Chaucer's Prolgue Satire

SATIRE AS AN ASPECT OF CHAUCER'S SOCIAL CRITICISM
by
Cleatus Wilson Hinds
A. B., Phillips University, 1936
A THESIS
submitted in partial fulfillment of the
requirements for the degree
MASTER OF SCIENCE
Department of English
KANSAS STATE COLLEGE

OF AGRICULTUKE AND APPLIED SCIENCE
19M
rq_ u
Dae"****' 1 -
TABLE OP CONTENTS
Page
INTRODUCTION 1
SATIRE 3
CHAUCER'S POSE OF SELF -DEPRECATION 14
The Book of the Duchess 15
The House of Fame 18
The Parliament of Fowls 21
The Legend of good Women 23
The Canterbury 'âles 25
The Complaint of Chaucer to His Purse
THE TEMPER OF THE TIMES 30
CHIVALRY AND THE UPPER CLASSES 37
The Knight and the Squire 39
The Franklin 48
The Prioress 53
COURTLY LOVE 64
THE CLERGY 78
CONCLUSION 97
ACKNOWLEDGMENT 99
LITERATURE CITED 100
OTHER REFERENCES 102

INTRODUCTION
Moat students of English literature are familiar with the
great epithet which has been placed upon Chaucer — father of
English poetry. This has been meant as the greatest of compli-
ments, but we find ourselves agreeing with Lowes 1 in that it Is
actually unfortunate. In a way it serves to dismiss him in a
kindly fashion as the worthy but "archaic ancestor of a brilliant
line." Paradoxically, he is actually the very thing that he gave
birth to; "he is English poetry incarnate" and only very few of
his "sons" were able to equal or outshine him.
As Chaucer himself was Interested in people of all levels,
so people of all levels can find in Chaucer something that will
interest them. Even in the unsettled seventeenth century, Lady
Anne Clifford, 2 "cultivated but not educated," in her later and
saddened years wrote that she had been comforted by reading
Chaucer: "I was in a pitiable case, having as many troubles as
I have, but when I read in that (Chaucer's works), I scorn and
make light of them all, and a little part of his beauteous spirit
infuses itself In me."
Chaucer's subject matter and techniques work together to
make his writing so readable. Chaucer astonishes us many times
with his modernity in both areas.
He is so great a poet, his human sympathy Is so

pervasive, his knowledge of mankind so profound, his
J. L. Lowes, Geoffrey Chaucer , p. 1.

2 J. S. P. Tatlock, The Kind and Art of Chaucer, p. 87.
personal attitude toward the reader so intimate, that
one easily gets to feel that the secrets of his art may
best be understood by entering into close communion
with him and throwing distracting commentaries aside. 1
Yet, we realize that such impressions are gained only through
a very skilled and consistent technique. Another realization
must come home to us: Chaucer was not writing for an apprecia-
tive audience of the twentieth century, nor a Lady Clifford of
the seventeenth, but for an audience of the later fourteenth
century, who surely too were aware of his subject and methods.
Perhaps the greatest phase of his technique which has kept
his works vivid through the years Is that of humor. It is a
sly, quiet, roguish humor; nothing that would make the reader
burst into loud laughter; neither is it grotesque or exaggerated.
Often it is so subtle that one needs to be on his guard lest he
miss it. ^ This humor is interwoven with satire which he directs
in variant degrees at the society and traditions of his day.
Most of all, for the purpose of this thesis, are we interested
In Chaucer's use of this great technique as he delineates the
traditions and customs of his contemporaries of the upper classes.
By examining his writings, it will be shown that Chaucer's satire
is not necessarily directed at individuals in the upper classes,
but at the traditions and Institutions of a society which they
represent. His mask is that of a "simple-minded" reporter, re-
porting the "news" of his day, but yet we sense that he 13 in-
volved in the moral problems that confront that society. It Is
h*. *. Lawrence, Chaucer and the Canterbury Tale3 , p. 5.

2£dwin Greenlaw, editor, Selections from Chaucer p. 43.
,
not necessarily the purpose at hand to present Chaucer as a
Renaissance man, but as one who was very much aware of the
decadence of many of the Ideas to which the upper classes had
long clung. He lived at a time when many changes were being
made. By projecting what he says against the actual historical
situation and Chaucer's part in that situation, we shall see the
subtle irony involved in his subject matter, having already as-
sumed a fourteenth century audience who too would be aware of
the irony.
SATIRE
Since satire has been generally assumed to be one of Chau-
cer's tools in writing, it seems fitting to begin with a defini-
tion of satire and a comparison of Chaucer's satire with that of
others who have been widely known for its use. Satire as a
method of literary composition and criticism has been in evidence
for many centuries. Its motives and equipment may be varied, but
its presence has nonetheless been felt in the culture of mankind.
Its tone may range from a mild humor to a mordant and bitter
sarcasm. Fowler 1 states that the motive of satire is that of
amendment; its province falls within that of morals and manners;
its method Is accentuation; and its audience Is the self -satis-
fled. This definition, however, applies to satire in its more
aggressive, action-seeking form. The purpose of some satirists
%. W. Fowler, A Dictionary of Modern English Us a, e , p. 241.

may only be that of holding a mirror up to the society of his
day that It may see Itself as It aotually Is and not as It con-
ceives Itself to be. Whatever the purpose may be, It Is essen-
tial that the satirist use every equipment available to draw the
reader Into his picture In order that he may see the scene as
he, the author, sees It. The main instruments* which the sati-
rist finds available among his possibilities of equipment are
irony, sarcasm, invective, wit, and humor.
John Bullitt 2 states:
In Its most serious function, satire is a mediator

—
between two perceptions the unlllusloned perception
of man as he actually is, and the ideal perception, or
vision, of man as he ought to be. It is often argued,
therefore, that satire can become a vital form of
literature only when there is a fairly widespread
agreement about what man ought to be. The satirist needs
the conviction that fixed Intellectual Ideals or norms
can give him, and the assurance that he will receive
understanding from his readers.
Edgar Johnson In A Treasury of Satire** claims that satire
is an unmasking critlclsm«a criticism which is trying to get
around or overcome an obstacle, and this obstacle Johnson calls
the Censor. To him it Is a case of overriding or outwitting
the Censor. To do this the satirist uses Ironical commendations,
sometimes circumlocution or insinuation; sometimes he must hide
his meaning in symbolic masks; sometimes he poses as a friend or
disguises himself as a mere prankster. Thackeray 4 In speaking
Ôllphant Smeaton, English Satires , "Introduction," p. xlli.

2 John M. Bullitt,Jonathan Swift and the Anatomy of Satire ,
Edgar Johnson, A Treasury of Satire , pp. 7-9.

^Smeaton, op_. clt . , p. xlli.
:
of the function of the humorist or satirist, since to him they
are ons , says
He professes to awaken and direct your love, your

pity, your kindness, your scorn for untruth, pretension,
Imposture, your tenderness for the weak, the poor, the
oppressed, the unhappy. To the best of his ability he
oomments on all the ordinary actions and passions of
life almost.
Whatever outlook may be taken in respect to the satirist, it is
known fact that he has a historical as well as literary and
ethical value among us. Any satirist who touches on the social
aspects of life presents a vivid picture, "though not of course
complete and impartial, of the age to which he belongs, of the
men, their manners, fashions, tastes and prevalent opinions."*
The credit for the origin of satire as a conscious literary
style goes to the Romans .2 Satura meant in its origin nothing
more than a "medley or miscellany, as various in subject matter
as In form or tone. No doubt It was always flavoured with 'sharp
Italian wit.'" As It developed In its usage by the homans it
became most useful In their style, "for It allowed free play to
the livelier side of the national genius, and yet, as a criticism
of real life, had a ballast of hard utility." The first of the
Roman satirists was Qulntus Ennius (239-169 B.C.);"* however, the

four princes of early Roman satire were Lucilius, Horace, Persius,
and Juvenal. For the purpose at hand Horace and Juvenal will b«
the only two discussed, for these two typify the two classes into
Smeaton, 0£. cit., p. xill.

2 Cyril Bailey, editor, The Mind of Rome p. 281.
,
3 Loc. cit.
which Dryden divided satirists — the followers of Horace and the
followers of Juvenal.
Juvenal used satire with consummate power and spirit as a
great force to attack the brutalities of tyranny, crime, folly,
and frenzy of a degenerate society. 1 He was aa a prophet who

assailed vice and orlme with furious indignation and invective
scorn. Edgar Johnson states: 2
Juvenal looks upon this world as extravagant

indulgence and corruption with the censorious eye
of a Cato and portrays it with the violence and
bitterness of an Isaiah. . . . Technically, Juvenal's
procedure is about as complicated as knocking the
reader down and burying hi.n beneath a drayload of
muck.
His Instruments of satire were those of contemptuous ridicule,
a sardonic irony that held nothing in reverence, a caustio
sarcasm that burned like acid, and abusive invective that ran-
sacked the language for phrases of scorn. 3 His picture of evil

was one that was designedly painted with exaggerated colors, so
that disgust might be more readily aroused by the loathes omeness
of the picture.
Horace stands in contrast to Juvenal. Horace's method is

one of more subtle, indirect attack. His tone Is graceful and
mocking, never one of Juvenallan rage. He gives a "sly prick
Instead of stabbing to the heart; he is more amused than sadden-
ed." Horace's satire confor.:is to Addison's great rule which he
"Satire," Americana, Vol. 24, p. 311.

^Johnson, op_. clt., p. 77.
JSmeaton, op_. cTT. , p. xviii.
4 Jchnson, o£. cTE
. , p. 60.
lays down in the Spectator , that "the satire which only seeks
to wound Is as dangerous as arrows that fly In the dark." 1
There Is always an ethical undercurrent running beneath his
polished raillery and good-natured satire. Often as not he

speeds his light darts at his own weaknesses. He Is a man of
the world, assailing the enemies of common sense with weapons
of humor and sarcasm. He does not deal with great and weighty
themes, but instead turns to the everyday life around him.
Rome has foolishness enough to wink at--singers

who won't sing when asked and who won't stop when
started, bores who cling and can't be shaken loose,
snobbery and glittering ostentation, avarice gloating
on its moneybags and dead to all the other delights of
life."
Though his morality does not rise above the level of sensible
moderation, he enforces It with such dramatic liveliness and
gay humor that his satire is a "thing of beauty" and, as yet
can be seen, will remain a "joy forever."
A Greek satirist who has much in common with Horace, as
far as style la concerned, is Lucian. He has the liveliness

and lightness of Horace, but a "stronger grasp In the
wider
philosophical universe." He is never self-righteous like Ju-
venalj his satire is a "quiet ripple of enjoyment, never a
molten torrent of fury." In the Dialogues of the Gods he "far-
cically delineates the inhabitants of Olympus." 3 He reveals
their all too-human frailties. He shows that the gods are too
Jsmeaton, p_£. ci_t., p. xvli.

^Johnson, op_. cJLt. p. 60.
3 Ibid .,
pp. 88-90.
nonexistent to be hated J their invention is another of the
follies of men. Now he persuades men to laugh at their own
fantastic notions about the gods. He never attacks directly;
he does not preach or become wrought up.
He simply coaxes his victims Into the position

in which their weaknesses are most ludicrously clear,
and then mischievously shows them to the world. . . .
He strips men's follies down to their naked truth and
persuades us to laugh at the embarrassing denudation.
For eighteen centuries he has been one of the world's
voices of Joy and sanity.*
Perheps to the latter two Chaucer, with whom this study is
concerned, can be compared most usefully. His satire is kindly
and congenial like that of Horace, rather than biting and mordant
like that of Juvenal. "He raps his age across the knuckles, it
Is true, for its faults and foibles, 'out the censor's face wears
a genial smile." 2 He seems to look at most matters objectively;
he does not wear his heart "pinned to his sleeve" as his contem-
porary Langland does. Chaucer's satire is genial, laughing, and
good-natured in most cases, tolerant of human weaknesses, perhaps
because he Is so keenly aware of his own. He uses many techniques
to paint his picture of satire and humor. Only a few of these
will be mentioned at this time as the greater portion of this
paper is concerned with illustrations and purposes of his particu-
lar technique. First of all, there is his pose of self -depreca-
tion, the "my wit is short" 3 pose. This prevails throughout his
Loc • clt.
^Smeaton, op_. clt . , p. xxii.
3 Prologue to Canterbury Tales , line 746. (All line refer-
ences to poems by Chaucer will be according to F. M. Robinson's
edition, The Poetical Works of Chaucer.)
writings, from the Book of the Duchess to the Complaint of
Chaucer to His Purse. Hia naivete is very sly; it serves to
arouse the unwary reader to a more lively attention. His humor
ranges from the low-brow type of the fabliau of the Miller's
Tale to the courtly wit of Pandarus. Perhaps his greatest
technique of satirical humor is that of characterization. No
class escapes his genial probe of satire — nobility, clergy,
middle class, the poor. In the Canterbury Tales Chaucer's
satire glimmers constantly both through the description of the
pilgrims and the tales they tell; his mastery is supreme and his
humor displays all its freedom and range.
Chaucer, from the mental watchtower whence he

surveys the world of his time, has taken in all the
varieties and the absurdities; he has noted the discrep-
ancies of characters, the perverse individualities of
creatures, the shifting of principle and conduct, the
clash of reality and appearance. 1
We read Chaucer because he enlivens those matchless pictures of
his age. Even though it has been suggested 2 that since Chaucer
wrote for the court circles he dared not write bitterly, it seems
more likely that his method of subtle satire was much more useful
In what he wished to accomplish. Chaucer is not crusading for
any great changes--those changes are there and he sees more to
come. Chaucer is very much aware of this and he thinks his
audience should be also.
Skeat,^ In comparing the satire of Chaucer with that of his
^Louis Cazamian, The Development of English Humor , p. 64.

^Smeaton, o£. clt ., p. xxlil.
3y». W. Skeat, editor, Piers the Plowman, p. xxviii.
10
contemporary Langland, states!
Chauoer describes the rich more fully than the poor,

and shows us the holiday-making, cheerful, genial phase
of English life; but William pictures the homely poor In
their Ill-fed, hard-working condition, battling against
hunger, famine, Injustice, oppression, and all the stern
realities and hardships that tried them as gold is tried
in f Ire . Chaucer's satire often raises a good-humoured
laugh; but William's is that of a man who is constrained
to speak out all the bitter truth, and It Is as earnest
as Is the cry of an Injured man who appeals to Heaven for
vengeance. Each, In his own way, is equally admirable,
and worthy to be honoured by all who prize highly the
English character and our land.
Langland Is a medieval Juvenal. 1 He Is a rather sad-counte-
nanced dreamer of the Malvern hills, sorrowing over the vices,
abuses, and social misery of his day. He finds no comfort in
the established institutions of his day because he finds them
filled with fraud and falsehood. He Is a pathetic figure stand-
ing out against pestilences, hasty and Ill-advised marriages,
lazy workmen, sham beggars, corruption, and bribery in the law-
courts. He Is not quite so fiery as Juvenal, and, unlike Juvenal,
he does place In his somber picture a ray of hope in the person
of the reformer, Piers the Plowman, who typifies the Christ. Thus
he satirizes evil by exposing it and contrasting It with good.
Jonathan Swift, one of the greatest of the satirists, comes
to mind in this consideration of Chaucer. There are times when
he uses both trends of satire which have been thus far analyzed.
Swift states in an article 2 written soon after the publication

of Gulliver's Travels that good humor is the best ingredient
^•Smeaton, 0£. clt., pp. xxl-xxll,

2 Bullltt, 0£. clt ., p. 7.
11
toward that kind of satire, which la the moat useful and gives
the least offense, and Is the character which gives Horace the
preference to Juvenal. Swift's reaction to life varies from

time to time, depending on his feeling about the matter at hand.
Sometimes he sees life a8 a comedy, sometimes as a lamentable
tragedy, and often as a source of angry frustration; and some-
times he acted in all ways at once. Swift utilises nearly all

the recognised methods of satiric composition throughout the
range of his long list of works, 1 In A Tale of a Tub he uses
the satiric tale to lash Dissenters, the Papists, and even the
Church of England, In The Battle of the Books the parody or
travesty of the Romances of Chivalry is used to ridicule the
controversy raging among Temple, Wotton, Boyle, and Bentley,
regarding the comparative merits of ancient and modern writers.
In Gulliver's Trave Is the fictitious narrative or mock Journal
la used, consisting of adopting an absurd supposition at the out-

set and then gravely deducing the logical effects which follow.
Even though Swift may have felt that the way of Horace
would be preferred, as he grew older he followed more the method
of Juvenal as he "concentrated increasingly upon the agony of
life" in his humor. 2 He once said after the death of a friend
that he hated life when he saw how many wretches burdened the
earth with life when such as his friend had to die. He concluded
that God probably never intended life for a blessing. 3 Even in
^Smeaton, op_. clt., p. xll.

2 Bullltt, op_. clt ., p. 8.
3 Ibld., p. 9
:
12
the year before the publication of Gulliver's Travels he wrote
to his dear friend Pope as follows
All my love la toward individuals. ...

I heartily
love John, Peter, Thomas, and so forth . . . (but) I hate
and detest that animal called man. . . . Upon this great
foundation of misanthropy. . . the whole building of my
Travels is erected.^
We find in Swift an urgent need to speak out, an Impelling drive

to express his own dissatisfaction. He expressed this quite
fully In another portion of his letter to Pope: "I never will
have peace of mind till all honest men are of my opinion. "2
Of the present time, there is one satirist who is comparable

to Chaucer in many aspects and that is James Thurber. In many
respects he Is a twentieth century Chaucer in his psychological,
humorous probing into the nature and attitudes of his fellow
man. Ambivalent, however, ha3 been the word applied at times
to Thurber 's own attitude. 3 Although he believes he is optimis-

tic about the human species, he tends to nurse doubt when he
rolls the subject around in his mind:
The human species is both horrible and wonderful.

