CHAPTER IIITHE AGE OF CHAUCER

CHAPTER IIITHE AGE OF CHAUCER

Compared with the periods covered by the last two chapters, the period now under review is quite short. It includes the greater part of the reign of Edward III and the long French wars associated with his name; the accession of his grandson Richard II (1377); and the revolution of 1399, the deposition of Richard, and the foundation of the Lancastrian dynasty. From the literary point of view, of greater importance are the social and intellectual movements of the period: the terrible plague called the Black Death, bringing poverty, unrest, and revolt among the peasants, and the growth of the spirit of inquiry, which was strongly critical of the ways of the Church, and found expression in the teachings of Wyclif and the Lollards, and in the stern denunciations of Langland.

1. The Standardizing of English.The period of transition is now nearly over. The English language has shaken down to a kind of average—to the standard of the East Midland speech, the language of the capital city and of the universities. The other dialects, with the exception of the Scottish branch, rapidly melt away from literature, till they become quite exiguous. French and English have amalgamated to form the standard English tongue, which attains to its first full expression in the works of Chaucer.

2.A curious“modern” notebegins to be apparent at this period. There is a sharper spirit of criticism, a more searching interest in man’s affairs, and a less childlike faith in, and a less complacent acceptance of, the establishedorder. The vogue of the romance, though it has by no means gone, is passing, and in Chaucer it is derided. The freshness of the romantic ideal is being superseded by the more acute spirit of the drama, which even at this early time is faintly foreshadowed. Another more modern feature that at once strikes the observer is that the age of anonymity is passing away. Though many of the texts still lack named authors, the greater number of the books can be definitely ascribed. Moreover, we have for the first time a figure of outstanding literary importance, who gives to the age the form and pressure of his genius.

3. Prose.This era sees the foundation of an English prose style. Earlier specimens have been experimental or purely imitative; now, in the works of Mandeville and Malory, we have prose that is both original and individual. The English tongue is now ripe for a prose style. The language is settling to a standard; Latin and French are losing grip as popular prose mediums; and the growing desire for an English Bible exercises a steady pressure in favor of a standard English prose.

4. Scottish Literature.For the first time in our literature, in the person of Barbour (died 1395), Scotland supplies a writer worthy of note. This is only the beginning; for the tradition is handed on to the powerful group of poets who are mentioned in the next chapter.

1. His Life.In many of the documents of the time Chaucer’s name is mentioned with some frequency; and these references, in addition to some remarks he makes regarding himself in the course of his poems, are the sum of what we know about his life. The date of his birth is uncertain, but it is now generally accepted as being 1340. He was born in London, entered the household of the wife of the Duke of Clarence (1357), and saw military service abroad, where he was captured. Next he seems to have entered the royal household, for he is frequently mentioned as the recipient of royal pensions and bounties. WhenRichard II succeeded to the crown (1377) Chaucer was confirmed in his offices and pensions, and shortly afterward (1378) he was sent to Italy on one of his several diplomatic missions. More pecuniary blessings followed; then ensued a period of depression, due probably to the departure to Spain (1387) of his patron John of Gaunt; but his life closed with a revival of his prosperity. He was the first poet to be buried in what is now known as Poets’ Corner in Westminster Abbey.

2. His Poems.The order of Chaucer’s poems cannot be ascertained with certitude, but from internal evidence they can as a rule be approximately dated.

It is now customary to divide the Chaucerian poems into three stages: the French, the Italian, and the English, of which the last is a development of the first two.

(a) The poems of the earliest or French group are closely modeled upon French originals, and the style is clumsy and immature. Of such poems the longest isThe Romaunt of the Rose, a lengthy allegorical poem, written in octosyllabic couplets, and based upon Jean de Meung’sLe Roman de la Rose. This poem, which, though it extends to eight thousand lines, is only a fragment, was once entirely ascribed to Chaucer, but recent research, based upon a scrutiny of Chaucerian style, has decided that only the first part, amounting to seventeen hundred lines, is his work. Other poems of this period includeThe Dethe of the Duchesse, probably his earliest, and dated 1369, the date of the Duchess’s death,The Compleynte unto Pité,Chaucer’s ABC,The Compleynte of Mars,The Compleynte of Faire Anelida, andThe Parlement of Foules. Of these the last is the longest; it has a fine opening, but, as so often happens at this time, the work diffuses into long speeches and descriptions.

(b) The second or Italian stage shows a decided advance upon the first. In the handling of the meters the technical ability is greater, and there is a growing keenness of perception and a greater stretch of originality.Troilus and Cressidais a long poem adapted from Boccaccio. By farthe greater part of the poem is original, and the rhyme royal stanzas, of much dexterity and beauty, abound in excellent lines that often suggest the sonnets of Shakespeare. The poem suffers from the prevailing diffuseness; but the pathos of the story is touched upon with a passionate intensity.

“If no love is, O God, what fele I so?And if love is, what thing and which is he?If love be good, from whennes com’th my wo?If it be wikke, a wonder thinketh meWhen every torment and adversiteThat com’th of him may to me savory thinke;For ay thurste I the more that ich it drinke.“And if that in myn owne lust I brenne,From whennes com’th my wailing and my pleynte?If harm agree me, wher-to pleyne I thenne?I n’ot, ne why unwery that I fainte.O quike deth! O swete harm so queynte!How may of thee in me swich quantite,But if I consente that it be?”

“If no love is, O God, what fele I so?And if love is, what thing and which is he?If love be good, from whennes com’th my wo?If it be wikke, a wonder thinketh meWhen every torment and adversiteThat com’th of him may to me savory thinke;For ay thurste I the more that ich it drinke.“And if that in myn owne lust I brenne,From whennes com’th my wailing and my pleynte?If harm agree me, wher-to pleyne I thenne?I n’ot, ne why unwery that I fainte.O quike deth! O swete harm so queynte!How may of thee in me swich quantite,But if I consente that it be?”

“If no love is, O God, what fele I so?And if love is, what thing and which is he?If love be good, from whennes com’th my wo?If it be wikke, a wonder thinketh meWhen every torment and adversiteThat com’th of him may to me savory thinke;For ay thurste I the more that ich it drinke.

“If no love is, O God, what fele I so?

And if love is, what thing and which is he?

If love be good, from whennes com’th my wo?

If it be wikke, a wonder thinketh me

When every torment and adversite

That com’th of him may to me savory thinke;

For ay thurste I the more that ich it drinke.

