, York: Charles Scribner's Sons. 1946.

Morrison, Theodore, Tht Portahle Chaucer, N ew York: The V iking

Press, 1 949.

Owens, Charles A. Jr. , Discus.l"ions of the Canterhury Tales, Boston:

D. C. Heath, 1 96 1 .

Spurgeon, C . F. E., Fil'e Hundred Years of Chaucer Criticism and A llusion,

1 35 7- / 900. Chaucer Society, 7 parts, 1 9 1 4-1924 : also 3 volumes,
Cambridge, 1 925: Supplement, London, 1920.

Vickers, K. H., En,:la11d i11 the Later Middle A ges, N e w York: Putnam,
1 9 1 9.
NOTES
N OTES
N E W ! C O M PLETE STUDY E D I T I O N S

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Shakespeare's Plays:
Hamlet Merchant of Venice
J ulius Caesar Othello
King Henry IV, Pt. 1 Romeo and Ju liet
King Lear The Tempest
Macbeth Twelfth Night

Chaucer's Canterbury Tales:

The General Prologue The Wife of Bath

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