Occasionally I get very mad at human beings, but there's
nothing you can do about it. I Hire people and hate them
at the same time. I wouldn't draw them in cartoons, if
I didn't think they were horrible; and I wouldn't write
about them, if I didn't think they were wonderful. 4
r Johnson 5 has called Thurber the "sanest zany In contemporary
!paul Robert Lleder, Robert Lovett, Robert Root, editors,

British Poetry and Prose , p. 725.
JBullitt, op. clt . , p. 4.
^"Priceless 01fT""of Laughter." Time , 58:88-95, July 9, 1951.
Loc . clt.
5 Johnson, 0£. clt ., pp. 733-754.
13
satire." Thurber can be aroused to a burning heat, however.
Johnson continues that no comic aatlrlst writing today has a
more lethal touch. By the time his heat has arisen from plain-
tlveness to Indignation he can be fatal. There Is not much left
to pick up after The Male Animal has done Its work on "the brain-
less cult of decadent athleticism In American colleges and on
the bullying of Intellectual workers by business interests."
Let Your Mind Alone Is directed against all the "psychological
analyze -your self literature, from the writers of Inspirational
slop fee the high-toned psychoanalytical racketeers and their
exploitation of pseudo-scientific Jargon." Johnson concludes
that the very essence of Thurber's satire Is his "unpretentious
sanity confronting a crazy world," The president of Williams
College, bestowing upon Thurber the degree of Doctor of Humane
Letters, praised him for having brought to troubled America the
priceless gift of laughter. 1 Eliot 2 commented In 1950 upon
Thurcar'a humor as follows:
It Is a form of humor which is also a way of saying

something serious. There is criticism of life at the
bottom of It. It is serious and even somber. Unlike so
much humor, It Is not merely a criticism of manners--that
Is, of the superficial aspects of society at a given
moment--but something more profound. His writings and
also his illustrations are capable of surviving the Im-
mediate environment and time out of which they spring.
To some extent, they will be a document of the age they
belong to.
With a brief survey of the above satirists we have been
able to delineate Chaucer's methods and uses of satire more fully.
^Loc . clt .
2 Loc. clt.
14
We have found that he follows more the tradition of Horace than
that of Juvenal. «Ve have seen him as having a genial and courtly-
air, but at the same, time as having a clear-sighted view of the
people, as well as the traditions, of his day. He has a way of
opening a "window upon life" and letting the reader see the
persons and events of his own vision.
And this is the reason his satire la so convincing.

He does not argue and there Is no temptation to refute
him. He does not declaim, and there is no opportunity
for reply. He merely lets us see his fools and rascals
In their native foolishness and rascality, and we neces-
sarily think of them as he would have us think.
This of course is the triumph of the creative
imagination and constructive art. And it is in these
qualities that Chaucer is supreme. All other satirists
of the fourteenth century give us the materials from
which Imagination may, if it can, reconstruct the life
of the time. Chaucer displays that life with all the
solidity and colors of reality and the men and women of
his world are as vivid and familiar as those whom we
see daily with our own eyes.^
CHAUCLR'S POSE OP SELF-DEPRECATION
Chaucer's consciously developed pose of comic self-
deprecation can be traced from The Book of the Duchess , which

was written about 1369, to The Complaint of Chaucer to His
Purse, written in 1399. It serves a very definite purpose in
that it wins and enlivens the reader's attention and interest.
The pose of humility, the portraying of the author's own weak-
ness, helps the reader to see that here Is a man who does not
mind admitting his inability to grasp all that life holds and
does not dare set himself up as an authority on any subject.
ijohn Matthews Manly, Some Mew Light on Chaucer , pp. 294-295.

15
Before the reader realizes It, he Is very cleverly drawn Into an
admiration of the author's techniques as well as his subtle pur-
pose In using such a pose. Then what seems at first an artless-
ness has become an art within Itself.
The Book of the Duchess /<rW.~ ^"~ ..

£rfn^~*i - M -' ***
f
The Book of the Duchess Is not only the earliest, but
almost the only work of Chaucer that can be fixed with confi-
dence to any actual occurrence. According to tradition record-
ed by John Stow and still accepted by most critics, the poem was
written in commemoration of the death of Blanche, duchess of

1 Chaucer himself
Lancaster and first wife of John of Gaunt.
speaks of the poem as the Deeth of Blaunche the Duchesse In
The Legend of Qood Women . The duchess died In September, 1369,
and it is likely that the poem was composed within the next few
months •
In The book of the Duchess the oomic pose is one of the
elements which carries the story along and helps In its unfold-
ing. As the dream unfolds, the poet becomes aware of a "man In
blak" who does not Join In the hunting party, but scsrr.s la great
sorrow as he leans against a huge oak. The poet seemingly does
not understand the somber attire and mournful song of this man:
^. N. Hoblnson, editor, The Poetical Works of Chaucer ,

p. 514.
,
16
I have of sorwe so gret won

That Joye 6ete I never non,
Mow that I see ny lady bryght.
Which I have love with al ray myght,
Is fro me ded and ys agoon.*-
The poet apologizes for disturbing him and asks him to tell
him of his "aorwes smerte." Then begins the process of the "man
In blak," who evidently Is John of Gaunt, telling of his great
love for his "lady bryght," who Is Blanche. He uses the extend-
ed metaphor of the chess game to reveal how Fortune has treated
him so badly. He concludes this portion of his story by saying:
"Thou wost ful lytel what thow raenest;

I have lost more than thow wenest."^
Again the poet does not catch the point and says:
"Loo, (sey) how that may be?

Good sir, telle me al hooly
In what wyse, how, why, and wherfore
That ye have thus youre blysse lore. "3
The "man In blak" bids him to sit down, then he says:
"I telle the upon a condlcloun

That thou shalt hooly, with all thy wyt,
Doo thyu entent to herkene hit."*
After another portion of the story is revealed, the "stupid"
poet aâln speaks:
"Iffhat los ys that?" (quod I thoo)

"Nyl she not love you? ys hyt soo?
Or have ye oght doon amys
That she hath left you? ys hyt this?
For Goddes love, telle me all." 5
^Geoffrey Chaucer, The Book of the Duche ss, lines 475-81.

g ib Id ., lines 743, Vtt.
^
TSTd~ . , lines 745-748.
4 Ib Id . , lines 750-752.
u TUTcT , lines 113S-1143.
.
17
After more eulogy of Blanche, the poet Interrupts:

"Sir," (quod I), "where Is she now?" 1
The mourner replies:
"That was the los that here-before

I told the that I hadde lorn
Bethenke how I seyde here-bef orn,
Thou wost ful lytel what thou menest;
I have lost more than thow wenast."2
Still the poet does not get the point:
"Alias, sir, how? what may that be?" 3
The "man la "olak" tells him forcefully:
"She ys dedl"4
At last the poet understands, and the poem Is concluded
with several puns, another tool of Chaucer's humor:
A long caste 1 with walles white,

Be seynt JohanI on a ryche hil
As me mette; but thus hyt fil. 5
The "ryche hil" was probably Richmond in Yorkshire, which be-
came a possession of John of Gaunt when he was only two, at
which time he was made Earl of Richmond, and belonged to him
until his second marriage in 1372. The "long castel" is probably
a reference to Lancaster, and there may be further reference in
the "wallea white" and Tseynt Johan" to the names of Elanche and
John of Saunt.6
As we compare The Book of the Duchess to the other poems
ilbid. , line 1298.

f ib id ., lines 1302-1306.
USES' » llne 1308.
fH7I? ., line 1309.
" THIH" ., lines 1318-1320
°Robinson, 0£. clt ., p. 886.
X8
which follow, we will note that In comparison the pose In this
poem Is very awkward and at times vre think the poet appears to
be too stupid for the effect desired. In fact, the poem In
many other phases-- characterization, conversation, proportion,
meter, 6tyle--shows all indication that it stands at the begin-
ning of Chaucer's development.
The House of Fame
The next poem in which the reticent pose of the poet will
be considered is The House of Fame . There was probably a con-
siderable interval between the composition of The Book of the
Duchess and The House of Fame . The usual opinion has been to
place The iiouse of Fame among the minor poems, after Irollus
and not long before The Legend of Good Women ; however, there
are no decisive considerations in Its support. ^ The reference to
Chaucer's "rekenynges"2 would at least fix the limits between
1374 and 1335. Therefore, for our chronological study of the
development of this particular comic pose of Chaucer we shall
consider It next.
The pose and the structure of the poem as a whole shows
much Improvement over The Book of the Duchess . Again it is of

the love-vision convention and even though the theme is supposed
to be that the poet may receive "tydlngs of Love's folks,"*'
the Interest shlft3 from the affairs of love to the uncertainty
1 Ibld.,
p. 330.
2Geoffrey Chaucer, The House of Fame , line 653.
Ibid*, line 645.
,
19
and ohangeableness of the Goddess of Fame. However, the
comedy of the long-rinded eagle, the reticent mask of the poet,
and the mockery In the dispensing of fame, all add up to better
reading than that found In The Book of the Duchess .
Book I deals mainly with the story of Aeneas and Dido from
Virgil's Aeneld. Book II gives a very lively picture of the
eagle "that ahon with fethres as of gold." 1 The eagle Is
never presented as a fearsome creature, but as good-natured,
Jolly, and very talkative. As he Is conveying the poet to the
Souse of Fame, he says:

Seynte Maryel
Thou art noyous for to carye
And nothyng nedeth It, pardeel^
A little later he states the purpose of his conveying of
"Geffrey." 3 His tone and phrasing are humorously satirical:
That thou so longe trewely

Ha3t served so ententyfly
His blynde nevew Cupido,
And falre Venus also,
fflthoute geurdon ever yit,
And never-the-lesse hast set thy wit--
Although that In thy hed ful lyte Is
To make bookys, songes, dytees,
Jupiter considereth this.

And also, beau, sir, other thynges
Of Loves folk yf they be glade
No of noght elles that God made;
And noght oonly from fer contijee
That ther no tydynge cometh thee. 4
The ea^le accuses the poet of going home after all his
i lbld line 530.

.,
8 Ibld ., lines 573-575.
gbl? .. line 729.
-
laid ., lines 615-557.
: ,
20
"rekenyn<;es" t a it "domb as any stoon" at another book until
his appearance becomes "fully dawsed." 1 The poet's "recompen-
aaclon" then for such "devocion" Is to be a trip to the house
of Fane. During the remainder of the trip the eagle expostu-
lates at great length upon such subjects as everything haa its
own natural place to which It has a tendency to return. Sound,
whloh Is broken air, has Its own particular place of reception,

and this Is the place for which they are headed, the House of
Fame. Finally when the much-talked-about place Is close by,
the eagle says >
Now up the hed, for al ys « el: :
Seynt Julyan, loo bon hostel|2
In the Invocation to Book III Chaucer pleads with the
"God of science and of ly^ht" to help his "lytel" book, for
even though the "rym ys lyght and lewed," 3 he would like for
Apollo to make "hyt sumwhat agreeable." Another Item of humor-

ous satire In this portion of The House of Fame comes during
the time when Chaucer la describing the gold plating on the
House of Fame
As fyn as ducat in Venyse

Of which to lite in my pouche Is.
Another Incident of the same import comes when an attendant
asks Chaucer, alter the varied bestowals of fame upon people
have been noted, if he had come to this place for fame.
1 Ibld. , lines 653-660.

a ToId' . , lines 1023, 1024.
3 TJT3 ., lines 1091-1109.
4 Xbld ., lines 1348, 1349.
: ,
21
Chaucer says
"Nay, for sothe, fren, . . .

I can noght hyder, graunt mercy,
For no such cause, by my hedl
Sufficeth me as I were ded,
That no wifht have my name In honde
I wot myself best how y stonde;
For wha t I drye , or what I thynke
I wll myselven al hyt drynke,
Certeyn, for the more part
As fer forth as I kon myn art." 1
After a trip through the revolving House of Rumor, ad-
jacent to the House of Fame, we find the poem unfinished, our-
selves curious about what the "tydyngs of Loves folk" were to
be and who the "man of gret auctorlte" 2 might be, but with a
feeling that Chaucer has given his opinion in a very subtle
way of fickle Fame and that our reading has not been In vain.
The Parliament of Fowls
In the Parliament of Fowl3 Chaucer returned to

the love-vlslon. Features made familiar by the Book
of the Duchess and the House of Fame —
the preliminary
reading of a book, the ensuing sleep and dream, the
supernatural guide, the vision Itself, the allegorical
—
abstractions reappear In a somewhat different setting,
adapted to a new purpose .3
Kobert Root 4 states very plainly that Chaucer's power as
a humorist springs into sudden maturity In the Parliament of
Fowls . However, he concludes that It is not until Chaucer has
finished his introduction and has left his authors well behind
X Ibld.,
lines 1873-1382.
" Ibid ., line 2157.
3 hoblnsori, og. clt .,
p. 361.
4Kobert Root, The Poetry of Chaucer
, p. 18.
. ;
22
him that "the conventional gives place to the natural, and the
poet's genius plays freely. "* Nevlll Coghlll 2 comments partic-
ularly on the Improvement In Chaucer's skill In conversation.
"The eagle In The House of Fame talked better than the Man In
Black, and now In The Parliament of Fowls , the very duoks talk
better than the eagle."
Chaucer's own presence In the poem la felt only very brief-
ly at the beginning, but again It helps set the tone for the
entire poem.
The lyf so short, the craft so long to leru,

Th'a3say so hard, so sharp the oonquerynge,
The dredfal joye, alwey that silt so yerne:
Al this mene I by Love, that my felynge
Astonyeth, with his wonderful werkynge
So sore lwls, that whan I on hym thynke,
hat wot 1 wel wher that I flete or synke. 3
Then comes the pretense that all he knows about Love Is what
he reads in his books:
For al be that I knowe nat Love In dede,

Ne wot how that he quite th folk here hyre,
Ylt happeth me ful of te In bokes reede
Of his myrakles and his crewel yre
There rede 1 wel he wol be lord and syre
I dar nat seyn, his strokes been so so sore,
But "3od save swlch a lord"— 1 can na moore. 4
As has already been indicated, the mask only sets tne tone.
The real satire appears later in the conversation of the birds.
This part of the discussion will be reserved for u later portion
of this thesis.
j -Ibld ., p. 66.
2 ;ievlllCoghill, The Poet Chaucer, p. 62.
'Chaucer, The âi llaiaout ol it'owla , lines 1-7.
4 Ibld., lines 8-14.
23
The Legend of Qood Women
Another love-vision poem In which the vehicle of self-
deprecation must be considered Is The Legend of Qood Women .
According to the central theme In the Prologue to The Legend,
Chaucer Is being condemned for having implied in the conduct
of Crlseyde and his translation of the Roman de la Rose that
women are inconstant and their love untrustworthy. As a pen-
alty for his misbehavior he is commanded by the iûeen Alceste
to write a legendary of Cupid's saints— that Is, of women who
were good according to the standard of the religion of Love.
Nwvill Coghill 1 finds in the recantation a bit of irony:
A flatter soul than Chaucer's might submissively

have toed the party line and undertaken his recantation
seriously; but,
Forced to recant our cant, If we have wit,
Our recantation will have cant In it.
Chaucer, with all appearance oi innocence, decided to
toe it to an Inward and Ironical tune of his own.
high seriousness was laid aside; allegorical fancy-
dress was put on (for the last time) and he entered upon
the exquisite performance of a solemn bad! aerie . Just
as ballet written and danced in a spirit of graceful
comedy may have moments of serious tenderness and other
moments of burlesque, so The Legend of Good Women has
a variety of mood, sentiment, description, c omedy , and
light irony to give colour to his monotonous task.
If we agree with Coghill on this particular point it would be
on the mask of "Chaucer the Simpleton." 2 There have been those
who would find the satire in Chaucer's choice of women who are
to pose as the Saints of Cupid. 3 Among the selection of women
^Coghill, og. clt ., p. 38.

2 ibld., p. 1Q2.
3 Koblnson, og. clt . p. 567.
,
: ,
24
were those guilty of murder and other serious crimes • By his
choice the burlesque would become even more noticeable. However,
this assumption Is perhaps the viewpoint of a twentieth century
reader and not of a fourteenth century audience. To Chaucer's
contemporaries the catalog of women would serve adequately as
examples of feminine fidelity.
Then again we find Chaucer's stock pose of his dependence
upon books for his delight, yet with the added suggestion that
there mignt be something which could make him put the books
aside
And as for me, though I konne but lyte

On bokes for to rede I me delyte
And to hem yive I feyth and ful credence,
And in myn herte have hem in reverence.
So hertely, that ther Is game noon
That fro my bokes maketh me to goon,
but yt be seldom on the aolyday,
Save, certeynly, whan that the month of May
is comen, and that I here the foules syn e,
And that the floures gynnen for to sprynge,
Farewel my bok, and uy devocioun.l
Then he proceeds with praise for the daisy and displays again
his feeling of Inadequacy:
Alias, that I ne had taglyssh, rya», or prose,

Suffisant this flour to preyse ».ryght.2
Chaucer manages to celebrate only nine and a half ladies
out of the nineteen he had proposed as examples of female faith-
fulness. He started with Cleopatra and, going on to Thisbe,
Dido, Hypsipyle, Medea, Lucrece, Ariadne, Philomela, and Phlllls,
^The Legend of liood Women , Text F, lines 2o-3y.

2TbTs., lines 66, 67.
25
he seems finally to have given up In the middle of Hypermnestra.
Throughout the poem he shows signs of boredom with his task.
Cazamlan^ suggests that the demands of the theme of solemnity
has become so exacting that The Legend of Good Women Is left
unfinished, "because Its subject and a humorous disposition
agree too 111 together."
The Canterbury Tales
My wit is short, ye may well understonde. 2
We are not disappointed; again our naive, humble reporter
puts In his appearance in Chaucer's most noteworthy work. The
Canterbury Tales . The wide range of Chaucer's satire and humor
are fully displayed in this great work, but the pose of self-
deprecation is there again to Intrigue us. By this time in our
chronological examination of Chaucer's works we would have
missed the mask of reticence if it had not been present. Now
we are becoming aware of the fact that it serves the author's
purpose quite well. Cazamlan 3 remarks about Chaucer's masks
He went even beyond that degree of self -consciousness;

he grasped the nature and the meaning of the mask which
the humorist must wear, and let us see that he saw
through it by now and then peeping from under it.
There are hints of Chaucer's assumed naivete In his comments
relating to some of the pilgrims whom he describes. For instance,

when the Summoner says.
Cazamlan, op . clt . p. 63.

2 Chaucer, Prolo;;ue to The Canterbury Tales line 746.
,
3 Cazamlan, op_. clt . p. 67.
: *
26
Purs la the ercedekenes he lie,
Chaucer comments,
But wel I woot he lyed right In dede;

Of cursyng oghte ech guilty man him dred,
For curs wol slee right as assoillyng savith.
And also war hym of a Slgnlf lcavlt .2
Earlier when the monk is being described as one who "heeled after
the newe world the space" and as one who did not hold to the
theory that a monk should stay in his "cloystre," again Chaucer
gives us a little Ironical aside:
And I sede his opinion was good.

Why sholde he studie and make hymselven wood,
Upon a book In cloystre alwey to poure,
As Austyn bit? How shall the world be served?
Lat Austyn have his swynk to him reserved |3
Let us listen to the words of "Cure Hoost" as he speaks to
Chaucer
. . • "What man artow?" quod he;

"Thou lookest as thow woldes fynde an hare,
For evere upon the ground I se thee stare.
"Approche neer, and looks up murlly.