“And if that in myn owne lust I brenne,From whennes com’th my wailing and my pleynte?If harm agree me, wher-to pleyne I thenne?I n’ot, ne why unwery that I fainte.O quike deth! O swete harm so queynte!How may of thee in me swich quantite,But if I consente that it be?”

“And if that in myn owne lust I brenne,

From whennes com’th my wailing and my pleynte?

If harm agree me, wher-to pleyne I thenne?

I n’ot, ne why unwery that I fainte.

O quike deth! O swete harm so queynte!

How may of thee in me swich quantite,

But if I consente that it be?”

The Hous of Fame, a shorter poem in octosyllabic couplets, is of the dream-allegory type, as most of Chaucer’s poems of this period are; and it is of special importance because it shows gleams of the genuine Chaucerian humor. In this group is also includedThe Legende of Good Women, in which Chaucer, starting with the intention of telling nineteen affecting tales of virtuous women of antiquity, finishes with eight accomplished and the ninth only begun. After a charming introduction on the daisy, there is some masterly narrative, particularly in the portion dealing with Cleopatra. The meter is the heroic couplet, with which Chaucer was to familiarize us inThe Canterbury Tales.

(c) The third or English group contains work of the greatest individual accomplishment. The achievement of this period isThe Canterbury Tales, though one or two of the separate tales may be of slightly earlier composition. For the general idea of the tales Chaucer may be indebted to Boccaccio, but in nearly every important featurethe work is essentially English. For the purposes of his poem Chaucer draws together twenty-nine pilgrims, including himself. They meet at the Tabard Inn, in Southwark, in order to go on a pilgrimage to the tomb of Thomas à Becket at Canterbury. The twenty-nine are carefully chosen types, of both sexes, and of all ranks, from a knight to a humble plowman; their occupations and personal peculiarities are many and diverse; and, as they are depicted in the masterlyPrologueto the main work, they are interesting, alive, and thoroughly human. At the suggestion of the host of the Tabard, and to relieve the tedium of the journey, each of the pilgrims is to tell two tales on the outward journey, and two on the return. In its entirety the scheme would have resulted in an immense collection of over a hundred tales. But as it happens Chaucer finished only twenty, and left four partly complete. The separate tales are linked with their individual prologues, and with dialogues and scraps of narrative. Even in its incomplete state the work is a small literature in itself, an almost unmeasured abundance and variety of humor and pathos, of narrative and description, and of dialogue and digression. There are two prose tales, Chaucer’s ownTale of MelibœusandThe Parson’s Tale; and nearly all the others are composed in a powerful and versatile species of the heroic couplet.

To this last stage of Chaucer’s work several short poems are ascribed, includingThe Lack of Stedfastnessand the serio-comicCompleynte of Chaucer to his Purse.

There is also mention of a few short early poems, such asOrigines upon the Maudeleyne, which have been lost.

During his lifetime Chaucer built up such a reputation as a poet that many works were at a later date ascribed to him without sufficient evidence. Of this group the best examples areThe Flower and the Leaf, quite an excellent example of the dream-allegory type, andThe Court of Love. It has now been settled that these poems are not truly his.

3. His Prose.The two prose tales cannot be regarded as among Chaucer’s successful efforts. Both of them—thatis,The Tale of MelibœusandThe Parson’s Tale on Penitence—are lifeless in style and full of tedious moralizings. Compared with earlier prose works they nevertheless mark an advance. They have a stronger grasp of sentence-construction, and in vocabulary they are copious and accurate. The other prose works of Chaucer are an early translation of Boëthius, and a treatise, composed for the instruction of his little son Lewis, on the astrolabe, then a popular astronomical instrument.

The following extract is a fair example of his prose:

“Now, sirs,” saith dame Prudence, “sith ye vouche saufe to be gouerned by my counceyll, I will enforme yow how ye shal gouerne yow in chesing of your counceyll. First tofore alle workes ye shall beseche the hyghe God, that he be your counceyll; and shape yow to suche entente that he yeue you counceyll and comforte as Thobye taught his sone. ‘At alle tymes thou shall plese and praye him to dresse thy weyes; and loke that alle thy counceylls be in hym for euermore.’ Saynt James eke saith: ‘Yf ony of yow haue nede of sapience, axe it of God.’ And after that than shall ye take counceyll in yourself, and examyne well your thoughtys of suche thynges as ye thynke that ben beste for your profyt. And than shall ye dryue away from your hertes the thynges that ben contraryous to good counceyl: this is to saye—ire, couetyse, and hastynes.”The Tale of Melibœus

“Now, sirs,” saith dame Prudence, “sith ye vouche saufe to be gouerned by my counceyll, I will enforme yow how ye shal gouerne yow in chesing of your counceyll. First tofore alle workes ye shall beseche the hyghe God, that he be your counceyll; and shape yow to suche entente that he yeue you counceyll and comforte as Thobye taught his sone. ‘At alle tymes thou shall plese and praye him to dresse thy weyes; and loke that alle thy counceylls be in hym for euermore.’ Saynt James eke saith: ‘Yf ony of yow haue nede of sapience, axe it of God.’ And after that than shall ye take counceyll in yourself, and examyne well your thoughtys of suche thynges as ye thynke that ben beste for your profyt. And than shall ye dryue away from your hertes the thynges that ben contraryous to good counceyl: this is to saye—ire, couetyse, and hastynes.”

The Tale of Melibœus

4. Features of his Poetry.(a) The first thing that strikes the eye is theunique positionthat Chaucer’s work occupies in the literature of the age. He is first, with no competitor for hundreds of years to challenge his position. He is, moreover, the forerunner in the race of great literary figures that henceforth, in fairly regular succession, dominate the ages they live in.

(b)His Observation.Among Chaucer’s literary virtues his acute faculty of observation is very prominent. He was a man of the world, mixing freely with all types of mankind; and he used his opportunities to observe the little peculiarities of human nature. He had the seeing eye, the retentive memory, the judgment to select, and the capacity to expound; hence the brilliance of his descriptions, which we shall note in the next paragraph.