Now war yow, sires, and lat this man have placet
He in the waast is shape as wel as I;
This were a popet in an arm t 'embrace
For any womman, smal and fair of face. 4
He semeth elvyssh by his contenaunce,
For unto no wight dooth he daliaunce.
Prologue to The Canterbury Tales , line 655.

2lbid., lines 659-661.
3 Ibld., lines 183-188.
4Another phase of Chaucer's self -minimizing pose, though
minor perhaps, is this reference to his plumpness. Perhaps this
explains why Chaucer could never conceive of himself as a lover,
but one who must spend his time reading about love. The fact
of his plumpness seems to be confirmed in line 31 of Lenvoy a
Sft nsjfl n - —
27
"Sey now somwhat, syn oother folk nan saydj

Telle us a tale of murthe, and that anon." 1
In the words of the Host we have noted Chaucer's downcast
look. Some would say that this only Indicates his sadness after
having heard the Prioress 1

very touching tale, but the word
"evere" In the line "for evere upon the ground 112 seems to Indi-
cate that It Is a characteristic of the poet which has been with
him all during the Journey. Anyway, the "creator of all the
pilgrims," when asked to tell a tale, protests that all he knows
Is an old rime which he "lerned longe agoon." After the Host

has given his assent, Chaucer launches out Into the "doggerel
Jog-trot" of the stanzas of Sir Thopas . He Is allowed to finish
only one "fit" and begin another until the Host declares he can
stand no more of It. 3 Could It be that "mine host" has mistaken
the "mask" for the "face" and accepted Sir Thopas as a serious
romance? 4
In reference to Sir Thopas as a parody, Hevlll Coghlll
comments :
But the kind of parody brought off by Chaucer In

Sir Thopas Is a piece of cunning literary mockery of
current popular taste, even to the variations In the
verse-forms sprinkled through the first 'fit,' scrupu-
lously copied In derision from current models. As for the
matter, the Inane tedium of such tales, apart from their
doggerel dance of syllables and rhyme. Is faithfully
mocked, as anyone who can bring himself to read such
romances as Sir Isumbras, Sir Eglamour , or Sir Perclval ,
in the collection known as The ThornTon Romances , can
perceive.
^haucer^ôloûe to Sir Thopas , lines 695-706.

^Robinson, 0£. cit., p. 12.
4 Coghill, o£. cT77,
p. 151.
:
28
Is this tale then to be taken as an exemplification of

"ray wit Is short" pose? Then what shall we do with the Tale of
Me Ilbee , which Chaucer tells when he Is not allowed to finish
Sir Thopas 1 One critic^- has observed that It would appear to
the modern reader that Chaucer, cut off In the midst of Sir
Thopas , revenges himself by telling the dull tale of Mellbee.
Yet It Is possible to argue that this type of moralizing was
very common at the time and would have seemed neither funny nor
tedious to anyone, even to Chaucer. Anyway, It was received
with great enthusiasm by "Cure Boost' who says:

1
. . . "As I am felthful man,

And by that precious corpus Hadrian,
I hadde levere than a barel ale
That Goodellef, my wyf, hadde herd this taleJ^
We may have to conclude with Coghill 3 that It Is an "enigma."
Or with Root 4 ws may decide that this Is a good opportunity to
take Chaucer at his word when he says of another tale
And therefore, whoso list It not yhere,

Turne over the leef, and chese another tale.
The Complaint of Chaucer to His Purse
The Envoy to The Complaint of Chaucer to His Purse may be
precisely dated. It must have been written between September
30, 1399, when Henry was received as king by the parliament, and
October 3, 1399, when Chaucer received the royal grant of an
jKoot, og. olt ., p. 203.

^Chaucer, Prologue to the Monk's Tale , lines 1891-1894.
^Coghlll, o_£. clt., p. 153~
4 Root, og. clt
., p. 203.
:
29
additional stipend of forty marks. It has been suggested that
the poem, with the envoy, was written earlier and may have been
originally Intended for Richard II.
Chaucer's complaint in the conventional language of the
amorous appeal of a lover to his mistress is certainly a happy
variation on a well-worn theme:
To yow, my purse, and to noon other wight

Complayne I, for ye be my lady dere I
I am so sory, now that ye been lyght;
For certes, but ye make me hevy chere,
Me were as leef be layd upon my bere;
For which unto your mercy thus I crye
Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye J
Now vcucheth sauf this day, or yt be nyght,

That I of yow the bllsful soun may here,
Or see your colour lyk the sonne bryght,
That of yelownesse hadde never pere.
Ye be my lyf, ye be myn hertes stere,
Quene of comfort and of good companye:
Beth hevy ageyn, or elles moote I dye J
Now purse, that ben to me my lyves lyght

And saveour, as doun in this world here,
Out of this toune hslpe me thrugh your myght,
Syn that ye wole nat ben my tresorere;
For I am shave as nye as any frere.
But yet I pray unto your curtesye s
Beth hevy agen, or elles moote I dye I
Lenvoy de Chaucer
conquerour of Brutes Albyon,

Which that by lyne and free eleccion
Been verray kyng, this song to yow I sende;
And ye, that mowen alle oure harmes amende,
Have mynde upon my supplicaclonj2
As we have already noted, this happy little appeal was not only
skillful but effective; Chaucer received a grant from Henry IV
^Robinson, op_. clt., p. 616.

2chaucer, The Complaint of Chaucer to His Purse,
30
on October 3, 1399, This was perhaps one of his last poems as
the last recorded payment of his pension was June 5, 1400, and
according to the generally accepted date Inscribed on his tomb
In Westminster Abbey, he died October 25, 1400,
Thus through a period of thirty years the development of
Chaucer's pose of naivete has been traced and examined. Its
consistent development has been noted, as well as its purpose
in the author's writing. We have seen it from its awkward be-
ginning In The Book of the Duchess to its effective conclusion
in The Complaint of Chaucer to His Purse .
THE TEMPER OF THE TIMES
Since it Is the supposition of this thesis that Chaucer
dealt in a genial, but nonetheless satirical, fashion with the
society of his day, It seems appropriate to give a brief survey
of the historical events and social situations of his time. Only

through allusions here and there in his works can we say that
Chaucer was actually conscious of the great events of his day,
yet we know from certain events of his own life and background
that he was very much a part of the life and activity of his
country. Actually we can say that his works were consciously
untopical In nature. We can detect many subtle probes at the
Institutions and traditions of his day, but the Important events
of his day, such as the war between Prance and England, the
Peasants' Revolt, the Black Death, were almost never written
about directly.
It Is certainly true that Chaucer lived In an "epoch-making

31
age." Kngland's claim to the lordship of the seas was at least
a century old; but Sluys, 2 her first decisive maritime victory,
was won In the same year In which Chaucer was probably bornj six
years later, Calais became In a sense England's first colony. 3
During the first thirty years of Chaucer's life, Kngland's armies
had never been so frequently and so uniformly victorious.
Chivalry, a dying Institution of the nobility, flared up
In a kind of "autumnal splendor" during this period. 4 The
essence of vassalage which had consisted of a personal loyalty
to a single lord was a thing of the past, as a man might now
collect a dozen fiefs with as many lords. Carl Stephenson 5 states
that under such conditions chivalry became more and more an
aristocratic affectation, overlaid with the courtolsle of the
fashionable romance. By the end of the thirteenth century
chivalry had been made Into an elaborate ceremony— half mystic
sacrament to conform to the Ideals of the church, and half
courtly pageant to delight the eyes of the high-born ladles. In
the fourteenth century the lower the noble sank In Importance,
the more extravagantly he flaunted his pride of birth and his
Coulton, Chaucer and His England , p. 10.

2 See Frolssart (Thomas Johnes, editor), pp. 72, 73, for
a very Interesting account of the battle of Sluys. In fact
no better account of the Hundred Years' War could be found
than that of Frolssart. However, we do find his accounts
slanted toward the upper classes rather than the yeomen,
peasants and others of the lower classes who both kept the
war going and suffered Its aftermath.
jCoulton, Chaucer and His Kngland , p. 10.
*Johnson, 6p. clt .7~~p. 1UB.
5 Carl Stephenson, Mediaeval History p. 444.
,
32
feudal tradition. Even in the case of Philip VI and Edward III,
Stephenson*- remarks that their chivalrous ostentation ill con-
cealed their actual worthlessness. But in the practical sense
chivalry was dying) the longbow had already destroyed the mili-
tary value of the mounted knight: Crecy was actually won by
the arrows of the massed yeomen.
Even though it was just another chapter in an old, old
story, during the time of Chaucer there were rustles of anti-
clerical dissatisfaction, which reached a head in the last years
of Edward III and under Richard II. Ever since the Conquest
there had been a tendency to resent papal Interference in English
affairs. While thus distrusting many actions of the papacy,
many Englishmen were also becoming at this time antagonistic to

2
their clergy, with their vast lands and increasing wealth.
Economic discontent and religious dissatisfaction were closely
Interwoven, and both are evident in the teaching and influenoe
of England's great contemporary religious leader, John Wyclif.
Along with decadent chivalry and dissatisfaction with the
clergy, the years of Chaucer's life saw also the social and
econouic discontent of the dying days of serfdom. In the
fourteenth century, there were three great risings for which
the peasants were at least in part responsible: the Insurrection
of 1323-1328 In West Flanders, the Jacquerie of 1357 In northern
Loc. clt.
2l7~p.~I!a"ll and R. G. Albion, A History of England and the
British Empire , pp. 139,190.
33
France, and the Great Revolt In 1381. * As far as the Revolt of
1331 Is concerned, the social questions Involved cannot be under-
stood unless we remember that In 1331 more than half the people
of England did not have the privileges which Magna Charta prom-
ised each "freeman." 2 At the same time, England had been unable
to adjust herself to the tremendous dislocation of labor caused
by the Black Death during the middle of the fourteenth century.
Consequently, laborers were growing more and more conscious of
their importance and at the same time their lack of privileges.
During this period of disintegration of the forces of the
Middle Ages, new forces, new factors were at work producing
what we like to think of as the modern world. 3 In fact, the
England of Edward III already contained the main national fac-
tors which we find In the England of today. One factor which
gave a fresh direction to society was the rise of the middle
class. In the Middle Ages, society, as we have already noted,
was divided Into three main elements: the clergy, the nobility,
and the third estate; but by the time of Chaucer, we have already
seen that the clergy was losing much of Its Influence, the power
of the nobility was waning, and a new social class was rising to
Importance. Since the class developed between the titled nobil-
ity on the one hand and the peasantry and small artisans on the
other, It is called the middle class, or the bourgeoisie . This
^Stephenson, 0£. clt., p. 441.

2 G. II. Trevelyan, Chaucer and the Age of
Mlycllffe , p. 195.
3 hobert Ergang, Europe fTom the Renaissance to Waterloo
, p. 3.
34
new class had originally been composed of those who made the most
of the opportunities offered by the revival of commerce during
the Crusades. Along with the progress of this class came many
other things, such as the growth of new urban centers, craft
gilds, capitalistic enterprises, and development of banking.
Hence, the entire economic expansion of the early modern period
is In a way an expression of the middle class.
With the change In the class relations came the rise of the
national states in western Europe. Or. the one hand the national
idea was beginning to break up the theoretical unity of Christen-
dom, the iioly homan aiaplre, and, on the other hand, the disjoint-
ed political fragments were being fused more or less into homo-
geneous states. 1 In these new national states the king was the
focus of power. The national governments under strong monarchs
were absorbing the old feudal states both as to territory and as
to function. In this process of unification the monarch was en-
abled to overcome the power of the remaining feudal nobles only
with the financial support of the rising middle class. A good
example of imperialism which Chaucer hlaiaelf witnessed was
Edward's armed claim to the throne of France and another in the
attempt of John of Gaunt to seise the kingdom of Castile. 2
Another great item which displayed Cuauoer's age as one of
transition was the new emphasis upon learning in many different
facets. Learning and art had long ceased to be predominately
^•Coulton, Chaucer and His an&land , p. 9.

^Johnson, £?_. clt ., p. 100.
35
monastic. True monastic Ism was mainly puritan, and therefore
unfavorable to free development in any way except that of mystlo
contemplation. It Is notable, also, that our universities rose
on the ruins of monastic learning. Before the end of Edward
Ill's reign, the English universities had become far more truly
national than at any previous time; their training less definite-
ly ecclesiastical* and their culture overflowed to laymen like
Chaucer and Gower.2 Moreover, the Inns of Court had become
practically lay universities of law. It Is very likely that
Chaucer had his training, which equipped him for the diplomatic
business, at one of the Inns of Court, the Inner Temple.
Another phase of learning and study during this period,
which had a great deal of Influence on Chaucer's own writing,
was that of humanism. The credit for the revival of Interest In
humanistic study goes to Petrarch. Even before his time the
humanist had existed, but the earlier humanist was essentially
one who remained loyal to the Ideal of the ancient grammarians
or the secular literature of pagan antiquity. 4 It Is inevitable
that the weakening of ecclesiastical Influence should produce a
sharp reaction towards secular Ideals In education. Now the
tendency In Italy was the emphasis upon the aesthetlc--to study
interesting are the collections on the university life

of Chaucer's day by Edith Rlckert In her Chaucer's England,
pp. 128-138. She Includes such excerpts as : Law Students In
a Fray, Requirements for the Bachelor's Degree (1340), and
Blacklisted Books (among which are Ovid's Art of Love and any
other book which might lure or provoke the schoTars to think
of that which is forblddenl)
fcoulton, Chaucer and His England, pp. 8, 9.
—
^John L. Lowes , ue'oTTrey Caaicer, p. 41.
^Stephenson, op. oll .T-p. 408.
36
literature for Its own sake. Even though Petrarch may have been
largely responsible for the revival of the new interest In the
classics, it was also "Boccaccio's practice to direct men to the
artistic purpose of the writers of antiquity, who portrayed life
realistically." All the literature of the past was quite differ-
ent from the .nystlclsm and allegory that shadowed the Middle Ages.
Chaucer 's pathway to realism was much more difficult than that of
Boccaccio, because the entire atmosphere in Italy was more sym-
pathetic to art. One hundred and fifty years later England was
ready for what Chaucer had discovered. Sir Philip Sidney's 2
tribute to Chaucer In this respect follows:
Chaucer, undoubtedly did excellently well in his

Troilus and Criseyde: of whom, truly, I know not whether
to marvel more, either that he in that misty time could
see so clearly, or that we In this clear age go so
stumbllngly after him.
Chaucer lived in the very flood tide of all the changes
which have been noted above and, indeed, was very much a part
of them, lie was born of a middle class London family, he had
court connections that brought him into public employment all
his life. He served in the English army in France as early as
1359, at which time he was taken prisoner near hhelms. The
next year he was released on ransom, to which Edward III con-
tributed. He was an ambassador on diplomatic and secret missions
to France, Italy, and Flanders. In March of 1381 he even helped

negotiate a marriage betueen Riohard II and a daughter of the
E. 7« Shannon, Chaucer and the Koman Poets, pp. 377, 378.

2 Ibld., p. 382.
37
King of France. In 1384, after his return from his mission to
Italy, he was appointed Conptroller In the port of London of
the customs and subsidy of wools, hides, and wines. This office
he probably held until 1386. In 1385 he had become one of the
sixteen Justices of peace for Kent. The following year he was
chosen as Knight of the Shire (not In chlvalrlc sense) for Kent.
One of his most responsible positions, which he held under royal
appointment, was the office of Clerk of the King's Works. In
1390-1391 and again In 1397-1398, he was appointed one of two
deputy-keepers of the small royal forest of North Petherton.
Tatlook 1 states that It Is probably during these North Petherton
years that Chaucer forned his valuable relation with Henry Bollng-
broke. "Thus from the beginning of his life to the end, as a
man In this world his life was contingent on the reigning
sovereign and his family." 2 Not only was there this Important
court connection, but his work brought him Into contact with
all types of people, whom we shall next study as he so delight-
fully and subtly depicted them.
CHIVALRY AND THE UPPER CLASSES
Thus far In this thesis the point has been established
that satire was a common Instrument In the writing of Chaucer.
This satire has been defined as being the kind after the "order
of Horace," that It Is not necessarily malicious and offensive.
J. S. P. Tatlock, The Mind and Art of Chaucer , p. 14.

2 Ibld., p. 15.
38
but usually genial and "smiling. 1'

It has been shown wherein he
has used satire in self -deprecation. The purpose of this expli-
cation has been to show how this technique set the tone and led
the way to the study of his method of criticism of his contem-
poraries and their traditions. The temper of the times has
been shown in order to give a historical background against which
Chaucer's portraits may more graphically be seen. It is, how-
ever, with his criticism of the upper classes that this thesis
is ultimately concerned. Examples from the portrayal of other
daises will only be shown to contrast with and to serve as high-
lighting for the upper groups.
Especially through the framework of The Canteroury Tales
are we allowed to visualise examples of a whole society. We
find various ideas and pictures reemphaslzed in other writings,
but it is in The Tales that we get the fullest view. Only on
a religious pilgrimage could suoh a heterogeneous group be found.
Indeed, it proves a normal way to bring all kinds of people to-
gether. Tho circle of the royalty and the higher nobility is
not directly represented, to be sure. Men of such rank could
hardly have been included in the company, iiut the vivid life
and manners of a courtly society are well expressed by Knight,
the Squire, and even the Prioress. A lesser gentry is found In
the land-owning Franklin. The Sergeant at Law and the Physician
illustrate the learned professions. We have the Merchant to
represent the upper reaches of commerce --the new class of wool
exporters, exchange -manipulators, beginners In capitalism. The
Wife of bath, a cloth-maker, is also representative of the newest

59
and most important of England's Industries at the tine. iiext
below this group are the "churl-folk," of whom the Ulller la
probably the grandest. Next come the servunt class, with the
Manciple and the Reve in the upper brackets and the Yeoman and
the Cook below them. At the lowest of the whole scale, yet
treated kindly by Chaucer, his creator, is the country Ploughman.
The Church is rather well represented, too, and at lsast one
representative, the Prioress, probably possesses "noble blood"
such as that of the Knight. At the other end of the clergy scale
is the village Parson, brother of the Ploughman, and in Ilka
manner treated kindly. Then soaewhere between the ecclesiastics
and the laymen comes the representative of the university, the
Clerk of Oxford. At a moral and social level below all of these
come the Pardoner and the Sommoner. "Both were laymer., hangers-
on of the Church, and hated." 1
The Knight and the Squire
As representative of both chivalry and the upper

classes
Chaucer has given us the Knight and hla son, the Squire,
in the
fo»eral frolofiue. to the Canterbury Tales . The Knight is portray-
ed as one who loves "chlvalrle, trout he and honour,
freedom and
curtetsie." 2 Considering the places he had been In wars and
crusades, he could very well be a Teutonic Knight.
Coghlll, o£. cit., p. 117.

g General Prologue
, lines 45, 46.
: , . .
40
Manly* sorts the campaigns of the Knight Into three groups,
arranged In probable order of time. The first group, he says,
represents events In "a long struggle to drive the Moors out of
Spain and to punish their piratical raids from Northern Africa
upon Christians and Christian commerce."
In Gernade at the seege eek hadde he be

Of Algezlr, and rlden In Belmarye
And foughten for owe felth at Tramyssene

In lystes thrles, and ay slayne his foo. 2
The second group which Manly suggests, and the most Impor-
tant, Is referred to In the following lines:
At Allsaundre he was whan It was wonne
At Lyeys was he and at Satalye

Whan they were wonne; and In the Grete See
At many a noble armee hadde he be
This like worthy knyght hadde been also

Somtyme with the lord of Palatye
Agayn another hethen In Turkye. 3
The third chronological group Manly says Is suggested In
the following lines
Pul ofte tyme he hadde the bord blgonne

Aboven alle naclons In Pruce;
In Lettow hadde he reysed and In Ruce,
No Christen man so ofte of his degree.*
Even with all this "military glory"
... he was wys

And of his port as raeeke as Is a mayde
He never yet no vlleynye ne sayde
In al his lyf unto no manner wight
^Manly, clt ., pp. 52ff.

op_.
2 General Prologue , lines 56, 57; 62, 63.
3 Ibld., lines 51; 58-60; 64-66.
4 Ibld ., lines 52-55.
2 .
41
He was a verray, parfit gentil knight. 1
If we are looking for "richness of color" In Chaucer's
Knight, we will have to be content with hla many expeditions,
for we will not find it In his present array.
His hors were goode, but he was nat gay.