(c)His Descriptions.Success in descriptive passages depends on vivacity and skill in presentation, as well as on the judgment shown in the selection of details. Chaucer’s best descriptions, of men, manners, and places, are of the first rank in their beauty, impressiveness, and humor. Even when he follows the common example of the time, as when giving details of conventional spring mornings and flowery gardens, he has a vivacity that makes his poetry unique. Many poets before him had described the break of day, but never with the real inspiration that appears in the following lines:

The bisy larke, messager of day,Salueth in her song the morwe gay,And firy Phœbus riseth up so brighteThat all the orient laugheth with the lighte.The Knight’s Tale

The bisy larke, messager of day,Salueth in her song the morwe gay,And firy Phœbus riseth up so brighteThat all the orient laugheth with the lighte.The Knight’s Tale

The bisy larke, messager of day,Salueth in her song the morwe gay,And firy Phœbus riseth up so brighteThat all the orient laugheth with the lighte.The Knight’s Tale

The bisy larke, messager of day,

Salueth in her song the morwe gay,

And firy Phœbus riseth up so brighte

That all the orient laugheth with the lighte.

The Knight’s Tale

TheProloguecontains ample material to illustrate Chaucer’s power in describing his fellow-men. We shall add an extract to show him in another vein. Observe the selection of detail, the terseness and adequacy of epithet, and the masterly handling of the couplet.

First on the wal was peynted a forest,In which ther dwelleth neither man nor best,With knotty, knarry, barreyne trees oldeOf stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde,In which ther ran a rumbel and a swough,As though a storm sholde bresten every bough;And dounward from an hille, under a bente,Ther stood the temple of Mars armypotente,Wroght al of burned steel, of which the entreeWas long and streit, and gastly for to see.The northern light in at the dores shoon,For wyndowe on the wal ne was ther noonThurgh which men myghten any light discern,The dores were al of adament eterne,Y-clenched overthwart and endelongWith iren tough, and for to make it strong,Every pyler, the temple to sustene,Was tonne greet, of iren bright and shene.The Knight’s Tale

First on the wal was peynted a forest,In which ther dwelleth neither man nor best,With knotty, knarry, barreyne trees oldeOf stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde,In which ther ran a rumbel and a swough,As though a storm sholde bresten every bough;And dounward from an hille, under a bente,Ther stood the temple of Mars armypotente,Wroght al of burned steel, of which the entreeWas long and streit, and gastly for to see.The northern light in at the dores shoon,For wyndowe on the wal ne was ther noonThurgh which men myghten any light discern,The dores were al of adament eterne,Y-clenched overthwart and endelongWith iren tough, and for to make it strong,Every pyler, the temple to sustene,Was tonne greet, of iren bright and shene.The Knight’s Tale

First on the wal was peynted a forest,In which ther dwelleth neither man nor best,With knotty, knarry, barreyne trees oldeOf stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde,In which ther ran a rumbel and a swough,As though a storm sholde bresten every bough;And dounward from an hille, under a bente,Ther stood the temple of Mars armypotente,Wroght al of burned steel, of which the entreeWas long and streit, and gastly for to see.The northern light in at the dores shoon,For wyndowe on the wal ne was ther noonThurgh which men myghten any light discern,The dores were al of adament eterne,Y-clenched overthwart and endelongWith iren tough, and for to make it strong,Every pyler, the temple to sustene,Was tonne greet, of iren bright and shene.The Knight’s Tale

First on the wal was peynted a forest,

In which ther dwelleth neither man nor best,

With knotty, knarry, barreyne trees olde

Of stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde,

In which ther ran a rumbel and a swough,

As though a storm sholde bresten every bough;

And dounward from an hille, under a bente,

Ther stood the temple of Mars armypotente,

Wroght al of burned steel, of which the entree

Was long and streit, and gastly for to see.

The northern light in at the dores shoon,

For wyndowe on the wal ne was ther noon

Thurgh which men myghten any light discern,

The dores were al of adament eterne,

Y-clenched overthwart and endelong

With iren tough, and for to make it strong,

Every pyler, the temple to sustene,

Was tonne greet, of iren bright and shene.

The Knight’s Tale

(d)His Humor and Pathos.In the literature of his time, when so few poets seem to have any perception of the fun in life, the humor of Chaucer is invigorating and delightful. The humor, which steeps nearly all his poetry, has great variety: kindly and patronizing, as in the case of the Clerk of Oxenford; broad and semi-farcical, as in the Wife of Bath; pointedly satirical, as in the Pardoner and the Summoner; or coarse, as happens in the tales of the Miller, the Reeve, and the Pardoner. It is seldom that the satirical intent is wholly lacking, as it is in the case of the Good Parson, but, except in rare cases, the satire is good-humored and well-meant. The prevailing feature of Chaucer’s humor is its urbanity: the man of the world’s kindly tolerance of the weaknesses of his erring fellow-mortals.

Chaucer lays less emphasis on pathos, but it is not overlooked. In the poetry of Chaucer the sentiment is humane and unforced. We have excellent examples of pathos in the tale of the Prioress and inThe Legende of Good Women.

We give a short extract from the long conversation between Chaucer and the eagle (“with fethres all of gold”) which carried him off to the House of Fame. The bird, with its cool acceptance of things, is an appropriate symbol of Chaucer himself in his attitude toward the world.

Thus I longe in his clawes lay,Til at the laste he to me spakIn mannes vois, and seyde, “Awak!And be not so agast, for shame!”And called me tho by my name.And, for I sholde the bet abreyde—Me mette—“Awak,” to me he seyde,Right in the same vois and steveneThat useth oon I coude nevene;And with that vois, soth for to sayn,My minde cam to me agayn;For hit was goodly seyd to me,So nas hit never wont to be....And sayde twyes “Seynte Marie!Thou art noyous for to carie.”...“O god,” thoughte I, “that madest kinde,Shal I non other weyes dye?Wher Ioves wol me stellifye,Or what thing may this signifye?I neither am Enok, nor Elye,Ne Romulus, ne GanymedeThat was y-bore up, as men rede,To hevene with dan Iupiter,And maad the goddes boteler.”

Thus I longe in his clawes lay,Til at the laste he to me spakIn mannes vois, and seyde, “Awak!And be not so agast, for shame!”And called me tho by my name.And, for I sholde the bet abreyde—Me mette—“Awak,” to me he seyde,Right in the same vois and steveneThat useth oon I coude nevene;And with that vois, soth for to sayn,My minde cam to me agayn;For hit was goodly seyd to me,So nas hit never wont to be....And sayde twyes “Seynte Marie!Thou art noyous for to carie.”...“O god,” thoughte I, “that madest kinde,Shal I non other weyes dye?Wher Ioves wol me stellifye,Or what thing may this signifye?I neither am Enok, nor Elye,Ne Romulus, ne GanymedeThat was y-bore up, as men rede,To hevene with dan Iupiter,And maad the goddes boteler.”

Thus I longe in his clawes lay,Til at the laste he to me spakIn mannes vois, and seyde, “Awak!And be not so agast, for shame!”And called me tho by my name.And, for I sholde the bet abreyde—Me mette—“Awak,” to me he seyde,Right in the same vois and steveneThat useth oon I coude nevene;And with that vois, soth for to sayn,My minde cam to me agayn;For hit was goodly seyd to me,So nas hit never wont to be....And sayde twyes “Seynte Marie!Thou art noyous for to carie.”...“O god,” thoughte I, “that madest kinde,Shal I non other weyes dye?Wher Ioves wol me stellifye,Or what thing may this signifye?I neither am Enok, nor Elye,Ne Romulus, ne GanymedeThat was y-bore up, as men rede,To hevene with dan Iupiter,And maad the goddes boteler.”

Thus I longe in his clawes lay,

Til at the laste he to me spak

In mannes vois, and seyde, “Awak!

And be not so agast, for shame!”

And called me tho by my name.

And, for I sholde the bet abreyde—

Me mette—“Awak,” to me he seyde,

Right in the same vois and stevene

That useth oon I coude nevene;

And with that vois, soth for to sayn,

My minde cam to me agayn;

For hit was goodly seyd to me,

So nas hit never wont to be....

And sayde twyes “Seynte Marie!

Thou art noyous for to carie.”...

“O god,” thoughte I, “that madest kinde,

Shal I non other weyes dye?

Wher Ioves wol me stellifye,

Or what thing may this signifye?

I neither am Enok, nor Elye,

Ne Romulus, ne Ganymede

That was y-bore up, as men rede,

To hevene with dan Iupiter,

And maad the goddes boteler.”

(e)His Narrative Power.As a story-teller Chaucer employs somewhat tortuous methods, but his narrative possesses a curious stealthy speed. His stories, viewed strictly as stories, have most of the weaknesses of his generation: a fondness for long speeches, for pedantic digressions on such subjects as dreams and ethical problems, and for long explanations when none are necessary.Troilus and Cressida, heavy with long speeches, is an example of his prolixity, andThe Knight’s Tale, of baffling complexity and overabundant in detail, reveals his haphazard and dawdling methods; yet both contain many admirable narrative passages. But when he rises above the weaknesses common to the time he is terse, direct, and vivacious. The extract given below will illustrate the briskness with which his story can move.

This sely widwe, and eek hir doghtres two,Herden thise hennes crie and maken wo,And out at dores stirten they anon,And syen the fox toward the grove gon,And bar upon his bak the cok away,And cryden, “Out! Harrow! And weylaway!Ha! Ha! The Fox!” And after hym they ran,And eek with staves many another man;Ran Colle, oure dogge, and Talbot, and GerlandAnd Malkyn, with a dystaf in hir hand;Ran cow and calf, and eek the verray hogges,So were they fered for berkynge of the dogges,And shoutyng of the men and wommen eek;They ronne so hem thoughte hir herte breek.They yolleden, as feendes doon in helle;The dokes cryden, as men wolde hem quelle;The gees, for feere, flowen over the trees;Out of the hyve cam the swarm of bees;So hidous was the noys,a benedicitee!Certes, he Jakke Straw, and his meynee,Ne made never shoutes half so shrille,Whan that they wolden any Flemyng kille,As thilke day was maade upon the fox.The Nun’s Priest’s Tale

This sely widwe, and eek hir doghtres two,Herden thise hennes crie and maken wo,And out at dores stirten they anon,And syen the fox toward the grove gon,And bar upon his bak the cok away,And cryden, “Out! Harrow! And weylaway!Ha! Ha! The Fox!” And after hym they ran,And eek with staves many another man;Ran Colle, oure dogge, and Talbot, and GerlandAnd Malkyn, with a dystaf in hir hand;Ran cow and calf, and eek the verray hogges,So were they fered for berkynge of the dogges,And shoutyng of the men and wommen eek;They ronne so hem thoughte hir herte breek.They yolleden, as feendes doon in helle;The dokes cryden, as men wolde hem quelle;The gees, for feere, flowen over the trees;Out of the hyve cam the swarm of bees;So hidous was the noys,a benedicitee!Certes, he Jakke Straw, and his meynee,Ne made never shoutes half so shrille,Whan that they wolden any Flemyng kille,As thilke day was maade upon the fox.The Nun’s Priest’s Tale

This sely widwe, and eek hir doghtres two,Herden thise hennes crie and maken wo,And out at dores stirten they anon,And syen the fox toward the grove gon,And bar upon his bak the cok away,And cryden, “Out! Harrow! And weylaway!Ha! Ha! The Fox!” And after hym they ran,And eek with staves many another man;Ran Colle, oure dogge, and Talbot, and GerlandAnd Malkyn, with a dystaf in hir hand;Ran cow and calf, and eek the verray hogges,So were they fered for berkynge of the dogges,And shoutyng of the men and wommen eek;They ronne so hem thoughte hir herte breek.They yolleden, as feendes doon in helle;The dokes cryden, as men wolde hem quelle;The gees, for feere, flowen over the trees;Out of the hyve cam the swarm of bees;So hidous was the noys,a benedicitee!Certes, he Jakke Straw, and his meynee,Ne made never shoutes half so shrille,Whan that they wolden any Flemyng kille,As thilke day was maade upon the fox.The Nun’s Priest’s Tale

This sely widwe, and eek hir doghtres two,

Herden thise hennes crie and maken wo,

And out at dores stirten they anon,

And syen the fox toward the grove gon,

And bar upon his bak the cok away,

And cryden, “Out! Harrow! And weylaway!

Ha! Ha! The Fox!” And after hym they ran,

And eek with staves many another man;

Ran Colle, oure dogge, and Talbot, and Gerland

And Malkyn, with a dystaf in hir hand;

Ran cow and calf, and eek the verray hogges,

So were they fered for berkynge of the dogges,

And shoutyng of the men and wommen eek;

They ronne so hem thoughte hir herte breek.

They yolleden, as feendes doon in helle;

The dokes cryden, as men wolde hem quelle;

The gees, for feere, flowen over the trees;

Out of the hyve cam the swarm of bees;

So hidous was the noys,a benedicitee!