Of fustian he wered a gypon
Al blsmotered with his habergeon,
This, however, only adds to the picture of the knight of honor
and service, for the lines which follow these Indicate that he
had Just returned from a "vlage" and has been anxious to go on
the pilgrimage to pay homage to Saint Thomas, the patron of

the
wounded and the ill.
If, however, we are looking for a representative of knight-
hood who is gay, romantic, and vivid, let us take a look at

the
Squire, the Knight's son. After all, he Is a product of his
father's training, so it is not too much to assume that he is
a younger "version" of our "worthy Knight" and even as the Knight
may become after he returns to his home from the pilgrimage.
A lovyere and a lusty bacheler,

With lokkes crulles as they were leyd in presse.
Embrouded was he, as It were a meede

Al ful of freshe floures, whyte and reede.
Syngynge he was, or floytynge, at the day;
He was as fressh as Is the month of May.
iVel koude he sitte on hors and faire ryde

He koude songes make and wel endltej
Juste and eek daunce, and weel purtreye and write.
So hoote he lovede that by nyghtertale
He sleep namoore than dooth a nyghtyngale
ilbid., lines 68-72.

Îbld .. lines 74-76.
42
Curtels he was, lowely, and servysable,.

And earf blforn his fader at the table.
The tale which the Knight tells la certainly an Indication
of his courtly love tendencies. It la the story of Palamon and
Arclte and their courtly love affair with Emily. For our pur-
pose at this point we are only Interested in the tales insofar
as they help reveal to us the nature in which Chaucer charac-
terizes the teller. Root says concerning the nature of this
tales
If we are to read the Knight's Tale In the spirit

in which Chaucer conceived It, we must give ourselves
up to the spirit of romance; we must not look for subtle
characterization, nor for strict probability of action;
we must delight in the fair shows of things, and not
ask too many questions. Chaucer can be realistic enough
when he so elects; but here he has chosen otherwise .2. . .
It Is not In the characterization, but in the

description that the greatness of the Knlfiht 's Tale
resides. . . . The Knight's Tale Is preeminently a web
of splendidly pictured tapestry, in which the eye may
take delight, and on which the memory may fondly
linger.
So we may conclude that the Knight tells a story of the straight
courtly love theme such as we would expect him to tell from the
Idea which Chaucer emphasizes In him — the personification of
idealism in chivalry.
The Squire is permitted to tell a story of pure romance,
full of adventure and enchantment, laid in the distant land of

Cambyuskan. 4 His tale conforms with his character as shown in
Îbid., lines 80, 81; 89-92; 94-100.

2 hoot, og. clt., p. 169.
Slbld., pp. 171, 172.
*Roblnson, op_. clt . , p. 9.
43
The General Prologue . It has features of all the romance of the
courtly code. The main part of his story Is that of a falcon
deserted and betrayed by her tercelet lover. It Is filled with
wonders, horses of brass, magic mirrors, rings, and swords.
"There is no knowing how long he would have wandered among such
age-old, ever fresh Imaginings, had he not been Interrupted by
the Franklin."
1
Root 2 compares the tales of the Knight and the
Squire by saying that the Knight has "lived his life and worked
his work," and that his tale Is of deeds already accomplished.
The Squire, though he has been "somtyme In chlvachye" Is living
mainly In the infinite future, where all things are possible.
To most people the portraiture and the tales of the Knight
and the Squire are simply Ideal examples of Medieval noble
society. But we must remember that these two were contempo-
raries of Chaucer and when held up against the actual circum-
stances of the day they are anachronistic. The satire Is very
subtle, but It is there, nonetheless, contrasting Chaucer's noble
society as It actually was and how It sometimes pretended to be. >
Let us take another look at chivalry and knighthood, before
and at the time of Chaucer, In order that we may more vividly
see that Chaucer, as well as his audience, knew that In the
portrayal of the Knight and the Squire there was Irony. Chival-
ry, a feature of feudalism, was the code of behavior of the Ideal
knight. Primitive chivalry 3 was originally non-Christian and
^Coghlll, op_. clt ., p. 167.

2 Koot, 0£. clt ., pp. 269, 270.
^Stephenson, op. clt ., p. 187.
:
44
carried strictly masculine Implications. It was simply the
standards of behavior adopted by those of the warrior class to
govern their relations with one another. The knight wa3 to
fight bravely and according to certain accepted rules, scorning
tricks and strategy that might be considered cowardly. He must
be loyal to his friends, treat a conquered foe with gallantry,
yet toward the baseborn he felt no such obligation. It was as
Salzman states
"Chivalry, Indeed, was a class conception, an elaborate
and ornate code of courtesy toward equals and superiors, which .y/
concerned itself little with the existence of inferiors." J/f

By the thirteenth century the old masculine chivalry was
beginning to be subordinated to the glorification of women. A
type of sentimental vassalage now became the order of the day;
each knight must be in "spiritual vassalage" to a lady and each
lady must have her courtly lover. Now the knight must joust for
the favor of proud ladles and seek opportunities to rescue dam-
sels in distress. The songs of courtly love began to create a
world of unreality. The rough fighting men, in outward form
at least, took on more polished manners under the influence of
cpurtoisle.
Muriel Bowden 2 reminds us that before the eleventh century
chivalry as we understand it today did not exist as an institu-
tion.
*J. F. Salzman, English Life in the Middle Ages, p. 191.

2 Murlel Bowden, A
Commentary on the General Prologue to
The Canterbury Tales , p. 45.
45
It was not until 1095, when Urban II In proclaim-

ing the First Crusade, welded together the Cross and the
sword, that the Christian Ideal of the Order of Knight-
hood was created and took such high position In man's
aspirations. ... It was inevitable, of course, that
few would ever attain, either then or in the centuries
to follow, the exalted standard set by Urban II. As
Professor Hearnshaw points out, "the deoadence of chival-
ry can be discovered in its very idea;" "medieval religion
was too irrational, medieval warfare too cruel," for the
Institution of chivalry ever to have realized its ideal
"even approximately."
Certainly by the fourteenth century the real Crusades as first
Instituted and conceived were at an end. How many of the so-
called Crusades were no more than piratical raids. A couple of
generations before Chaucer's birth Ktienne de Bourbon stated
that the upper classes "not only did not take the cross, but
1
scoffed at the lower orders when they did so."
Besides the contributing factor of the waning of the
original seal and purpose of the Crusades to the decaying of
chivalry and feudalism, there are several other factors that
should be reviewed, We have pointed out earlier that the es-
sence of feudalism, the loyalty of one vassal to one lord, had
ended with the possibility that a vassal now might have several
fiefs with as many lords. Another "fatal cause of the decay of
chivalry, perhaps, lay in the growing prosperity of the merchant
class." There came a slow but sure intermingling between the
two classes, and it was not long before the rich plebeian could
buy for himself the sacred rank of Knighthood. There were now
Coulton, Chaucer and His England , p. 191.

2 Loc. clt.
46
ways of raising oneself to the "upper ranks" without having been
horn there. Even Chaucer's most "worthy Knight" has something
to say about rising to a higher "estaat":
As whan a man hath been In povre eataat

And clymbeth up and wexeth fortunat
And there abideth in prosperitee
Swlch thyng is gladsom, as It thynketh me .
And of swioh thyng were goodly for to telle.
Another contributing factor to the falling away of chivalry was
the war between France and England. It would only take Frois-
sart's^ account of the battle of Crecy to show how the knight
with all his panoply was actually put in a secondary position

by the yeomen with the longbow and the Cornish and Welshmen on
foot, armed with large knives, "falling upon earls, barons,
knights, and squires." Edward III tried conaorlption to fill
the ranks of his array. 3 Then as the source of conscription
began to dry up, the King had to hire troops. It was also
through the necessity of using every possible means to raise an
army that we find at a very early stage in the war important
commands given to knights and squires who had fought themselves
up from the ranks. Coulton 4 cites the example of Sir John Hawk-
wood, the moat renowned of all these soldiers of fortune, who
had begun as a common archer.
Projected against all of this, it is not hard for us to see
that Chaucer's Knight is out-of-date. Let us take for example
* Prologue to Hun's Priest's Tale , lines 2775-2779.

2Froissart, op_. clt. , pp. 164-168.
•Jcoulton, Chaucer and His England , pp. 232-244.
4 Ibid ., p. 242.
47
his campaigns. These have a bearing upon Chaucer's portrayal
of the Knight. Let us consider the "sacking" of Alexandria In
1365, which might to soma go under the heading of a crusade,
and In which our Knight supposedly participated. Steven huncl-
man* Is very vivid In his description of this piratical attack
on Alexandria, which was supposed to become a base for a later
attack upon Jerusalem. The victory of Alexandria was celebrated
by unparalleled savagery. The two and a half centuries of Holy
Warfare had taught the crusaders nothing of humanity. "The
whole city stank with the odour of human and animal corpses."
All was a sad disappointment to Peter I of Cyprus who was the
instigator and leader of the expedition, but who did not favor
the pillaging which went on. "The holocaust of Alexandria
marks the end of those Crusades whose direct object was the
recovery of the Holy Land." Another thing which takes away
from our romantic conception of the Knight is what Hulzlnga^
tells about the Teutonic Knights, one of whom we have assumed
our Knight to be. Though the order was "born of mutual penetra-
tion of monastic and feudal Ideas," it quite early took on the
"character of great political and economic Institutions." The
primary aim was no longer the practice of chivalry; "that ele-
ment, as well as their spiritual aspirations, had been more or
less effaced by their political and financial Importance."
•••Steven Runclman, The History of the Crusades, 3:441-448,

2johan Hulzinga, The Waning of The Middle AJles , p. 74.
,
48
Thus we may conclude this section, by saying that the Knight
and Squire, as well as their tales, are pictures of romantic V

idealism. However, we do not laugh at the "parflt gentll" Knight
and hla son, only do we "smile" with Chaucer at a society that
pretends to be what it Is not*
The Franklin
The purpose in choosing the Franklin to be discussed at
this time is to show his connection In the pilgrimage with the
Squire and consequently with the society which the Squire repre-
sents.
The imaginative story of the Squire is either left unfinish-
ed or Interrupted gently by the Franklin. At least the Franklin

Is the next to speak:
"In felth, Squler, Thow has thee wel yqult

And gentllly, I prelse wel thy wit,"
ûod the Frankeleyn, "considerynge thy yowthe,
So feelyngly thou spekest, sire, I allow the!
As to my doom, ther Is noon that is heere
Of eloquence that shal be thy peere
If that thou lyve j God yeve thee good chaunce,
And In verty send thee oontinuauncel
B'or of thy speche I have greet deyntee.
I have a sone, and by the Trinitee,
I hadde levere than twenty pound worth lond,
Though It right now were fallen myn hond,
He were a man of swich dlscrecloun
As that ye beenl Fy on possession,
But if a man be vertuous withal I
I have my sone snybbed, and yet shal,
For he to vertu llateth nat entende;
But for to pleye at dees, and to despende
And lese al that he hath, Is his usage.
And he hath lever talken with a page
Than to comune with any gentil wight
Where he myghte lerne gentlllesse aright." 1
'
The Squire's Tale , lines 673-694.
49
The Host Interrupts the Franklin with:

v
"Straw for youre gentilleseel" . . .

"What, Frankeleynl pardee, sire, wel tnou woost
That ech of yow .aoot tellen atte leste
i
A tale or two, or broken his biheste."
The Franklin does not take offence at the Host's rude Inter-
ruption, but politely answers:
"That knowe I wel, sire," . . .

"I prey yow, haveth rae nat in de3deyn, g
Though to this man I speke a word or two."
Kven when the Host again speaks rather harshly:

3
"Telle on thy tale withouten wordes mo,"
the Franklin replies with the same good manners:
"Gladly, sire Hoost," ... "I wole obeye

Unto your wyl; now herkneth what I seye.
I wol yow nat contrarlen in no wyse
As fer as that my wittes wol suffyse.
I prey to Ood that it may plesen yow; .
Thanne woot I wel tnat it is good ynow."*
As he begins his tale we note the same self -deprecatory tone
that we have seen In Chaucer. Ho calls himself a "burel" man
and says that he never slept on Parnassus, learned Cicero, or
acquainted himself with the colors of rhetoric. 5 "These are
the half -humorous deprecations of a person who made no pretence
of clerkly lore, though he showed sufficient learning in hia
tale." 6
Our attention has been aroused. Who is this man that could
1
Ibld ., lines 695-698.
gig id . , lines 699-701.
3xbld., line 702.
*T5£r. , lines 703-708.
5 Franklln's Prologue , lines 716-726.
Suordon H. Gerould, Chaucerian Kssays , p. 35.
2
50
Interrupt the Squire, yet praise him and wish his own son were
like him? Who Is he that could answer the brusque words of
the Host with a demonstration of "a soft answer turneth away
wrath"? As we look at his portrait In The General Prologue , 1

I
we find that Chaucer has presented him In a complimentary light.
He Is presented as one who Is very hospitable; In fact, Chaucer
calls him "Saint Julian ... In his country." He likes good
food and likes to share It with others.
Hla table dormant In his halle alway

Stood redy covered al the longe day.
Added to all this hospltability and good living were the
many positions held by him. At the time of the pilgrimage he

was In the company of a Sergeant of the Law who had a notable
position In the society of that day. The Franklin was "lord
and sire" at "sesslouns," which means that he sat Importantly
as Justice in petty session. He had been a sheriff and a
"contour," one who probably audited the accounts of the sheriff.
He was a worthy "vavasour." Manly* says that the etymology of
the word "vavasour" Indicates that the word originally designated
"a tenant who holds his land not Immediately from the king, but
Immediately as a subordinate of some direct holder." Both
Manly and Gerould believe that "franklin" and "vavasour" were
words used Interchangeably and that a vavasour, or franklin,
1 The
General Prologue , lines 331-360.
a Ibld . , lines 353, 354.
3 Gerould, 0£. clt ., p. 35.
4Manly, 0£. clt ., p. 165.
5 Gerould, 0£. clt ., pp. 50, 51.
.
51
was a magnate and a person of dignity, often Indicated as only
a little lower than a baron.
According to Manly, Gerould, and Sowden 1 the main trouble
relating to the disagreement concerning the Franklin's social
position goes back to J. J. Todd's Interpretation of Sir John
Fortesoue as saying that franklins did not belong to the gentry.
Qerould especially condemns Henry Bradley, Root, and Klttredge
for having been misled by this Interpretation. Gerould 2 and
Bowden3 both refer to John Russell's book of etiquette, Book
of Nurture , of about the same time as the writings of Fortescue,
as placing the franklin at the table of the squire. It is
Indicated that franklins were not only associated with knights,
but had considerable estate and wealth.
Bowden* would add to the proof that the Franklin was of
the gentry the fact that he was wearing both "anlaas" and "glp-
ser." She states that "only wealthy civilians and distinguished
men of law are shown wearing both dagger and purse In the monu-
mental brasses of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries."
The Franklin's tale Is the story of Dorlgen and Arveragus
It has much of the courtly love theme In It, but at the same ''
time It has the reconciliation of that love In faithful Christian
marriage. "How to be happy though married Is not Its true theme," 5
^Bowden, 0£. clt., p. 176.

2o«rould, o£. clt ., p. 42.
3Bowden, loc . clt .
*Loc. clt .
5 Coghlll, o£. clt ., p. 171.
1
52
however. The main theme Is that of noble behavior and generos- <
lty. It Is a story of promises kept and fidelity rewarded. It
Is a story that leaves a good taste, a feeling that the policy
of "good for evil" Is a rewarding one.
There are the possibilities of two kinds of satire In the
portrait of the Franklin, One la a looking down upon him for
his uncomfortable consciousness of a certain lack of gentility.
But since we have concluded that the Franklin, even though not
of the nobility, had a social position and advantages very near
that of the Knight and Squire, It la hard to believe that he
felt inferior to them. "That the Franklin was both proud and
sure of himself Is shown by his good-natured acquiescence at
Harry Ballly's interruption." 2 If the breaking off of the
Squire's tale was due to an Interruption by the Franklin, It
would not be an unnatural thing to have happen. In fact, Cog-
hill goes so far as to say that the Franklin was the only person
present, except the proud Knight, fit to Interrupt the Squire.
Also, many have been concerned that the Franklin wishes that his
son were like the Squire. Can we say that he Is necessarily
envious of the Squire, or Is It not rather the natural tendency
of a father to wish that his own son had turned out better?
Then we might say that the satire Is the type at which Mark
Twain was very adept — that Is, burlesque of such nature that In
^Root, op. clt. , p. 27.