Certes, he Jakke Straw, and his meynee,

Ne made never shoutes half so shrille,

Whan that they wolden any Flemyng kille,

As thilke day was maade upon the fox.

The Nun’s Priest’s Tale

(f)His Metrical Skill.In the matter of poetical technique English literature owes much to Chaucer. He is not an innovator, for he employs the meters in common use. In his hands, however, they take on new powers. The octosyllabic and heroic couplets, which previously were slack and inartistic measures, now acquire a new strength, suppleness, and melody. Chaucer, who is no great lyrical poet, takes little interest in the more complicated meters common in the lyric; but in some of his shorter poems he shows a skill that is as good as the very best apparent in the contemporary poems.

(g)Summary.We may summarize Chaucer’s achievement by saying that he is the earliest of the great moderns. In comparison with the poets of his own time, and with those of the succeeding century, the advance he makes is almost startling. For example, Manning, Hampole, and the romancers are of another age and of another way of thinking from ours; but, apart from the superficial archaisms of spelling, the modern reader finds in Chaucer something closely akin. All the Chaucerian features help to create this modern atmosphere: the shrewd and placidly humorous observation, the wide humanity, the quick aptness of phrase, the dexterous touch upon the meter, and, above all, the fresh and formativespirit—the genius turning dross into gold. Chaucer is indeed a genius; he stands alone, and for nearly two hundred years none dare claim equality with him.

1. William Langland, orLangley (1332–1400), is one of the early writers with whom modern research has dealt adversely. All we know about him appears on the manuscripts of his poem, or is based upon the remarks he makesregarding himself in the course of the poem. This poem, the full title of which isThe Vision of William concerning Piers the Plowman, appears in its many manuscripts in three forms, called respectively the A, B, and C texts. The A text is the shortest, being about 2500 lines long; the B is more than 7200 lines; and the C, which is clearly based upon B, is more than 7300 lines. Until quite recently it has always been assumed that the three forms were all the work of Langland; but the latest theory is that the A form is the genuine composition of Langland, whereas both B and C have been composed by a later and inferior poet.

From the personal passages in the poem it appears that the author was born in Shropshire about 1332. The vision in which he saw Piers the Plowman probably took place in 1362.

The poem itself tells of the poet’s vision on the Malvern Hills. In this trance he beholds a fair “feld ful of folk.” The first vision, by subtle and baffling changes, merges into a series of dissolving scenes which deal with the adventures of allegorical beings, human like Do-wel, Do-bet, and Do-betst, or of abstract significance like the Lady Meed, Wit, Study, and Faith. During the many incidents of the poem the virtuous powers generally suffer most, till the advent of Piers the Plowman—the Messianic deliverer—restores the balance to the right side. The underlying motive of the work is to expose the sloth and vice of the Church, and to set on record the struggles and virtues of common folks. Langland’s frequent sketches of homely life are done with sympathy and knowledge, and often suggest the best scenes of Bunyan.

The style has a somber energy, an intense but crabbed seriousness, and an austere simplicity of treatment. The form of the poem is curious. It is a revival of the Old English rhymeless measure, having alliteration as the basis of the line. The lines themselves are fairly uniform in length, and there is the middle pause, with (as a rule) two alliterations in the first half-line and one in the second. Yet in spite of the Old English meter the vocabulary drawsfreely upon the French, to an extent equal to that of Chaucer himself.

We quote the familiar opening lines of the poem. The reader should note the strong rhythm of the lines—which in some cases almost amounts to actual meter—the fairly regular system of alliteration, and the sober undertone of resignation.

In a somer sesun, whan softe was the sonne,I shope me into a shroud, a sheep as I were;In habite of an hermite, unholy of werkes,Wende I wyde in this world, wondres to here.But in a Mayes morwnynge, on Malverne hulles,Me bifel a ferly,[26]a feyric me thouhte;I was wery of wandringe and wente me to resteUnder a brod banke, bi a bourne syde,And as I lay and lened, and loked on the waters,I slumberde on a slepyng; it sownede so murie.

In a somer sesun, whan softe was the sonne,I shope me into a shroud, a sheep as I were;In habite of an hermite, unholy of werkes,Wende I wyde in this world, wondres to here.But in a Mayes morwnynge, on Malverne hulles,Me bifel a ferly,[26]a feyric me thouhte;I was wery of wandringe and wente me to resteUnder a brod banke, bi a bourne syde,And as I lay and lened, and loked on the waters,I slumberde on a slepyng; it sownede so murie.

In a somer sesun, whan softe was the sonne,I shope me into a shroud, a sheep as I were;In habite of an hermite, unholy of werkes,Wende I wyde in this world, wondres to here.But in a Mayes morwnynge, on Malverne hulles,Me bifel a ferly,[26]a feyric me thouhte;I was wery of wandringe and wente me to resteUnder a brod banke, bi a bourne syde,And as I lay and lened, and loked on the waters,I slumberde on a slepyng; it sownede so murie.

In a somer sesun, whan softe was the sonne,

I shope me into a shroud, a sheep as I were;

In habite of an hermite, unholy of werkes,

Wende I wyde in this world, wondres to here.

But in a Mayes morwnynge, on Malverne hulles,

Me bifel a ferly,[26]a feyric me thouhte;

I was wery of wandringe and wente me to reste

Under a brod banke, bi a bourne syde,

And as I lay and lened, and loked on the waters,

I slumberde on a slepyng; it sownede so murie.

2. John Gower, the date of whose birth is uncertain, died in 1408. He was a man of means, and a member of a good Kentish family; he took a fairly active part in the politics and literary activity of the time, and was buried in London.

The three chief works of Gower are noteworthy, for they illustrate the unstable state of contemporary English literature. His first poem,Speculum Meditantis, is written in French, and for a long time was lost, being discovered as late as 1895; the second,Vox Clamantis, is composed in Latin; and the third,Confessio Amantis, is written in English, at the King’s command according to Gower himself. In this last poem we have the conventional allegorical setting, with the disquisition of the seven deadly sins, illustrated by many anecdotes. These anecdotes reveal Gower’s capacity as a story-teller. He has a diffuse and watery style of narrative, but occasionally he is brisk and competent. The meter is the octosyllabic couplet, of great smoothness and fluency.