2 0eroul37 op_.clt ., p. 54.
3 Coghlll, 0£. clt ., p. 123.
53
actuality It la directed against the nobility Itself. Again

let us make haste to say that the satire la not directly
against our anachronistic Knight and Squire, but against a
pretentious contemporary English society that would atlll cling,
In theory at least, to feudallstlc chivalry that la decadent.
Chaucer Is conscious that the "Jig Is up," and knows that his
contemporaries are too, If they would only admit It.
The Prioress
In our survey of the upper classes as depicted by Chaucer,
the portrait of the Prioress follows naturally those of the
Knight and the Squire, for "nuns In Chaucer's day were almost
always drawn from the upper classes." 1 Coulton In his Medieval

Panorama remarks concerning thla matter:
The large majority of nuns were of the upper or

—
upper middle classes younger daughters lacking the
—
necessary dowry for marriage and, In the cloister
promotion naturally went very often by good birth and
good connections; It may well have been that Madame
Eglantyne was of nobler lineage than the Knl*ht
himself.
Other evidences of upper class background and manners will be
shown as we later discuss her description as it is given In the
Ceneral Prologue .
Even without a thorough knowledge of convent life of the
day of our poet and as it was originally designed to be, one
cannot read the description of Chaucer's Prioress without feeling
Ifiowden, o£. cit., p. 92.

*G« G» Coulton, Medieval Panorama , p. 276.
54
the "rippling undercurrent" of his humor and satire. It 13 '
"Chaucer's own peculiar satlre--mellow, amused, uncondemnlng,
the most subtle kind of satire, which does not depend upon ex-
aggeration." 1 Then after we have read Miss Power's Medieval
Bngllsh Kunnerles as she shows us the conditions of the nunner-
ies of that time, we stand even more In awe of Chaucer's ability
In portraiture. At times we may feel ourselves drawn closely
to his Prioress and In the next moment repelled — not by her lack
of standard morals — but by her lack of Imagination and sensl-
tlvlty. Even though she may have carried over some of her out-
ward ornateness from her noble family, as a person she lacks
color and vividness. This again seems to be what the poet
wishes us to see and feel.
Our Prioress Is of the Benedictine nunnery of St. Leonard,

2 About four miles
Stratford at Bow, Bromley of Middlesex County.
east of Stratford at Barking was another Benedictine nunnery,
much richer than St. Leonard's. Elizabeth Chaucy, supposedly a

3
sister or daughter of Chaucer, became a nun at Barking In 1381.
Elizabeth of Halnaut, sister of Queen Phlllppa, was a nun at
St. Leonard's for many years and died there in 1375. This Eliza-
beth was also a sister-in-law of the Countess of Ulster whom
Chaucer served as a page and In whose company he probably travel-
ed to St. Leonard's in 1356. Manly* things that the fact that
Êileen Power, Medieval People , p. 74.

2 See F. A. Oasquet, English Monastic Life , pp. 251-318, for
a listing of all English religious houses.
^Robinson, op . clt . , p. 756.
*Manly, 0£. at., pp. 206ff.
:
55
Elizabeth of Halnaut lived at St. Leonard's throws light on
several problems relating to the Identity of Chaucer's Prioress.
First, there Is the mentioning In her will of Kada-ne Argentyn
as one of the benefactors. Manly considers It very likely that
this could have been "Madame Eglentyne." Another Is the fact

that the presence of Elizabeth In the convent may have kept
alive the desires for the niceties of life which the Prioress
had. Bowden, 1 too, would say that Elizabeth of Halnaut was
responsible for the type of French spoken at Stratford-Bow,
since It Is said about our Prioress that "Prenssh of Parys was
to hire unknowe." 2 Bowden remarks! "Undoubtedly Elizabeth of

Halnaut spoke French with an accent, and her sister nuns, drawn
from the gentry and well-to-do merchant class, would have been
content to copy the great lady." Robinson 3 mentions this point,

but first he says
The Prioress's French was only such as could be

heard In an English nunnery. The comparison with the
"Frenssh of Parys" Is disparaging, for the latter was
standard and had long been recognized as such. Chaucer
can hardly mean that she spoke a dialect that was Just
as good.
Cue of the first points of satire In describing the Prior-
ess is that she was with the group that made the journey to
Canterbury. Such a motley crowd was hardly the place for a

prioress. Too, It had often been decreed that nuns should not
make pilgrimages at all. In 1195 the Council of York decreed!
^Bowden, op. clt ., p. 101.

General Prologue , op . clt ., line 126.
^
3 Roblnson, 0£. clt.,
pp. 754-756.
56
"In order that the opportunity for wandering about may be taken
from them (the nuns) we forbid them to take the road of pilgrim-
age."*- There were many bishops' decrees revealed containing
similar Injunctions. In 1318 Archbishop Kelton decreed that
the nuns of Nunappleton should not leave their house because
of any vow of pilgrimage which they might have taken. For such
a vow taken each nun was to say a psalter for each day that the
pilgrimage would have taken. 2 The bishops' registers have re-
vealed many such things about the nuns that we did not know be-
fore. A prioress with her attendants was allowed to go on ex-
cursions on convent business or was allowed trips in order to
attend ecclesiastical ceremonies, however. This strictness will
perhaps make the modern reader pity the nuns, but no one ever
succeeded into putting into full force all the many regulations
placed upon the nuns, "though the bishops spent over two centur-
ies in trying to do so and were still trying in vain when King
Henry VIII dissolved the nunneries and turned all the nuns out
into the world forever, whether they liked it or not."^
The Prioress's manners indicate her good breeding and train-
ing, but in the following lines we note a few satirical probes ^

as well:
At mete wel ytaught was she with alle:

She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,
lie wette hir fyngres in hir sauce depe;
Wel koude she carle a iorsel and wel kepe
Eileen Power, Medieval English Nunneries , p. 373.

2lMd., pp. 373, 374.
3 Power, Med ieval People, p. 94.
,
57
That no drops no fllle upon hire brest.

In curteisle was set ful muohel hlr lest.
Hlr over-llppe wyped she so olene
That In hlr ooppe ther was no ferthyng sene
Of greoe, whan she dronken hadde hlr draught©.
Ful semely after hlr mete she raughte.
And slkerly she was greet desportj
And ful plesaunt, and amyable of port,
And peyned hire to contrefete cheere
Of court, and to been estatllch of manere,
And to ben holden digne of reverence. 1
The lines concerned with table manners are borrowed directly
from the Koaan de la Rose . However, the satire Is not so much
the borrowing from the romance, for the manners are those of
polite society, but from the particular setting from which they
are taken. "For this la part of the account given by the Beldam,
La Vlellle, of the wiles a woman uses to attract and hold a
lover." 2
Coupled with her bearing and manners are her physical
characteristics, which are also points stressed about "my lady"
of the romances.
Hlr nose tretys, hlr eyen greye as glas

Hlr mouth ful smal, and therto softe and reed;
And slkerly she hadde a fair forheed;
It was almoost a spanne brood, I trowe.
For hardily, she was nat undergrowe.3
Lowes notes that this Is the description of every heroine of
romance. * "The Prioress's nose and eyes and lips are as attrac-
tive as our favorite partner of the dance." 5 Then, her forehead,
1 General Prologue , lines 127-141.

2 Bowden, op_. clt . , pp. 96, 97.
3 General Prologue , llrt<?s 153-156.
*Bowdeu, 0£. clt ., pp. 94, 95.
5 Coulton, Paroraaa,
p. 276.
53
which should have been covered In the presence of the company,
Is beautifully broad. "Medieval standards of beauty called for

1
large, broad, and unwrlnkled foreheads." In light of all the
evidence and further description of the Prioress It does not
aeem likely that Chaucer Intended to mean, as Coulton 2 Indi-
cates: "'But slkerly she had a fair forheed 1

; there comes the
crowning glory of her features, and It lifts us to a higher
plane; she has charmed us as a woman, and now she Impresses us
with her Intellect." Miss Power's 3 explanation seems to be more
what Chaucer Intends:
The nuns were supposed to wear their veils pinned

tightly down to their" eyebrows , so that their foreheads
were completely hidden; but blgta foreheads happened to
be fashionable among worldly ladles, who even shaved
theirs to make them higher, and the result was that the
nuns could not resist lifting up and spreading out
their veil3, for how otherwise did Chaucer know that
Madame Eglentyne had such a fair forehead ("almost a
spanne brood, I trowe")? If she had been wearing her
veil properly, it would have been invisible, and the
father of English poetry may be observed discreetly but
plainly winking the other eye when he puts in that little
touch; his contemporaries would see the point very
quickly.
The main factor of the satire lies in endowing a nun with the
physical characteristics oi the "fascinating worldly heroine."
The satire here might, however, be double-edged; there could
also be an "Implied satiric comment on the romances."* Anyway
Chaucer uses some restraint in listing the physical attributes
of the Prioress. It was customary among the conventions of the
^TBowden, loc. cit

^Coulton, loc . clt .
3 Power, Medieva l People , p. 90.
4 Bowden, op_. eft., p. 95,
2
59
romance to give a full "anatomical catalogue" of the lady's
charms. Chaucer contents himself with "she was nat undergrowe."
Certainly the wearing apparel of the Prioress Is worthy of
notice also.
Pul semyly her wympul pynched was ;
Ful fetys was her cloko, as I was war,

Of smal coral about hire arm she bar
A pelre of cedes, gauaed al with grene,
And thereon heng a brooch of gold ful sheens,
On which ther was first write a crowned A,
And after Amor vlnclt omnia , 1
Her wimple Is well-pleated; her cloak Is well-made and handsome.
About her arm she wears a rosary of coral, containing also the
larger beads of green for the Paternosters. 3 From this rosary

hangs a broach of shining gold which Is Inscribed with a crown-
ed A and the words "Amor vlnclt omnia." The question which
immediately Is posed concerns the meaning of the word "amor."
Is It the profane love which was originally meant In Virgil's
Eclogues ? Or is It the meaning of sacred love whloh the Church

adopted? The ambiguity of the meanings only adds to the satire
of the entire picture of the Prioress. Lowes* answers the
question as follows:
Now It Is earthly love which conquers all, now

heavenly; the phrase plays back and forth between the
two. And it is precisely that happy ambiguity of the
—
convention itself the result of an earlier transfer which —
makes Chaucer's use of it here. . . a master stroke. Which
of the two loves does "aaior" mean to the Prioress? I do
i Oenoral Prologue , lines 151, 157-162.

2h o"o ins on, ojj, clt », p. 1073.
3 Ibld., p. 706.
^bowden, p_£. clt ., p. 97.
Z)
not know; but I think she thought she meant love celes-
tial.
For more than six tiresome centuries, according to Miss
Power, 1 the registers of the bishops show the waging of "a
holy war against fashion In the cloister," but it was In vain,
for the "nuns mingled freely with secular women" and It was
Impossible to prevent them from adopting their secular habits.
Another phase of this "holy war" against the fashion of
the nuns were the attempts of the bishops to dislodge the
regiments of dogs--and sometimes the monkeys—which the ladles
used to solace their long leisure. 2 Chaucer's Prioress was no

exception.
Of smale houndes hadde that she fedde

With rosted flesah, or milk or wastefc-broed.
But soore wepte she If oon of hem were deed"
Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte.
Manly 4 points out that dispensations might be obtained for the

keeping of dogs by prioresses who were fond of hunting, but the
"smale houndes" which Chaucer's Prioress kept were more likely
Just lap-dogs. The Prioress not only kept the dogs, but she fed
them the very best of food, wastel-breed was a fine wheat bread,
second only to "demelne," the lord's bread. 5 It probably would
never be found on the tables of anyone except the well-to-do.
The roast meat would also be "judged an extravagance by even the
^Power, People , pp. 90ff.

2 G. II. Trevelyan, En glish Social History
, pp. 72, 73.
S General Prologue , lines 146-150.
Warily, 0£. clt., pp. 215, 216.
^Robinson, o_2. clt ., p. 756.
51
moat lenient of fourteenth-century standards." 1
Now let us turn to a consideration of the Prioress's moral
and spiritual character as it Is revealed in her portrait as well
as in the tale which she tells. Still is seen this paradoxical
nature which has already been discussed in her outward appear-
ances and habits. There has been much discussion on "hire
gretteste oath. . . by Seinte Loy." 2 Kittredge' poses the
following question about the oath: "Could there be a sweeter
and more lady-like expletive?" He further adds J "It is soft
and liquid, and above all, it does not distort the lips."
Manly, 4 following Lowes and Ricteert, suggests that the Prioress
swore not only by one who was patron of travelers, but who was
also the most courtly and elegant saint in the calendar, "one
thoroughly representative of the feminine tastes which she
preserved in spite of her devotion to religion." Manly also
tells that the Countess of Pembroke, one of the great ladies
of the day, gave an image of St. Loy to one of the most fashion-
able churches of the day. He concludes: "There may, therefore,
be a larger element of fashion in swearing by St. Loy than we
have suspected." Again we have found that that which should
have been a spiritual concern to the Prioress has been turned
Into a matter of outward appearance.
Then what has Chaucer said about her that might pertain
i
iiowder., o^. elt . , p. 99.
2 general Prologue , line 120.
^Geor^c Lyman Kitti-edê, Chaucer and his Poetry , p. 177.
*Manly, op_. cTt., pp. 2137?!
62
to her character as a spiritual leader? For whom was her
greatest concern in her ministering? Upon a first reading one
thinks he has found something substantial concerning this point
as he reads:
But, for to spelcen of hire conscience,

She was so charitable and so pltous
She wold wepe, . . »*
But what a disappointment at the remainder of the passage:
... if that she saugh a mous

Kaught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.
Then as we remember her devotion to her dogs, we realize for
one of her position such "tendre herte" should primarily o»
directed toward her less fortunate fellow-men.
This implication is later strengthened by her own

Tale in which she tells with perfect blandness of the
tortures visited upon the Jews; and by the fact that
when Chaucer writes of the charity of his Parson, he Is
explicit and clear In pointing out that here Is a man who
follows truly all the teachings of Christianity in loving
his neighbour as himself. For Madame Eglentyne, then,
the poet's "but" Indicates a reservation. Despite her
charm and dignity, she possesses a real Imperfection
not unmarked by the poet who had created her. 3
Can we say then that the Prioress was religious? "Religious?
perhaps; but save for her singing the divine service 'entuned
in her nose ful semely 1

and for her lovely address to the
Virgin at the beginning of her tale, Chaucer can find but little
to say on the point,"*
This brings us then to the Prioress's tale and what may
1
General Prologue , lines 142- 144a.
lines 144b, 145.
ijlbld .,
°Bowden, op_. clt «, pp, 99, 130.
*Power, Nunneries , p. 95.
• .
63
be said about It to characterize her. Since the PrloresB re-
fers to Hugh of Lincoln In her tale,* we have assumed that this
story was at least a foundation for the tale which she tells.
Francis Chi Id, 2 who has collected many English and Scottish
ballads, remarks that "the exquisite tale which Chaucer puts
into the mouth of the Prioress exhibits nearly the same inci-
dents as the ballads'* about Sir Hugh which he has placed In hl»
collection.
Following is a brief summary by Carleton Brown 3 of the
basic versions which form the theme of the Prioress's Tale ;
Group A
1. The boy sings the responsorlum "Guade Maria'1

as he passes daily along a street In which the Jews
dwell and thereby provokes their resentment.
2. He is 8 lain and his body is burled.
3. The boy's mother, in her search for him,
passing by the Jew's door, hears the voice of her
child and, with the assistance of friends and a
crowd of citizens, forces an entrance.
4. The boy Is dug up from the earth alive and
unharmed
5. In consequence of this miracle, the Jew (or
Jews) according to most versions, is converted.
Group B
1. The boy is made a chorister and sings his

song in the regular services of the church.
2. The boy's mother drops out of the story.
3. The guilty Jew (or Jews) after the murder
hears the boy singing as before.
4. The Jew (or Jews) thereupon confesses the
crime before the Christians have learned of it and
in most versions is converted and baptized.
•'
The Prioress's Tale , lines 684-694.
^Francis Child, English and Scottish Ballads , pp. 136ff
3 Carleton Brown, "The Prioress's Tale," Sources and Ana-
logues of Canterbury Tales, pp. 447-451.
64
Group C
1. The song which the boy sings through the

Jewry Is the antlphon "Alma redemptorls mater" accord-
ing to seven versions.
2. The body of the murdered boy Is thrown Into
a "Jakes."
3. The miracle does not end, as In Group A, with
the recovery of the boy's body, but an elaborate funeral
scene follows, during which the corpse continues to sing,
for In Group C, unlike the others, the story ends tragi-
cally.
The Prioress's version Is placed in Group C, the most tragic
of the three. Let us conclude our comments on the tale by say-
ing that this is a rather bloody, tragic tale for one who "wolde
wepe, if that she saugh a mous kaught in a trappe If it were
deed or bledde" or one who "sore wepte she if oon of hem (smale
houndes) were deed, or if men smoot It with yerde smerte."

As we began this section on the Prioress, let us conclude
It by saying that there is little doubt that Chaucer Intended
his readers and audience to see the irony and ambiguity in the
portrait of the Prioress. However, his satire does not come in
direct, harsh condemnation, but in genial suggestlveneas. We
have seen at least three major phases of his satire in this case.
As Chaucer revealed the Prioress as a person we felt the lack of
warmth that would actually attract us. There is also the probe
at the laxness found among the clergy of the day. Then, lastly,
we have seen again the pretensions and ostentations of the upper
classes to which they yet Insist on clinging.
COURTLY LOVE
A subject which has already been mentioned many times In

"
65
relation to the upper classes, but never fully described, la
that of the courtolsle or courtly love. We have become quite
aware of the fact that the principles of courtly love pervade
much of the writing of Chaucer, but can we actually say what
his opinion of it is? By further examination of courtly love
and by presenting illustrations from some of his writing we may
be able to see his attitude toward the subject more clearly.
We have already noted how Interwoven with chivalry was this
formalization of love. This theory of love was first seen in
the south of France as early as the eleventh century. It was
the part of a brilliant society with woman at a supreme place,
with great importance attached to social etiquette and decorum.
To this society belonged the troubadours who expressed in their
poems this theory of courtly love.* The subjeot of their poems
was universally love and Womankind, and a reverence for the
latter, which, though not of a religious character, has still
something In it of the mystic worship of the Virgin. According

to the troubadour, love was the ground of all goodness, of all
excellence in the world. Man without such love was worth no more
than "corn without grain." 2 The courtly love of the Middle Ages
saw love transformed into the woman and man, saw it make up their
will as well as their passion. If the lover could not resist it,
it was because it was "his mightiest self, and not because it was
a compulsion from without; it was his nature, not his disease. 3
*Dodd, 0£. clt ., p. 1.