3. John Barbour (1316–95)is the first of the Scottish poets to claim our attention. He was born in Aberdeenshire, and studied both at Oxford and Paris. His great work isThe Brus(1375), a lengthy poem of twenty books and thirteen thousand lines. The work is really a history of Scotland from the death of Alexander III (1286) till the death of Bruce and the burial of his heart (1332). The heroic theme is the rise of Bruce, and the central incident of the poem is the battle of Bannockburn. The poem, often rudely but pithily expressed, contains much absurd legend and a good deal of inaccuracy, but it is no mean beginning to the long series of Scottish heroic poems. The spirited beginning is often quoted:

A! fredome is a nobill thing!Fredome mayss man to haiif liking!Fredome all solace to man giffis;He levys at ess that frely levys!A noble hart may haiff nane ess,Na ellys nocht that may him pless,Gyffe fredome failzhe: for fre likingIs zharnyt[27]our all othir thing.Na he, that ay hass levyt fre,May nocht knaw weill the propyrte,The angyr, na the wrechyt dome,That is couplyt to foule thyrldome.

A! fredome is a nobill thing!Fredome mayss man to haiif liking!Fredome all solace to man giffis;He levys at ess that frely levys!A noble hart may haiff nane ess,Na ellys nocht that may him pless,Gyffe fredome failzhe: for fre likingIs zharnyt[27]our all othir thing.Na he, that ay hass levyt fre,May nocht knaw weill the propyrte,The angyr, na the wrechyt dome,That is couplyt to foule thyrldome.

A! fredome is a nobill thing!Fredome mayss man to haiif liking!Fredome all solace to man giffis;He levys at ess that frely levys!A noble hart may haiff nane ess,Na ellys nocht that may him pless,Gyffe fredome failzhe: for fre likingIs zharnyt[27]our all othir thing.Na he, that ay hass levyt fre,May nocht knaw weill the propyrte,The angyr, na the wrechyt dome,That is couplyt to foule thyrldome.

A! fredome is a nobill thing!

Fredome mayss man to haiif liking!

Fredome all solace to man giffis;

He levys at ess that frely levys!

A noble hart may haiff nane ess,

Na ellys nocht that may him pless,

Gyffe fredome failzhe: for fre liking

Is zharnyt[27]our all othir thing.

Na he, that ay hass levyt fre,

May nocht knaw weill the propyrte,

The angyr, na the wrechyt dome,

That is couplyt to foule thyrldome.

1. Sir John Mandevilleis the English form of the name ofJehan de Mandeville, who compiled and published a French book of travels between 1357 and 1371. This French work was very popular, and it was translated into several languages, including English. The English version has a preface, in which it is stated that the author was a Sir John Mandeville, a knight, born at St. Albans, who crossed the sea in 1322 and traveled in many strange regions. Much of the personal narrative is invention; nowadays the very existence of Sir John is denied. The realauthor of the book is said to beJehan de Bourgogne, who died at Liège in 1372.

It has now been demonstrated that the so-called “Travels” is a compilation from several popular books of voyages, including those of a Friar Odoric, of an Armenian called Hetoum, and (to a very small extent) of the famous traveler Marco Polo. These, with a few grains of original matter, are ingeniously welded into one of the most charming books of its kind. The travels are full of incredible descriptions and anecdotes, which are set down with delightful faith and eagerness. The style is sweet and clear, with some colloquial touches; and the short narrations freely dispersed through the text, tersely phrased and accurately gauged in length, are rendered with great skill.

We add an example to illustrate this admirable prose style. Observe the brief sentences, many of which begin with “and,” the simple but effective diction, and the straightforward style of narrative.

And zee schull undirstonde that whan men comen to Jerusalem her first pilgrymage is to the chirche of the Holy Sepulcr wher oure Lord was buryed, that is withoute the cytee on the north syde. But it is now enclosed in with the ton wall. And there is a full fair chirche all rownd, and open above, and covered with leed. And on the west syde is a fair tour and an high for belles strongly made. And in the myddes of the chirche is a tabernacle as it wer a lytyll hows, made with a low lityll dore; and that tabernacle is made in maner of a half a compas right curiousely and richely made of gold and azure and othere riche coloures, full nobelyche made. And in the ryght side of that tabernacle is the sepulcre of oure Lord. And the tabernacle is viij fote long and v fote wide, and xj fote in heghte. And it is not longe sithe the sepulcre was all open, that men myghte kisse it and touche it. But for pilgrymes that comen thider peyned hem to breke the ston in peces, or in poudr; therefore the Soudan[28]hath do make a wall aboute the sepulcr that no man may towche it. But in the left syde of the wall of the tabernacle is well the heighte of a man, is a gret ston, to the quantytee of a mannes bed, that was of the holy sepuler, and that ston kissen the pilgrymes that comen thider.In that tabernacle ben no wyndowes, but it is all made light with lampes that hangen befor the sepulcr.

And zee schull undirstonde that whan men comen to Jerusalem her first pilgrymage is to the chirche of the Holy Sepulcr wher oure Lord was buryed, that is withoute the cytee on the north syde. But it is now enclosed in with the ton wall. And there is a full fair chirche all rownd, and open above, and covered with leed. And on the west syde is a fair tour and an high for belles strongly made. And in the myddes of the chirche is a tabernacle as it wer a lytyll hows, made with a low lityll dore; and that tabernacle is made in maner of a half a compas right curiousely and richely made of gold and azure and othere riche coloures, full nobelyche made. And in the ryght side of that tabernacle is the sepulcre of oure Lord. And the tabernacle is viij fote long and v fote wide, and xj fote in heghte. And it is not longe sithe the sepulcre was all open, that men myghte kisse it and touche it. But for pilgrymes that comen thider peyned hem to breke the ston in peces, or in poudr; therefore the Soudan[28]hath do make a wall aboute the sepulcr that no man may towche it. But in the left syde of the wall of the tabernacle is well the heighte of a man, is a gret ston, to the quantytee of a mannes bed, that was of the holy sepuler, and that ston kissen the pilgrymes that comen thider.In that tabernacle ben no wyndowes, but it is all made light with lampes that hangen befor the sepulcr.

2. John Wyclif, orWycliffe (1320–84), was born in Yorkshire about the year 1320. He was educated at Oxford, took holy orders, received the living of Lutteworth in Leicestershire (1374), and took a prominent part in the ecclesiastical feuds of the day. He was strong in his denunciation of the abuses then rampant, and only the influence of his powerful friends saved him from the fate of a heretic. He died peacefully in 1384.

An active controversialist, he wrote many Latin books in support of his revolutionary opinions. In addition, he issued a large number of tracts and pamphlets in English, and carried through an English translation of the Bible. His English style is not polished, but it is vigorous and pointed, with a homely simplicity that makes its appeal both wide and powerful.

3. Sir Thomas Malorymay be included at this point, though his famous work, theMorte d’Arthur, was composed as late as the “ix yere of the reygne of Kyng Edward the furth” (1469). Nearly all we know about Malory is contained in the preface of Caxton, the first printer of the book. Caxton says that the book was written by Sir Thomas Malory “oute of certeyn bookes of frensshe.”

Like the travels of Mandeville, theMorte d’Arthuris a compilation. In the case of Malory’s books, French Arthurian romances are drawn upon to create a prose romance of great length and detail. However diverse the sources are, the book is written with a uniform dignity and fervor that express the very soul and essence of romance. The prose style, never pretentious, is always equal to the demands put upon it, and frequently it has that flash of phrase that is essential to the creation of a literary style. Malory is, in short, our first individual prose stylist.

And on the morn the damsel and he took their leave and thanked the knight, and so departed, and rode on their way until they came to a great forest. And there was a great river and but one passage, and there were ready two knights on the further side tolet them the passage. “What sayest thou,” said the damsel, “wilt thou match yonder knights, or turn again?” “Nay,” said Sir Beaumains, “I will not turn again and they were six more.” And therewithal he rushed into the water, and in the midst of the water, either brake their spears upon other to their hands, and then they drew their swords and smote eagerly at other. And at the last Sir Beaumains smote the other upon the helm that his head stonied, and therewithal he fell down in the water, and there was he drowned. And then he spurred his horse upon the land, where the other knight fell upon him and brake his spear, and so they drew their swords and fought long together. At the last Sir Beaumains clave his helm and his head down to the shoulders: and so he rode unto the damsel, and bade her ride forth on her way.

And on the morn the damsel and he took their leave and thanked the knight, and so departed, and rode on their way until they came to a great forest. And there was a great river and but one passage, and there were ready two knights on the further side tolet them the passage. “What sayest thou,” said the damsel, “wilt thou match yonder knights, or turn again?” “Nay,” said Sir Beaumains, “I will not turn again and they were six more.” And therewithal he rushed into the water, and in the midst of the water, either brake their spears upon other to their hands, and then they drew their swords and smote eagerly at other. And at the last Sir Beaumains smote the other upon the helm that his head stonied, and therewithal he fell down in the water, and there was he drowned. And then he spurred his horse upon the land, where the other knight fell upon him and brake his spear, and so they drew their swords and fought long together. At the last Sir Beaumains clave his helm and his head down to the shoulders: and so he rode unto the damsel, and bade her ride forth on her way.

The Chaucerian age saw a great and significant advance in poetical forms of literature, and a noteworthy one in the domain of prose.

1. Poetry.With regard to poetry, we can observe the various forms separating themselves and straightening out into form and coherence.

(a) Thelyric, chiefly the religious and love-lyric, continues to be written and developed. Chaucer himself contributes very little toward it, but a number of anonymous bards add to the common stock. It is seldom that we can give precise dates to the lyrics of this period; but about this time were composed such exquisite pieces asThe Nut-brown Maid, a curious hybrid between the lyric and the ballad, and the lovely carols of the Church.

(b)The Rise of the Ballad.The origin of the ballad has always been a question in dispute. There is little doubt, however, that ballads began to assume a position of importance at the end of the fourteenth century.

The true ballad-form had several features to make it distinct from the romance: it is commonly plebeian in origin and theme, thus contrasting with the romance, which is aristocratic in these respects; it is short, and treats of one incident, whereas the romance form is cumulative, and can absorb any number of adventures; it is simple in style, and is as a rule composed in the familiar ballad-stanza. Some of the fine balladsbelonging to this time areChevy Chace,Gil Morrice, andSir Patrick Spens. Very old ballads, as can be seen in the case ofChevy Chace, which exists in more than one version, have descended to modern times in a much more polished condition than they were in at first. In their earliest condition they were rude and almost illiterate productions, the compositions of the popular minstrels.

(c)The Rise of the Allegory.This is perhaps the suitable place to note the rise of allegory, which in the age of Chaucer began to affect all the branches of poetry. Even at its best the allegorical method is crude and artificial, but it is a concrete and effective literary device for expounding moral and religious lessons. It appeals with the greatest force to minds which are still unused to abstract thinking; and about the period now under discussion it exactly suited the lay and ecclesiastical mind. Hence we have a flood of poems dealing with Courts of Love, Houses of Fame, Dances of the Seven Deadly Sins, and other symbolical subjects. Especially in the earlier stages of his career, Chaucer himself did not escape the prevailing habit. We shall see that the craze for the allegory was to increase during the next century and later, till it reached its climax inThe Faerie Queene.

(d)Descriptive and Narrative Poems.In this form of poetryThe Canterbury Talesis the outstanding example, but in many passages of Langland and Gower we have specimens of the same class. We have already mentioned some of the weaknesses that are common to the narrative poetry of the day, and which were due partly to lack of practice and partly to reliance upon inferior models: the tantalizing rigmaroles of long speeches and irrelevant episodes, the habit of dragging into the story scientific and religious discussions, and an imperfect sense of proportion in the arrangement of the plot. In the best examples, such as those of Chaucer, there is powerful grip upon the central interest, a shrewd observation and humor, and quite often a brilliant rapidity of narration.

(e) Themetrical romanceis still a popular form, but the great vogue of the last century is on the wane. Among the lower classes it is being supplanted by the ballad; and the growing favor that is being shown to thefabliau—that is, the short French tale, realistic in subject and humorous-satirical in style—is leading to tales of the coarser Chaucer type.

2. Prose.In prose we have the first English travel-book in Mandeville’sTravels; one of the earliest translations of the Bible in Wyclif’s; and, among others, a prose chronicle in the work ofJohn of Trevisa (1326–1412), who issued a prose version of Higden’sPolychronicon. As yet such works are in an undeveloped state, but already some considerable growth is apparent. Prose is increasing both in quantity and in quality, and the rate of increase is accelerating.

1. Poetry.We have already stated that the time of transition and experiment is nearly over. English poetical style has established itself, and the main lines of development have been laid down. For this we are indebted almost entirely to Chaucer.