2 Thomas Wright, Womankind In Western Europe
, pp. 133, 134.
3Henry Osborn Taylor, TTio" M edieval Mind , 1;591.
66
Prom the south of Prance the expression of courtly love
spread Into northern France, largely through the Influence of
Eleanor of Aqultalne, who took a lively Interest In the doctrines
as well as the practices of courtly love. It reached England

1 Her daughter,
with her chivalrous son, Richard Coeur de Lion.
Marie de Champagne, continued and extended the Interest of her
mother. Marie, In turn, Impressed the system on Chretien de
Troles, and he Introduced It Into the romances of the Round Table.
As the system was left by Chretien, so It was to remain. Since
the lover's concern was to abide by the "rules and regulations"
set up by the system, the courtly love literature actually be-
came "devoid of spontaneity and real feeling. Even emotional
experience became stereotyped." 2 It Is the supposition of this
thesis that It Is the artificiality that Chaucer was beginning
to grow weary of, even though he, In many ca3es, seemed to be
"playing the game."

For the "rules and regulations" of this so-called formalized
love, we look to Andreas Capellanus and Oulllaume de Lorrls for
help. Andreas Capellanus worked out quite fully the Jurisprudence
of that courtly system which Is shown In the romance of the Round
Table. What is love? What are its effects? Between whom can
it exist? How is it acquired, retained, augmented, diminished,
terminated? 3 The aim of love, for Andreas, is actual fruition,
and rules out at once the kind of love that might be called
1 Wrlght, 0£. cit., p. 133.

2 Dodd,
££. cit ., pp. 2,3.
3 Ibid., p.
t .
67
Platonic. The lover must be truthful and modest, a good Catho-
lic, clean In his speech, hospitable, and ready to return good
for evil. He must be courageous In war and free with his gifts.
He must at all times be courteous ,^
Out of the new doctrines and system which were formed In
regard to love and the relations between the sexes, came a book
which "Inaugurated a novel phase of erotic thought. "^ This work,
begun before 1240 by Gulllaume de Lorrls, was finished before

1280 by Jean de Meun. The first part of Roman de la Rose by de
Lorrls, which Is an allegory of courtly love, Is of the more
Importance at this point.
The Roman de la Rose, by combining the passionate

character of Its sensuous central theme with all the
elaborate fancy of the system of courtly love, satisfied
the needs of erotic expression of a whole age.
Here, then, In the Roman de la Rose, the sexual
motif Is again placed In the centre of erotic poetry,
but enveloped by symbolism and mystery and presented In
the guise of salntllness. It Is Impossible to Imagine
a more deliberate defiance of the Christian Ideal. . . .
The profusion of allegory satisfied all the requirements
of medieval Imagination.
Now whatever Influence the Roman de la Rose may
have exercised on the minds of men. It did not succeed
In completely destroying the older conception of love.
Side by side with the glorification of seduction pro-
fessed by the Rose, the glorification of the pure and
faithful love of the knight maintained Its ground,
both In lyrical poetry and In the romance of chivalry,
not to STeak of the fantasy of tournaments and passages
of arms •"
Another phase of the procedure of courtly love was the
"courts of love." Since the "act of fealty" between lovers was
1
C. S. Lewis, The Allegory of Love , pp. S3, 34.
2Hulzlnga, op . c 1 . , p . 95
5 lb Id ., pp.~T0O, 101.
68
not looked upon lightly, but as a binding law, then there must
have been frequent cases In which "love 's law" was called Into
question. Thomas Wright 1 clings to the supposition that the
courts were not mere amusement but were the strictest order of
the day. In the courts, he relates, the decision was always
referred to the woman. On one occasion Queen Eleanor Judged
that according to the law of love, love was Incompatible with
marriage. Eleanor also decided upon another occasion that a
woman must "either refuse presents offered her in the name of
love, or reward them, or be degraded in her rank among Womankind."
It seems that men were later allowed to hold offices in the court
and even Richard Coeur de Lion is said to have held the office of
Prince of Love at one time.
Just how seriously did the people of Chaucer's day take
courtly love and the courts of love? Hulzinga 2 says: "It is
very difficult to pierce the clouds of poetry and to penetrate
to the real life of the epoch." Even when attempts were made to
describe an actual love affair with all accuracy, the author
could not "free himself from the aocepted style and technical
conceptions." It has been suggested that the courts of love were
real, but the degree of their seriousness is questionable.
Huiainga tells about one court which was petitioned from the
king "to furnish some distraction during an epidemic of the
plague which raged in Paris, 'to spend part of the time more
^Wright, 0£. clt., pp. 137-141.

z Huizlnga, op_. clt ., p. 109.
69
graciously and In order to find awakening of new Joy.'" We
might conclude that the courts of love seem to be a part of that
"flare of autumnal splendor" of chivalry mentioned earlier.
In commenting upon Chaucer's portrait of the upper classes
in the case of the Knight, Squire, and the Prioress, we have seen
courtly love exemplified in many Instances. We have also detected
a subtle note of satire as we have examined the separate pictures
and tales. It would be impossible in the limited scope of this
thesis to examine each work of Chaucer to determine his attitude
toward the problem at hand. Other than what has already been
said, let it suffice to comment upon the conclusion of the Trol -
lus and the Parliament of Fowls .
The Trollus is begun with the very familiar mask of our
poet in his dedication to the Qod of Love, to sing His praises
and to celebrate His wondrous powers. He does not claim the Ood
of Love as related to his own affairs, but rather that he, the
poet, may be of assistance to those who are Love's servants.
For I, that Sod of Loves servantz serve,

Ke dar to Love, for myn unliklyne3s,
Preyen for speed, al sholde I therfore sterve,
So fer am I from his help in derknesse.
But natheles, if this may don gladnesse
To any lovere, and his cause availle, .
Have he my thonk, and myn thl3 travaille.
The direct purpose of the poem is "the double sorwe of Trollus
to tellen. . . in lovynge, how his aventures fellen from wo to
nele, and after out of Joie." At first Trollus is shown as a
Trollus and Crlseyde , Book I, lines 15-21.

70
scoffer at love. Later he becomes Its most exemplary servant.
He plays the game of courtly love to the death.
The faithful devotion of Trollus Is represented

as the highest of virtues, and the treason of Cresslda
as the most heinous of crimes, still from the point of
view of the chlvalrlc code. Yet we come more and more
to suspect that Trollus was right In his first opinion}
that the principles of the code are somehow unsound;
that the god of love Is not a master whom his servants
can trust. And then, suddenly, at the end of the poem, when
the death of TroLlus has been chronicled, and his soul has
taken flight to the seventh sphere, the great sympathetic
Ironist drops his mask, and we find that he has once more
been studying human life from the point of view of a
ruling passion, and that he has no solution except to
repudiate the uiutc^'al uud unsocial system which he has
pretended to uphold. 1
At first the criticism of the system Is shown as Trollus
himself laughs In contempt at the world and Its frailty.
And down from thennes fast* he gan avyse

This lltel spot of erthe, that with the se
Embraced Is, and fully gan despise
This wrecched world, and held al vanlte
To respect of the pleyn fellclte
That Is In hevene above; and at the laste,
Ther he was slayn, his lokyng down je caste.
And In hymself he lou^h right at the wo

Of hem that wepten for his deth so faste,
And dampned al oure werk that foloweth so
The blynde lust, the which that may nat laste,
And sholden al oure ..erte on heven caste.
And forth he wente, shortly for to telle,
Ther as Mercurye sorted hym to dwelle. 2
Chaucer's final Christian counsel to "yonge, fresshe folkes"
leaves no doubt In one's mind where Chaucer believes tae real
emphasis In life should be placed.
yonge, fresshe folkes, he or she,
Klttredge, op. clt., p. 143.

^Trollus, Book VTTlnes 1314-1327.
71
In which that love up (jroweth with youre age,

Repeyreth horn fro worldly vanyte,
And of youre herte up casteth the visage
To thllke God that after his ymage
You made, and thynketh al nys but a falre
This world, that passeth soone as floures falre.
And loveth hym, the which that right for love

Upon a crols, oure soules for to beye,
First starf, and roos, and sit In hevene above;
For nyl falsen no wight, dar I seye,
That wol his herte al holly on hym leye.
And syn he best to love Is, and most make,
What nedeth feynde loves for to seke?l
"Yet, even after this parting, moving as It Is, and sincerely
expressive of the poet's nature, Chaucer cannot say farewell with-
out turning his Irony upon himself ."2
Lo here, of payens corsod olde rites

Lo here, what alle hire godde3 .nay avallle;
Lo here, thl3e wrecched worldes appetites;
Lo here, the fyn and guerdon for travaille
Of Jove, Appollo, of Mars, of swlch rascalllel
Lo here , the forme of olde clerkls speche
In poetrie, If ye hire bokes seche. 3
Kittredge's^ Interpretation of these lines will serve as a very
adequate conclusion for this section.
Who am I, that I should exhort you to turn aside

from the follies of love and the vanities of human
endeavor? A mere student, poring over my ancient books
and repeating, as so many have done before me, the
wonderful and transitory things that they record; a
versifier, humbly tracing the footsteps of Virgil,
and Ovid, and Homer, and Lucan, and Statlus:-
Lo here, the forme of olde clerkes speche

In poetrye, If ye hlr bokes sechet
As another illustration of Chaucer's criticisms of the
1 Troilus, op_. clt ., lines 1835-1848.

2 Kittrad£e, 0£. clt
., pp. 144, 145.
H'roilua op . clt ., lines 1849-1855.
,
4 Klttredge, o£. clt ., p. 145.
72
courtly love code and practices of his day, the Parliament of
Fowls has been chosen for discussion. It Is well known as a
love-vlaion convention, but this time the poet uses It to serve
another purpose. He uses a council of birds to discuss this very
outstanding "Issue" of his day — the courtly love tradition. We
have earlier noted the lack of the presence of the poet to any
great extent In the poem. Of course, he Is there again to assure
his audience that all he knows about love la what he reads In his
"bokkes." His absenoe may be part of the devioej perhaps he haa
decided that the Issue Is one for the "birds to decide "I
The Parliament of Fowls has been known as one of the most
charming of the occasional poems In the language.'- The question
arises: What occasion? There is little doubt about the allegor-
ical abstractions In the poem, but can there be an Intended
personal allegory In the fonnel and her three suitors? At least
It has given the scholars something to delve Into and consider
through these many years. The suggestion which has found the
most favor and over the longest period of time is the marriage
of King Mohard II (as tiie tercel) and Anne of Bohemia (as the
formal) which took place In 1332. Tatlock 2 In commenting upon
this as a possible solution states;
Not two but three princes have been found who

might correspond to the two rivals of toe noble tercel,
but not suitors simultaneously nor with certainty. It
has also been remarked that It would not be flattering
to Chaucer's sovereign to show him as waiting a year for
^Koblnson, op_. cit. , p. 361.

2 Tatlock, 0£. cTTT,
p. 70.
73
a lady to decide between him and another, of lower rank

at that. There la little force in the suitors in the
poem and in history numbering three; three competitors
or what not are the usual number in story, from the
Three Bears back and forward. All one can say of this
interpretation is that some of these people might have
casually strayed into Chaucer's mind as he wrote, but
there is no proving of it.
Many other suggestions have been offered, some of which will be
listed here, but with the same conclusion that Tatlock came to,
that "there is no proving it." Lancaster's plans for the marriage
of his daughter Phlllppa, or even Chaucer's own marriage as early

1 Another theory
as 1374, have been suggested as applications.
Is that the Parliament represents negotiations, conducted in 1376
and 1377, for the marriage of Richard to the princess Marie of
France, but Marie died suddenly In May, 1377, and the marriage
was never consummated. Certainly the Parliament of r'owls seema
very much an occasional piece, but since the application of
personal allegory cannot be settled, let the occasion mentioned
in the poem itself suffice.
For this was on seynt Valentynes day,

Whan every foul cometh there to chese his make.
Of every kynde that men thynke may,
And that so huge a noy3e gan they make
That erthe, and eyr, and tre , and every lake
So ful was, that unet'ne was there space
For me to stonde, so ful was al the place.
And right as Aleyn, in the Pleynt of Kynde,

Devyseth Nature of aray and face,
In swlch aray men myghte hire there fynde.
This noble emperesse, ful of grace,
Bad every foul to take his owne place,
Aa taey were woned alwey fro yer to yeere,
Seynt Valentynes day, to stonden theere.*
^Robinson, loc. cit.

iwTa, lines 509-S22.
74
After the poet has made it clear that he knows not love at
first hand, he then tells how he had a dream after having read
Somnlum Sciplonls . In the dream Sclplo conducts the poet to a
walled garden. After reading the Inscription at the gate which
warns about the grief and Joys of love, the poet hesitates to
enter, but Sclplo leads him in. In this garden of Love are
found trees, flowers, fountains, singing birds, and Instruments
of music. The poet sees Cupid, Venus, and Prlapus, as well as
many abstract personifications fitting to such a garden. It Is
not until about three hundred lines of Introduction have rolled
along that Chaucer comes into the part of the poem which is more
truly Chaucer and with which we are more vitally concerned at
this point. It is St. Valentine's day and the hierarchy of birds
have met to choose their mates.
This Is to seyn, the f oales of ravyna

•Veere hyest set, and thanne the foules smale
That eten, as hem Nature wolde enclyne,
As worm or thyng of which I telle no tale;
And water-foul sat lowest la the dale;
But foul that lyveth by sed sat on the grene,
And that so fele that wonder was to aene.l
Over this congregation of birds reigns the goddess Nature, who
"held on hire bond a formel egle." 2 The formel eagle is endowed
with all the characteristics that the lady of the courtolsle
should have — "Shap, the gentllleste," "The most bsnygne and
goodliest," and such "vertu" that Nature "ofte hire bek to kysse."
Nature makes it clear who is to have first choice of mates.
^Parliament , lines 323-329.

s Ijld.,lfne 372.
75
The tercel eglo, as that ye knowe wel,

The foul royal, above you In degre.
He ahall first chese and speken In his gyse. 1
Of course, we have already known that the formel eagle would be
his choice. The tercel, too, Is the conventional lover — "wyse,"
"worthl," "secre, trewe as stel." His plea also Is that of the
conventional plea of the courtly lover. He chooses the formel
eagle, not as his mate, but as his "soverayn lady," whom he will
always serve. He beseeches her for mercy and grace, for he will
die If she does not accept him soon. If he ever Is found to be
unfaithful, he Is willing to submit himself to be torn to pieces
by all the other fowls. He Is sure that none loves her as well
as he; therefore, she should have mercy on him.
Before the formel eagle has time to recover from her abash-
ment, "another tersel spak anon of lower kynde." In the proposal
of this eagle Is noted a great contrast to that of the first
tercel. There Is not the extreme courtliness, yet his plea is
not without courtly sentiment. He Is sure that he loves her as
much as the first tercel does, and he has served her longer. He
feels that the reward should go to him on this merit. This eagle
Is willing to submit to hanging If he should be found false.
It Is not enough to have a "Palanon" and an "Arclte" In this
plea for the lady's love; there Is yet a third lover. This one
Is even mora business-like and to the point than the second. He
does not boast of long servitude to the lady, but he feels that
1
Ibld., lines 333, 334, 399.
76
he has done more loving In six months "than some man doth that
hath served ful yoore." Ke feels that his greatest qualification
Is that he is "hire treweste man."
"Eavlng thus set forth the question In the elegant and grace-
ful plea of the royal tercel and the mingled courtly and practical
observation," Chaucer goes ahead to give the views of the lower
order of society who have by this time become weary of the long
debate. 1 It Is actually at this point that we begin to feel very
strongly his criticism of the courtly love practices, yet it is
through the lower order of the birds that we feel this; the poet
is yet too subtle to commit himself so openly.

The noyse of foules for to ben delyvared
So loud rong, "Have don, and lat us wendet"
That wel wende I the wodde hadde al toshyvered.
Whan shal youre cursede pleytyn,je have an ende?
For ye or nay, wlthouten any preve?"
The goos seyde, "Al this nys nat worth a flyeJ" 2
Nature's next decision was that each order of fowls should choose
a spokesman to discuss the problem at hand. The "foules of
ravyne," who had first choice, ohOBe the "tercelet of the falcoun
to dlffyne al here sentence." His Judgment is such as would be
expected from the "nobility."
"Me wolde thynke how that the worthleste

Of knyghthod, and longest had used It,
Most of estat, of blod the gentilleste
Were slttyngest for hire, if that hlr leste;
And of these three she sot hlreself, I trone.
Which that he be, for it is light to knowel" 3
Dodd, 03. clt., p. 125.

" ParllaiaentTTines 491-497,
501.
5 Ibid ., lines 443-453.
77
He has previously suggested that argument would do no good and
that the best solution would be battle. The water-f owls are
represented by the goose, who unsentimentally aays:
"But she wol love hyu, lat hym love another."
This point of view is certainly opposed to the code of courtly
love I The representative of the worm-eating group, the cuckoo,
goes even further:
"So I," quod he, "may have my make in pes,

I rech nat how longe that ye stryve.
Lat each of hem be soleyn al here lyvel"*
Yet there has been one dissenting voice among the "lower classes.'
The turtle-dove, representing the seed-eating group, says:

3
"Yit lat hym serve hire, til he be ded."
But the duck considers this a good Jest:
"That men shulda loven alwey causeles.,

Who can a resoun f.nde or wit in that?
Daunseth he murye that is myrtheles.?
Who shulde recche of that is reeheles?
4
There been mo sterres, God wot, than a payrel"
This gets a rebuff from the "gentll tercelet":

5
"Out of the dungb.il cam that word ful right!"
"It is clear, then, that with the scoffing of the duck at the
idea of constancy In love, and the contemptuous retort of the
tercelet, the debate reaches its climax."
l
H>U .ilines 491-497, 501
S ToTd ., lines 605-607.
Olbld . , line 565.
4TbTd~ ., lines 590-593, 595.
2JJT3., line 597.
"Dodd, 0£. clt ., p. 187.
73
After the debate has gone on long enough, Nature leaves
the decision up to the formel. The fornel asks for a year In
which to make her decision. With this, Nature gives the other
fowls their mates and they go on their way with much joy and
bliss. We are left to wonder what the formel's decision will be
In another year.
Even though there Is disagreement as to what extent Chaucer
has Intended his social criticism In the Parllaaent of Fowls ,
there Is little doubt In the minds of most that he has used once
again the Instrument of satire to comment on an Institution of
his day. Perhaps this Is the reasoning of a "modern" mind, but
It seems from Chaucer's habit of uslnr humor to highlight his
major points, that the birds of the "bourgeosle" and "villein"
classes certainly receive the nore favorable light. Somehow we
think of them as feathered versions of the Miller and the Wife
of 3a th.
THE CLEKOOf
We have already seen that the clergy of the illddle Ages
was generally placed In the upper reaches of society and, there-
fore, will be due for consideration In this phase of Chaucer's
social criticism. We have noted that the Prioress may very
likely have been of the nobility. It lias certainly been evi-

denced from her manners and habits that she followed the way of
this class. There were other merabers of Chaucer's category of
clergy that could have been of "noble blood." Certainly the

Monk may well have been.
79
Chaucer presents his sampling of the clergy in the Canter-
bur? Talos with graduated probes of 3atlre. The Prioress with
gentle satire directed at her affectations and laxness In "pri-
mary devotion" has been presented earlier. Next we find the
Honk who "heeld after the newe world," jet basically nothing
negative Is said relating to his morals. The Friar is presented
as being much more doubtful in character. The Clerk of Oxford,
though not of the preaching clergy, still is responsible to the
church for his "lerynge." He Is treated by Chaucer in a kindly
light. Then comes the very friendly sketch of the poor Parson.
These two serve as a relief between Chaucer's more harsh por-
trayals of the other four male members of the clergy. Chaucer
paints his picture of the clergy rather clearly, and there Is
not much question as to how he felt, lie says so rather vividly,
not in moralizing denunciation, but by drawing the lines snarp
and clear. Since his opinion on this group is rattier plain and
since critics are fairly well agreed as to his basic assumptions,
there is no need of going Into each presentation as fully as has
been done with some of the other members of the upper classes.
However, it is felt that without a summary of his criticism of
this group the subject at hand would be Incomplete.
In order to have a background for tne situation from which
Chaucer's Itonk came, let us take a loilc at Trevalyan'sl graphic
illustration of a monastery of that period. It is false to sup-
pose that even If religious houses did distribute alms rather
1 Trevelyan, op.. clt ., pp. 161, 162.