(a) With regard tometer, it is curious to observe that with increasing practice the tendency is toward simplicity. The extremely complicated stanzas are becoming less common, and rhyme royal and other shorter verses are coming into favor. Along with simplification is a greater suppleness and dexterity. There is less rigidity in the position of the pause, and a greater freedom in the substitution of three-syllabled feet for two-syllabled feet. These features are most strongly developed in the couplet forms. It is this union of simplicity and freedom that is to remain the dominating characteristic of English verse, thus contrasting with the quantitative system of the classical measures and the syllabic nature of the French.

(b) There is an interestingrevival in alliteration. In the true alliterative poem the basis of the line is a systemof repeating sounds, such as was the custom in Old English verse. One of the earliest examples of this type which occurs after the Norman Conquest isWynnere and Wastour(1352), an anonymous poem of no great merit. The tradition is continued in the alliterative romances of the type ofCleannesse; and it attains its climax inPiers Plowman. Though this last poem gained a great popularity it left no important literary descendants. Hence the revival of the ancient system of alliteration remains as an interesting curiosity. In a very short time after Langland, alliteration becomes simply an ornament to meter—sometimes a device of great beauty, but not vital to the metrical scheme.

As regards the actualpoetic dictionof the period, there is a considerable liking shown for ornate French and classical terms. This can be observed in the earlier poems of Chaucer and in theConfessio Amantisof Gower. We have not yet attained to the aureate diction of the succeeding generation, but the temptation to use French terms was too strong to be resisted. Langland, though he draws upon the French Element, writes with much greater simplicity; and the ballads also are composed in a manner quite plain and unadorned.

2. Prose.The state of prose is still too immature to allow of any style beyond the plainest. Wyclif’s, the earliest of the period, is unpolished, though it can be pointed and vigorous. Mandeville’s prose style, though it is devoid of artifices, attains to a certain distinction by reason of its straightforward methods, its short and workmanlike sentences, and a brevity rare in his day. In the case of Malory, who comes some time after the others, we have quite an individual style. It is still unadorned; but it has a distinction of phrase and a decided romantic flavor that make Malory a prose stylist of a high class. His prose is, indeed, a distinct advance upon that of his predecessors.

1. The following series of extracts is intended to show the development of English prose style from Old Englishtimes to those of Malory. The student should write a brief commentary upon the development of the prose, paying attention to vocabulary, sentence-construction, clearness, and brevity.

(3) And for als moche as it is longe tyme passed that ther was no generalle passage ne vyage over the see; and many men desiren for to here speke of the Holy Lond, and han therof gretsolace and comfort; I, John Maundevylle, Knyght alle be it I be not worthi, that was born in Englond, in the town of Seynt Albones, passede the see, the yeer of our LordMCCCXXII, in the day of Seynt Michelle; and hidra to have been longe tyme over the see, and have seyn and gon thorghe manye dyverse londes, and many provynces and kingdomes and iles and have passed thorghout Turkey, Percye, Surrye, Egypt the highe and the lowe, Ermonye, Inde the lasse and the more, and many iles, that ben abouten Inde where dwellen many dyverse folkes and of dyverse maneres and schappes of men, of which I schalle speke more pleynly hereafter.Mandeville,Travels, 1370

(3) And for als moche as it is longe tyme passed that ther was no generalle passage ne vyage over the see; and many men desiren for to here speke of the Holy Lond, and han therof gretsolace and comfort; I, John Maundevylle, Knyght alle be it I be not worthi, that was born in Englond, in the town of Seynt Albones, passede the see, the yeer of our LordMCCCXXII, in the day of Seynt Michelle; and hidra to have been longe tyme over the see, and have seyn and gon thorghe manye dyverse londes, and many provynces and kingdomes and iles and have passed thorghout Turkey, Percye, Surrye, Egypt the highe and the lowe, Ermonye, Inde the lasse and the more, and many iles, that ben abouten Inde where dwellen many dyverse folkes and of dyverse maneres and schappes of men, of which I schalle speke more pleynly hereafter.

Mandeville,Travels, 1370

(4) Yn Brytayn buþ meny wondres, noþeles foure buþ most wonderfol. Þe furste ys at Pectoun, þar bloweþ so strong a wynd out of þe chenes of þe eorþe þat hyt casteþ vp a[gh]e[29]cloþes þat me casteþ in. Þe secunde ys at Stonhenge, bysydes Salesbury, þar gret stones & wondur huge buþ arered[30]an hy[gh], as hyt were [gh]ates, so þat þar semeþ [gh]ates yset apon oþer [gh]ates; noþeles hyt ys no[gh]t clerlych yknowe noþer parceyuet hou[gh] & whar-fore a buþ so arered & so wonderlych yhonged. Þe þriddle ys at Cherdhol,[31]þer ys gret holwenes vndur eorþe; ofte meny men habbeþ y-be þer-ynne & ywalked aboute with-ynne & yseye ryuers & streemes, bote nowhar conneþ hy fynde ende. Þe feurþe ys, þat reyn[32]ys ys ye arered vp of þe hulles, & anon yspronge aboute yn þe feeldes. Also þer ys a gret pond þat conteyneþ þre score ylondes couenable[33]for men to dwelle ynne; þat pound ys byclypped aboute wiþ six score rooches.[34]John of Trevisa, 1387

(4) Yn Brytayn buþ meny wondres, noþeles foure buþ most wonderfol. Þe furste ys at Pectoun, þar bloweþ so strong a wynd out of þe chenes of þe eorþe þat hyt casteþ vp a[gh]e[29]cloþes þat me casteþ in. Þe secunde ys at Stonhenge, bysydes Salesbury, þar gret stones & wondur huge buþ arered[30]an hy[gh], as hyt were [gh]ates, so þat þar semeþ [gh]ates yset apon oþer [gh]ates; noþeles hyt ys no[gh]t clerlych yknowe noþer parceyuet hou[gh] & whar-fore a buþ so arered & so wonderlych yhonged. Þe þriddle ys at Cherdhol,[31]þer ys gret holwenes vndur eorþe; ofte meny men habbeþ y-be þer-ynne & ywalked aboute with-ynne & yseye ryuers & streemes, bote nowhar conneþ hy fynde ende. Þe feurþe ys, þat reyn[32]ys ys ye arered vp of þe hulles, & anon yspronge aboute yn þe feeldes. Also þer ys a gret pond þat conteyneþ þre score ylondes couenable[33]for men to dwelle ynne; þat pound ys byclypped aboute wiþ six score rooches.[34]

John of Trevisa, 1387


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