80
liberally that they were popular with their neighbors and tea-
ants, "Monasteries, belti^ corporate bodies, were more conserva-
tive and more tenacious of old rights than ordinary landlords,
lay and clerical." The old manor system, of which the religious
houses were a part, lasted longer on estates belonging to the
religious houses than on those managed by private persons. In

the Peasants' Rising many great abbeys rere attacked by their
serfs. The incident which Trevelyan describes at St. Albans
serves as a good illustration of this point. The serf3 of the
abbey, acting on the success of the rebels in London, had their
friends in the capital to extort from the King a letter to the
Abbot ordering him to grant charters to the "burgesses and good
men" of St. Albans. The Abbot was forced to grant to them what
they wanted, but when the King was relieved of the Kentish re-
bels he went about with hi a army and his chief justice to make
bloody restitution. All the old privileges were restored to the

monks, and the tenants were forced to render service as before.
Fifteen of the leaders were han 6 ed in the sight of those whom
they had wished to liberate. The bodies were not allowed to be
removed. In the monastery there was pious satisfaction. "This,"

says the monk, "was deservedly the foul office of men who usurped
the name of 'citizens' less justly than that of 'hangmen,' as

they were called and became, by this deed incurring eternal ig-
nominy." The monks of St. Albans, Judged out of their own mouths,
knew nothing of Christian love, or even of common humanity, to-
wards their neighbors.
According to Chaucer's description, his own Monk is a very

31
"manly nan" who will probably someday make an Abbot. It Is his
duty to look after the estates of his monastery. He has many
horses In his stables and the one upon which he now rides Is a
"sleek and shining palfrey, as brown as a berry, and probably
one of his hunters," for we have been told that he loves hunting.
To the horse's bridle are attached "Canterbury bell3" which ring
as loud "as dooth the chapel belle," and we suspect that to the
Mpnk they sound Just as sweet. We rapidly see that the Monk does
not care for the old ways, but "heeld after the newe world the
space." One of the "old rules" which he certainly breaks Is that
of claustratlon.2 He thought the text which says the monk out
of his cloister Is like a fish out of water was "nat worth an
oystre." Why should he study and drive himself mad or "swynken
with handes as Austyn bit". Let "Austyn" do It himself I
.Yhen It comes to Chaucer's satire on the dress of the Monk,
Jus sera ud says that It is well justified. The Council of London
In 1342, Jusserand says, reproaches the religious with wearing
clothing "fit rather for knights than for the clerks." Then we
automatically turn to look at our Knight who Is so plainly
dressed at this time . The Monk's sleeves were edged with fur,
the "fyneste of a lond," and to fasten his hood under his chin
he has chosen a beautiful love-knot of gold. "The Monk's boots
are highly inappropriate to hi3 calling and are a sign of sin-
ful worldllaess; soft, unwriukled ("soupla") boots were expensive
1
fBowden, op. cit ., p. 111.
g C oul ton .""Panorama p. 269.
,
32
and only for the gentlemen at court. 11
We are not astonished to find that the Monk Is "a lord ful
fat and In good point," that his large rolling eyes glitter like
a flaming furnace, for he Indeed Is a "fair prelaat." He cer-
tainly does not fit our customary picture of a gaunt ascetic
("not pale as a forpyned goost"), for he loves good eating,
especially a roasted fat swan.
The Monk la called upon to tell hl3 tale following the Knight,
but the drunken Miller rudely Interrupts, but "this worthy Monk
took al In paclence." When he does get around to telling his
tale, he tells several "In the manner of tragedle, the harm of
hem that stoode In heigh degree, and fellen so that ther nas no
remedle to brynge hem out of hir adversltee." 2 The likewise
"worthy" Knl^t finally calls a halt to so much "hevyne3se" thu»
leaving with us a pioture of a very worldly Jonk, but yet at "the
bottom he seoms to have been a good fellow enough, with a certain
real dignity of cnaracter.""'
Projected against the ideals of the great St. Francis,
Chaucer's Friar falls far short of his original calling. The
earliest hule of St. Francis was encompassed in three brief sen-
tences. 4 "If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell all that thou hast
and give to the poor"; "Take nothing for your Journey"; and "Lf
any man will come after me, let aim dcij himself, take up his
1 Bowden, op.
cit., p. 114.
2 Monk's lata , "Tine s 1991-1994.
3 Coulton, Cnaucer and nlB England
, p. 148.
*Bowden, 02. elt . , p. 181.
.
as
cross and follow me ." Let us see how well Chaucer's Friar follow-
ed these principles.
"Sell all that thou hast and £,ive to the poor." Rather,
our Friar took from the poor and did all he could to win the
favor of the wealthier people.
Ful wel biloved and famuller was he

With Frankeleyns over al In his countree.
And eek with worthy woaraen of the toun;
Ee knew the tavernes wel In every toun

And everlch hostller and tappestere
Bet than a lazar or a beg£estere
For unto swlch a worthy man as he
Acorded nat, us by his fucultie
To have with slke lazars aqueyntaunce
It Is nat honest, It may not avaunce.
For to deelen with no swlch ooraille
•••••••••«•«•••
But al with rlche and sellere3 of vitallle
.
For thogh a wydwe hadde no^t a sho

So plesaunt was his "In princlpio,"
Yet wolde he have a ferthyng, er he vrente. 1
"Take nothing for your jouruey." When we consider this

commandment in relation to the Friar, we see ironical satire
In fullness, for
His typet was ay faraed ful of knyves

And pynnees , for yeven faire wyves .2
His apparel Is hardly what should be worn by a friar:
For ther he was nat lyk a cloys terer

With a thredbare cope, as Is a povre scoler,
But he was lyk a malster or a pope
Of double wor3tede was his semycope,
That rounded as a belle out of the presse.
"Let him deny himself , take up his cross and follow me."
^General jPi_olO£U6, llnea 215-217; 240-243; 253-255.

2JEI3TJ lines kioo, 2oi.
3 Ibid. , lines 259-263.
. . : ;
84
Even though this commandment may have several Interpretations,
at least all would agree on its general meaning of self -denial
and devotion to Christ. This would certainly Include the emphasis
upon the spiritual rather than the worldly, but we previously
have seen how grasping the Friar is. Another area in which the
Friar has not denied himself Is that of sex.
He hadde maad ful many a marlage

Of yonge wommen at his owene cost. 1
Robinson reads tnis tnus: 2 "iie found husbands, and perhaps
dowries, for women whom he had himself seduced." Already we have
mentioned the gifts which he has for the wives whom he visited.
"Simple country women were easily bemused by these glittering
gifts from friars, especially if the giver possessed such fascin-
ating accomplishments as did Brother Hubert. 1

'
Some of these
accomplishments may be seen in the following lines:
And certelnly he hadde a muryo note.

'A'el koude he synge and pleyen on a rote
Of yeddynges he baar outre ly the prls
His nekke whit was as the flour-de-lys
TLertc he strong was as a champioun.
Curtcis he was and lowely of servyse

Ther nas no man nowher so vertuous
Somwhat he lipsed, for his wantownesse

To make his Sngllssh sweats upon his tonge
And in his harpynj, when that he hadde songe,
Ills eyen twyr.kled in his heed aryght,
As doon the s terras in the frosty nyght.*
Another detail which gives us insight into the character of
lipid., lines 212, 213.

2 hobinson, op_. clt ., p. 758.
3 Bowden, 0£. clt . , p. 126.
4 general Prologue, lines 235-239; 251, 252} 264-268.
85
the Friar la his relations with the Summoner on the pilgrimage.
The Friar and the Summoner are old enemies 5 "their quarrel is
the quarrel of their profession." 1 Since the Summoner belonged
to the organization of the secular clergy, including parish
priests, archdeacons, and bishops, and since the Friar of a men-
dicant order belonged to a religious clergy of a world-wide
organization holding direct authority from the Pope, their juris-
diction often conflicted. Since we have been told in the case
of the Friar that "rage he could, as It were right a whelp," and
since the "fyr-reed oherublnes face" of the Summoner indicated a
"warm" disposition, we certainly are not surprised to find trouble
flaring up between them. At the end of the Wife of Bath's long
preamble, when the Friar laughs rather rudely at her, the quarrel
between the Summoner and the Friar breaks out again. Each prom-
ised to tell a tale that will be deprecatory to the other's pro-
fession. When the Wife of Bath completes her tale, the Friar la
quick to begin his tale against the Summoner, which, as we can
guess, certainly is not complimentary. All in all, we are left
feeling that there has been nothing in the tale of the Friar to
redeem his character from what has already been said about him in
the General Prologue .
One of the most favorable sketches which Chaucer gives ua v
from his pilgrims to Canterbury Is the Clerk of Oxford. Robin-

son 1 says that the term clerk could be applied to any ecclesias-
tical student as well as to a man In holy orders. He is still
Robinson, op_. clt «, p. 759.

. .
86
studying, perhaps In preparation for his Master's degree. "He
hadde geten hym yet no benefice." He must be at least in a
minor order to be a candidate for the benefice he had not yet
obtained
He evidently is a tutor for some of the other students at
school, since we are told that he also "gladly teche." Rashdall 2
says that this was a common practice for older students to do
tutoring, receiving some money from the students as well as an
additional allowance from the college funds. We are told speci-
fically that
Al that he myghte of his freendes hente,

On bookes and on lernynge he it spente,
And blslly gan for the soules preye
On hem that yaf hym wherwith to scoleye. 3
Nothing derogatory is said concerning the clerk. He is shown v
clearly as one who "gladly wolde lerne" and
For hym was levere have at his beddes heed

Twenty bookes, clad in blak or reed
Of Aristotle and his philosophic
Than robes wlche, or flthele, or gay sautrie. 4
In fact, his appearance, too, is about what we would expect.
As leene was his hors as is a rake,

And he was nat right fat, I undertake,
But looked holwe, and thereto sobrely,
Ful thredbare was his overeste courtepy. 5
His speech is also in character.
Koght o word spak he moore than was neede,
„Bowden, op. clt., p. 155.

* Ibid ., p. 1557"
3 General Prologue, lines 299-302.
4Ti; id., lines 293-296
-
STjId ., lines 287-290.
And that was seyd In forma and reverence,
And short and quyk and ful of hy sentence
1
Sownynge In moral vertu was his speche.
Another Interesting revelation concerning the Clerk comes

he later v
In his relation with the Wife of Bath and the tale which
tells. The Wife Insults the Clerk when she says:

2
Therefore no wommen of no clerk Is preysed.
Furthermore, she has already related In her prologue how she has
married a clerk from Oxford and had finally reduced him to "shame-
ful subjection." From many of the Pilgrims on Canterbury road
she would have received an Immediate rebuke, but not from our f
Clerk: he rides quietly along and bides his time. He even allows
others to tell their tales and waits until the following day
when the Host prevails upon him to tell a tale "so pleyn. . .
that we may under stande what ye seye." He tells one that they
can well understand, and before long they realize that It has a
double purpose, for he tells about the patient Srlselda, whose
steadfast devotion to her husband stands every trial. In his own
way he Is answering the Wife of Bath; he is not only presenting ^
a sketch of an Ideal wife, which the Wife of Bath la not, but at
the same time he Is saying that clerks can say something good ,
about women. Then, finally, by giving It Petrarch's interpreta-
tion, from whom he claims to have received the tale In Padua, he
makes a rebuttal from the Wife a near Impossibility. He states
that the story is not necessarily meant for wives to be "Grlseldas,"
j-Ibld ., lines 304-307.

2 The Wife of Bath's Prolo,,ue , line 706.
88
but It teaches that all, both men and women, are to subject <t
themselves to God. By the time he has given his envoy, which
is perhaps "a moclc encomium," "a masterpiece of sustained and
mordant Irony," there Is nothing left for the Wife to say; she
must be thrown completely off her guard.

A most Ideal example of the clergy Is presented In the
Parson. No better summary of a portrait of this Idealization
could be offered than
But Chrlstes loore and his apostles twelve /

He taaghte, but first he folwed It hymselve.^
Chaucer makes It quite clear that he was a brother of the

Plowman, which Indicates that he has come from a very low estate.
He may have come from one of the lower classes, yet our poet has
let his audience know from the beginning of the description that
the Parson Is a "lerned man, a clerk." This Indicates that
probably through great efforts on his own part the Parson has
studied and prepared himself mentally, as well as spiritually,
for his ministry.
He was to be respected In every area into which his ministry
night extend. He always put his "folde" first. He had no part
with absenteeism, which was one of the curses of the English
church of this period.
He sette nat his benefice to hyre

/
And leet his sheep encombred In the myre
And ran to Loudoun unto Seinte Poules
To seken hym a Chaunterle for soules,
^Kittredge, op_. clt ., pp. 253-262.

2 General Prologue
, lines 527, 528.
89
Or with a bretherhed to been withholde;

But dwelte at hoom, and kepte wel his folde,
So that the wolf ne made It nat myscarle;
lie was a shepherde and noght a mercenarle .
The character of the Parson Is consistent throughout the
Journey whenever he Is mentioned as well as In the sermon which
he gives. Two references 2 are made to the Parson as a Lollard, but
these are more than likely In fun-poking rather than In serious-
ness. When the Host calls upon him to tell a tale "for Goddes
bones," the Parson answers: "What eyleth the man, so synfully
to swere?" This Is when the Host says: "I smelle a Lollere In
the wynd." Most authorities now follow Robinson 3 In saying that
the Parson was not Intended to mean Wycllf or one of his follow-
ers.
To be sure, It (the sketch) praises the virtues on

which the Wycllf f Ites laid emphasis and condemns certain
abuses which they were always attacking. . . . Probably
Chaucer would not have described him In Just the terms he
uses If reform had not been In the air. The poet himself
was In Intimate relations, It should also be remembered,
with some of the most Influential patrons of the Lollards.
But the Parson Is not represented as holding some of the
most distinguishing beliefs of the Lollard party. More-
over, Wycllf, who died In 1384, presumably three or four
years before the Prologue was written, was repudiated as
a heretic In his last days.
Root* proposes that In respect to the Host's charges, "one may
readily enough answer that It Is quite In accord with Chaucer's
characteristic humor to have It suggested that the one thoroughly

worthy ecclesiastic In the company Is a heretic." Even when the
1 General Prologue , lines 507-514.

2 apllo,.,ue
of the Man of Law's Tale , lines 1165, 1177.
3 Roblnson, 0£. clt ., p. 765.
4 Root, 0£. clt.,
pp. 287, 288.
;
90
Shlpman interrupts the first attempt of the Parson to tell a tale
"It Is not Lollardy that he Is In a panic about, but a sermon.
He Is eager for mirth and desperately afraid of being bored."
To a modern audience, at least, the Paraon'3 "predlcacioun"
turns out to be lone and dull. It Is a prose sermon on Repent-
ance and the Seven Deadly Sins. However, it is a very appropri-
ate ending to the pilgrimage before the reaching of Canterbury
and, moat of all, maybe it would be an aid
To shewe you the way, in this viage

Of thllke parflt glorious pilgrimage
That hlghte Jerusalem celestial. 2
The next two portraits show Chaucer's satire at its bitter-
est, yet we are left with the impression that as a "faithful
reporter" he is giving us the story straight and only at one time
is he guilty of becoming the "commentator."
"Purs is the ercedekenes he lie," seyde he (the Sumnoner)

But wel I woot he lyed right in dede
Of cursyng oghte ech gilty man him drede
For curs wol slee right as assollyng savith,
And also war hym of a Slgnlf lcavlt .*
The Summoner, or Apparitor, was an officer that cited
delinquents to appear before ecclesiastical courts. 4 In the por-
trait of Chaucer's Summoner there is not much to redeem him from
detestation. His very physical appearance Is repulsive.
That hadde a fyr-reed cherubynnes face.

For saucefleem he was, with eyen narwe .
As hoot he was and lecherous as a sparwe,
1 Kittredge, op_. ,clt .

p. 169.
2 Parson's Prologue lines 49-51.
,
3 General Prologue, linos 659-662.
^hoblnson, op. cTt ., p. 768.
. . ;
91
With scalled browea blake and piled "oerd.

Of his visage children were aferd.
Ther naa quyk-sllver lytarge, ne brymatoon.
Boras, cor ace, ne ollle of tartre noon;
Ne oyneraent that wolde dense and byte,
That hym myghte helpen of his whelkes white,
Kor of the knobbes slttynge on his chokes,
Wei loved he garleek, oynons, and eke lekes,
And for to drynken strong wyn, reed as blood;
Thanne wolde he speke and crle as he were wood. 1
His moral character was no better. Chaucer minces no words
when he delineates this part of the sketch.
He was a gentll harlot and a kynde j
A bettre felawe sholde men noght fynde

He wolde suffre for a quart of wyn
A good felawe to have his concubyn
A twelf month, and excuse hym atte f ulle
Ful prlvely a fynch eek koude he pulle
In daunger hadde he at his owene glse

The yonge glrles of the dloclse,
And knew hlr counsell, and was al hlr reed.*2
The Summoner has picked up a few Latin terms out of some
decree ("No wonder Is, he herde it al the day") which he liked
to show off when he "wel dronken hadde the wyne." He had learned
these words as a jay was taught to say Walter ("Watte") or a
parrot Poll, and "If anyone should question him further, then his
philosophy was all spent. 3 "To complete the picture of a debased
and loud-mouthed Bacchus, the Summoner is crowned with a garland
of flowers and leaves similar to the sign on the end of an 'ale-
stake.'"* He carries a cake for a "bokeleer." This he will
probably consume later with his "garleek, onions, and also lekes"
j; General Prologue, lines 624-636.

£ Ibld ., pp. 647-652
3k ob Ins on, loc . clt .
'Bowden, 0£. clt . , p. 265.
92
with his "strong wyn, reed as blood."«
The tale told by the Summoner may be as repulsive to many
people as was his appearance and character. As has previously
been Indicated It was Intended as a Jibe at the Summoner's
enemy, the Friar. It la the story of a friar who is trying to
trick an ailing man out of a contribution. The actual bequest
proved to be an Insult to the friar. The sermon which the friar
has preached to the ailing Thomas may be considered fair read-
ing, but as a reply to the Friar's sermon It lacks "finesse and
bull's eye aim." However, the Summoner's lack of skill maybe
a sign of skill In Chaucer, "for it is fitting that a Summoner
should be less intelligent than such a Friar as Hubert was."
Yet It may be that the Summoner was trying to put in the mouth
of a friar a sermon "deliberately Ill-constructed." "It may be
a part of the Summoner's satiric Intention to satirize the preach-
ing of Friars as well as the Friars themselves." 1
It is in the portrait of the Pardoner that Chaucer "shows
himself the first and subtlest Ironist in English, for there
are ironies within irony." 2 By this is meant that the basic
meaning is opposite to that expressed In the words used. We find
irony In the actual portrait of the Pardoner and in the tale which
he tells. His so-called sermon is ironical when projected against
that which has been revealed about him in the Prologue . There is
irony within the tale which Illustrates his sermon. All In all.
ôghlll, op. clt., pp. 164, 165.

'ibid.. p.""I6C>:
i>3
as we study the Pardoner we shall find many paradoxes, complex-
ities, and ambiguities which have kept the critics busy through
these many years. At least nearly all are convinced that though
the Summoner Is repulsive and despicable, the Pardoner is "vi-
cious" and was much more to be feared and therefore more to be
hated. A vain hypocrite, he had a "wider field of operation
within the Church and a still deadlier technique." 1
The pardoners were called such because of what they gave,
or quaestores because of what they asked. * Jusserand' has the
following to say about them:
These quaestores. . . as they are officially called,

were, says Boniface XX, speaking at the very time that
the poet wrote his tales, sometimes secular clerics and
sometimes friars, :nost oi them extremely Impudent. They
dispensed with ecclesiastical licences, and went from place
to place delivering speeches, showing their relics and
selling their pardons. It was a lucrative trade and the
competition was great; the success of the authorized
pardoners had caused r crowd of self-appointed ones to
Issue from the school or the priory, or from mere nothing-
ness, greedy, with flittering eyes, as In the 'Canterbury
Tales 2* 'suche glaryng eyghen hadde he as an hare ; true
'
vagabonds, lnfe3ters of the highroads, who having, as

they thought, nothing to fear, boldly carried on their
Imposter's traffic. They overawed their listeners, spoke
loud, and unbound upon earth without scruple all that might
be bound in heaven. liuch profit arose therefrom; Chaucer's
pardoner got a hundred marks a year, which was easy enough
for him, since, having received no authority from anyone,
to no one did he render any accounts, but kept all gains
for himself . In his measured language the Pope tells us
as much as the poet, and It seems as though he would dupli-
cate, line by line, the portrait drawn by the story-teller,
his contemporary.
This well sums up what we are to expect from Chaucer's sketch of
_Loc. cit.
2 t?owden ,
op . cit ., p. 277.
°J_u3serand, op. cit., p. 178.
. ;
94
the Pardoner. However, there have been many speculations over
various points about him which are not brought out In thli
summary. For Instance, his effeminate appearance has caused
var led opinl ons
This Pardoner hadde heer as yelow as wax,

But smothe It heeng as dooth a strike of flex;
By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde,
And therwlth he his shuldres overspradde;
But thynne It law, by colpona oon and oon.
A voys he hadde as sural as hath a goot.

No berd hadde he , ne nevere sholde have
As smothe It was It were late shave.
1
I trowe he were geldyng or a mare.
The opinions have varied from the suggestion that he was simply
a fashionable, fastidious man to the idea that he was a natural
eunuch, castrate, or homosexual. In the light of his own state-
ment: 2 "And have a joly wenche In every toun," and others made
relating to his masculinity, it is hard to decide what Chaucer
meant to say about him. Anyway, there Is plenty of Indication
that a "voys as smal as hath a goot" could not have been used
to make his eloquent sermons; In fact, the Pardoner himself says:
"Lordyngs," quod he, "In chirches when I preche,

I peyne me to han an hauteyn speche,
And rynge it out as round as gooth a belle,
For I kan al but rote that I telle." 3
About all we can conclude Is that he was sexually abnormal, but
one cannot be specific In delineating that abnormality.
Another problem is concerning the extent of the wickedness
^•
General Prologue, lines 675-679; 689-691.
2 Prologue to tne Pard oner a Tale , line 453.
'
5 Pard oner's Prolo/ue, lines 322-332.

95
of the Pardoner. 3»hy does he reveal himself so completely to
the Pllgrltns? Is he human, or Is he devil? Opinions here have
been varied too. Geroald 1 Gives credit for his behavior to
"ale, hlstrlonlsin, and aomnabullsm." Most of all does he place
the blame upon drunkedness, for a "man so de prayed and so Intent
on getting f °r himself every possible oreature comfort would not,
unless his natural Inhibitions were suspended, have stripped
himself naked In mixed company."
The extent of his hypocrisy will always be a shock even to
the less orthodox mind. Some of the more startling illustrations
appear in the following lines t
A vernycle hadde he sowed upon his cappa

His walet lay blforn hym In his lappe
Bretful of pardoun, co'tien from Rome al hoot.
For In his male he hadde a pllwe-beer,

Which that he seyde was Oure Lady veyls
He seyde he hadde a gobet of the seyl
That Saint Peter hadde, whan that he wente
Upon the see, til Jhesu Crist hym hente.
He hadde a oroys of latoun ful of stones,
And In a glas he hadde plgges bones.
But with thlae rellkes, whan that he fond
A povre person dwellynge upon lond,
Upon a day he gat hym moore moneye
Than that the person £at In monthes tweye;
And thus, with feyned flaterye and Japes
He made the person and the peples his apes. 2
Chaucer's description of him is verified in the Pardoner's own
Prologue . He tells all his tricks and then starts preaching to
those on Canterbury road. He even has the audacity after his
so-called sermon to try to sell the "rellkes" and "pardoun" to
Gerould, op. clt . , p. 62.

2 iieneral Prologue , lines 685-687; 694-706.
. .
96
them. Most of all does he needle the Host.
"I rede that oure Hoost here ahal blgynne,

For he la raoost envoluped In synne
Com forth, sire Hoost, and offre first anon,
And thou shalt kisse the re like everyohon,
Ye, for a grotel Unbokele anon thy purs." 1
The burning reply of the Host left the Pardoner so "wrooth" that
he "answerde nat a word." Who but our "worthy Knyght" could have
straightened things out so happily?
"Namoore of this, for it la right ynoughl

Sire Pardoner, be glad and myrle of cheere;
And ye, aire Hoost, that been to me so deere,
I prey yow that ye klsse the Pardoner
And Pardoner, I preye thee, drawe thee near,
And, as we dlden, lat us loughe and pleye."
Anon they kl8te, and ryden for hlr weyl. 2
It Is In the tale Itself that we find the greatest Irony.
It tells of the fate of the three revellers who sally forth to
kill Death, but find death themselves In a heap of gold. The
text of the sermon Is Rad ix riorum est Cupltas , and the Pardoner
considers It an Illustration of the typo of thing which he preaches
from the pulpit. The tale Is a double Irony or an "Irony within
an Irony." First, there Is the Irony of the three rioters, seek-
ing Death In order to kill him, who find him unknowingly, and
are themselves killed by their own native principle, cupidity.
Then the fact that the Pardoner tells such a tale about hla own
"favorite" sin is equally ironical.
It has often been said that he (the Pardoner) is a

lost soul, but he Is more; he la a lost soul peddling a
fake salvation for other souls, as If all salvation were
^ Pardoner's Tale , linos 941-945.

2 Ibld ., lTnes~9li2-968
97
a fake. Like Iago he knows all the right things to

say, and says them for his private ends. The Irony
Is that they are true while he supposes them a mockery :-
For myn entente Is nat "out for to wynne,

And nothyng for oorreocloun of synne.
Though that hlr soules goon a-blakeberyedl 1
CONCLUSION
With this Illustration of Chaucer's satire at work In the
presentation of the Pardoner, we bring to a close this attempt
to show Chaucer's use of satire for social criticism. In the
panel of portraits which has been painted of the clergy we have
noted a graduated line of satire as It started very subtly with
the Prioress and the Monk and proceeded to become more pronounced,
with the exception of the Clerk and the Parson, until It reached '
Its highest point In the sketch of the Pardoner. All the time,
however, we are aware that Chaucer does not say, "I condemn
these people," but rather, "You have seen them. What do you
think?"
Thus It can be said of all Chaucer's criticism, hie forces
upon us no conclusion; he only leads us on to form our own opin-

ions, yet he la there offering suggestions and pointing the way.
He does not sound a trumpet; things are spoken quietly and with-
out fanfare. It Is not until we have been taken In completely
by what he has revealed that we realize that we have become a
party to what he Is doing.
We have found that his comic method has worked. We first
^•Coghlll, 0£. cTt., pp. 160-161.

98
saw It turned Inward upon himself and outward upon the society of
his day. The same measure by which he measures society, he has
dared use to measure himself. We have become aware, too, of the
consistent development of his technique. From his earliest works

to his last we have noted no serious let-down. Characterization,
conversational technique, dramatic and narrative quality, des-
cription, humor —all have improved with writing.
We have found that Chaucer has measured the upper classes
with the yardstick of satire; they were tried and found wanting.
Projected against the transitions of his day they could not
stand the test. Chivalry, with courtly love and all its other
facets, is becoming a thing of the past. The pomp and ostenta-
tion of this institution, to which the upper classes are so
tenaciously clinging must go. It must make way for a more vigor-
ous, practical way of life and type of individual. The clergy,
also, with all its degradation and laxuess, Is becoming In many
ways a hindrance to the people rather than the help it was origin-
ally designed to be. Chaucer is aware oi it all. He has not
viciously condemned, but he ha3 painted society in "full-length
portraits'' with a "discreet lambent f la ie of Irony through the
smiling light." Yet after the display Is ended, the fun is over,
we feel that his admonition to the "yonge, fresshe folkes" Is
what actually counts with Chaucer.
Cazamlan, 0£. clt . , p. 69.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT
The author wishes to express her sincere appreciation for
the assistance which Dr. W. C. Hummel, her major professor,
has given her In the preparation of this thesis, iils many sug-
gestions, genuine interest, and scholarly ability have made the
work on this thesis a pleasure to its author.
Grateful acknowledgment goes also to Professor Charles
Matthews for his generosity in allowing the use of his private
library.
The author wishes also to express her deep gratitude to
her husband, Virgil V. Hinds, and daughters, Vesta and Rebecca,
who have been most patient, helpful, and encouraging during the
writing of this thesis, as well as the completing of the entire
course of study for the degree Master of Science.

j
100
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Company Inc • , 1952
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101
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— .
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SATIRE AS AS ASPECT OF CHAUCER'S SOCIAL CRITICISM
Cleatus Wilson Hinds
A. B., Phillips University, 1936
AN ABSTRACT OF A THESIS
submitted In partial fulfillment of the
requirements for the degree
MASTER OF SCIENCE
Department of English
KANSAS STATE COLLEGE

OF AGRICULTURE AKD APPLIED SCIENCE
1956
Chaucer's ability to depict a wide range of Medieval
society has long been recognised. His subject natter Is con-
cerned with the Institutions, traditions, Ideals, and the every-
day realities of this society. The vividness of portrayal is
a result of a very skilled and consistent technique. The mod-
ernity of his technique In revealing society astonishes ua.
Perhaps the greatest phase of his technique is that of
humor. It is a sly, quiet, roguish humor; nothing that would
make the reader burst Into loud laughter; neither la it gro-
tesque or exaggerated. Often It is so subtle that one needs
to be on his guard lest he miss it. The humor is Interwoven
*lth satire which he directs In variant degrees at the society
and traditions of his day. The basic purpose of this thesis
is to show that Chaucer used this Instrument of satire to show
his awareness of the decadence of the institutions and traditions
of the upper classes.
A definition of Chaucer's satire has been made by comparing
it with the satire of a few other leading satirists — some before
Chaucer, some contemporary with him, and others subsequent to
him. It has been shown that two Koman satirists, Juvenal and
Horace, typify the two classes into which satirists have been
generally placed. Juvenal's style was abusive Invective that
ransacked the language for phrases of scorn. Horace's satire was
more subtle and indirect, graceful and mocking, but never one of
Juvenallan rage. Chaucer followed more closely the tradition of
Horace, while his contemporary, Langland, was a medieval Juvenal.
Others studied in this comparison were Luclan, Swift, and Thurber.

The method used In determining the idea that Chaucer used
satire to criticize the upper classes was to examine the poems,
being careful to examine them in the light of the times in which
they were written. The works of Chaucer's which were investiga-
ted were The Book of the Duchess , The House of Fame , The Parlia -
ment of Fowls , The Legend of Good Women, Trollus and Crlseyde ,
The Canterbury Tales , and The Complaint of Chaucer to His Purse .
First, we saw how Chaucer turned his humor in upon himself In a
pose of self -deprecation. This mask proved to be a consistent
tool from The Book of the Duchess , written about 1369, to The
Complaint of Chaucer to ills Purse , written in 1399 shortly before

his death. The method proved not only to be consistent but it
showed iaproveaent as it progressed. It served to enliven the
reader's attention, and somehow it seemed natural for the poet
next to turn the same subtle humor outward upon his contempo-
raries.
Chaucer lived in an age of great changes and transitions.
He was very much aware of the decadence of some of the outstand-
ing institutions of the Kiddle Ages and he used the instrument
of satire to delineate this decadence and transition. His range

of satire is from the most subtle irony to near Invective, but
never does he force upon his reader a conclusion. As a "simple-
minded" reporter he presents the "news" and allows his audience
to formulate their own opinions. However, his presence is sensed,

offering suggestions and pointing the way.
One of the institutions examined in this study was that of
chivalry and its facet courtly love. Even though Chaucer painted
the Knight and the Squire in The Canterbury Tales as Ideal por-
traits of knighthood when we consider them as Chaucer's own con-
temporaries, we find that they are anachronistic. Chivalry and
courtly love, even though they had both "flared up in autumnal
splendor," were matters of pomp and ostentation only. Chivalry
was decadent; It had to make way for a more vigorous, practical
way of life and type of individual. Perhaps the greatest satiric
portrayal of chivalry and courtly love was found in The Pari lament
of Fowls. As the fowls discussed this courtly matter, the im-
pression was left that the fowls of the lower estates fared much
better in the controversy than those of the upper classes.
Since the clergy has generally been placed In the upper
reaches of society, It too was examined for possible satire. The
source for this investigation was The Canterbury Tales . In the
panel of portraits which was painted of the clergy we noted a
graduated line of satire as It started very subtly with the
Prioress and proceeded to become more pronounced, with the excep-
tion of the Clerk and the Parson, until it reached its highest
point in the sketch of the Pardoner. Chaucer painted the picture
of the clergy, not by moralizing denunciation, but by drawing the
lines sharp and clear.
Thus it was with all Chaucer's social criticism. He does
not cause us to laugh at any particular individual, but rather
to "smile" at a society that will not face up to conditions as
they are. We have seen him as having a genial and courtly air,
but at the same time as having a olear-slghted view of the people,
as well as the traditions of his day. He has a way of opening

a "window upon life" and letting the reader see the person and
events of his own vision.

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SATIRE AS AN ASPECT OF CHAUCER'S SOCIAL CRITICISM

Cleatus Wilson Hinds

A. B., Phillips University, 1936

submitted in partial fulfillment of the

requirements for the degree

KANSAS STATE COLLEGE

CHAUCER'S POSE OF SELF -DEPRECATION 14

The Book of the Duchess 15

The House of Fame 18

The Parliament of Fowls 21

The Legend of good Women 23

The Canterbury '^ales 25

The Complaint of Chaucer to His Purse

THE TEMPER OF THE TIMES 30

CHIVALRY AND THE UPPER CLASSES 37

The Knight and the Squire 39

LITERATURE CITED 100

OTHER REFERENCES 102

Moat students of English literature are familiar with the

great epithet which has been placed upon Chaucer — father of

English poetry. This has been meant as the greatest of compli-

ments, but we find ourselves agreeing with Lowes 1 in that it Is

actually unfortunate. In a way it serves to dismiss him in a

kindly fashion as the worthy but "archaic ancestor of a brilliant

line." Paradoxically, he is actually the very thing that he gave

his "sons" were able to equal or outshine him.

As Chaucer himself was Interested in people of all levels,

so people of all levels can find in Chaucer something that will

interest them. Even in the unsettled seventeenth century, Lady

Anne Clifford, 2 "cultivated but not educated," in her later and

saddened years wrote that she had been comforted by reading

Chaucer: "I was in a pitiable case, having as many troubles as

I have, but when I read in that (Chaucer's works), I scorn and

infuses itself In me."

Chaucer's subject matter and techniques work together to

make his writing so readable. Chaucer astonishes us many times

with his modernity in both areas.

He is so great a poet, his human sympathy Is so

J. L. Lowes, Geoffrey Chaucer , p. 1.

Yet, we realize that such impressions are gained only through

a very skilled and consistent technique. Another realization

tive audience of the twentieth century, nor a Lady Clifford of

the seventeenth, but for an audience of the later fourteenth

Perhaps the greatest phase of his technique which has kept

his works vivid through the years Is that of humor. It is a

burst into loud laughter; neither is it grotesque or exaggerated.

Often it is so subtle that one needs to be on his guard lest he

miss it. ^ This humor is interwoven with satire which he directs

in variant degrees at the society and traditions of his day.

Most of all, for the purpose of this thesis, are we interested

In Chaucer's use of this great technique as he delineates the

traditions and customs of his contemporaries of the upper classes.

By examining his writings, it will be shown that Chaucer's satire

is not necessarily directed at individuals in the upper classes,

but at the traditions and Institutions of a society which they

represent. His mask is that of a "simple-minded" reporter, re-

volved in the moral problems that confront that society. It Is

h*. *. Lawrence, Chaucer and the Canterbury Tale3 , p. 5.

decadence of many of the Ideas to which the upper classes had

long clung. He lived at a time when many changes were being

h. . Lawrence, Chaucer and the Canterbury Tale3 , p. 5.