ACT I
Time: April 16th, 1387. Late afternoon.
Scene: The Tabard Inn at Southwark, near London.
When the scene opens, about half of thePilgrimshave arrived; the others come in during the first part of the act. Those already arrived are theMiller,Shipman,Cook,Parson,Ploughman,Franklin,Doctor,Friar,Haberdasher,Carpenter,Weaver,Dyer,Tapicer,Clerk,andChaucer.At rise of curtain, theHostis just moving to receive theKnight,Squire, andYeomanat the door, back. Chaucer sits with a big volume on his knee in the corner by the fireplace, left; right front, the Miller and the Cook are wrestling, while those near look on.
When the scene opens, about half of thePilgrimshave arrived; the others come in during the first part of the act. Those already arrived are theMiller,Shipman,Cook,Parson,Ploughman,Franklin,Doctor,Friar,Haberdasher,Carpenter,Weaver,Dyer,Tapicer,Clerk,andChaucer.
At rise of curtain, theHostis just moving to receive theKnight,Squire, andYeomanat the door, back. Chaucer sits with a big volume on his knee in the corner by the fireplace, left; right front, the Miller and the Cook are wrestling, while those near look on.
COOK
Now, masters, see a miller eat bran!
MILLER
Corpus!
I’d liever wrastle with a butterfly.
SHIPMAN
Tackle him aft.
FRANKLIN
Grip, mon.
[They clutch each other.]
A SERVING-MAID
[Aside to Friar.]
A diamond pin?
FRIAR
[Lisps slightly.]
One of thy glances stickéd through my heart!
[Offers her the pin.]
SERVING-MAID
The Master is not looking now.
FRIAR
A bargain?
[Maid nods, takes the pin, and hurries off to serve at table. Friar follows.]
HOST
Welcome, Sir Knight!
KNIGHT
Is this the Tabard Inn?
HOST
[Points through the open door to his swinging sign.]
Lo yonder, sir, is Herry Bailey’s shirt
Flappeth in the wind; and this is Herry himself.
[Claps his hands for a serving-boy.]
Knave!
WEAVER
[Pounds on the table with a jug, while Carpenter tossesdice.]
Ale, here! Ale!
[A shout from the pilgrims, front.]
MILLER
[Throwing the Cook.]
Down!
SHIPMAN
Jolly chuck!
COOK
[Getting to his feet with a bloody nose and fisting.]
’Sblood! Thou—
FRANKLIN
Hold, Master Cook, sith thou hast licked the platter,
Go now and wash the gravy off thy nose.
Look to him, doctor.
DOCTOR
Here!
FRANKLIN
[To the Miller.]
And thou shalt eat
A sop of wine with me. By God, thy hand!
PARSON
[To Ploughman, drawing him away.]
He sweareth like Sathanas. Come!
PLOUGHMAN
Toot, brother!
A little swearing saveth from the gallows.
MILLER
[Laughing at the Cook.]
His nose is like a tart.
CLERK
[To Chaucer, feasting his eyes on his book.]
Grant pardon, sir.
In vanitate humanorum rerum,
I’ the world’s uproar, ’tis sweet to find a scholar.
CHAUCER
A book’s a mistress all the world may love
And none be jilted.
CLERK
Then am I in love.
What is the book?
CHAUCER
A medley, like its master,
Containing many divers characters,
Bound in one hide. Whoso shall read it through
He shall behold Troilus and Launcelot
Sighing in Cæsar’s face, and Scaramouche
Painting with grins the back of Aristotle.
CLERK
[Sparkling.]
What!—Aristotle?
CHAUCER
[Rising, hands him the volume.]
I prithee look it through.
CLERK
Grammercy—somewhat farther from the piping.
[Draws farther away from the Squire, who is beginning to play a few strains on his flute, in front of the fire.]
[Draws farther away from the Squire, who is beginning to play a few strains on his flute, in front of the fire.]
MAN OF LAW
[Entering withMerchant.]
For this recognisance—
MERCHANT
The ship was wrecked.
MAN OF LAW
Depardieux! Then your property is flotsam
And liable to salvage. Therefore you
Will need me as your man-of-law.
KNIGHT
[To Chaucer.]
I knew
You were a soldier by your bearing, sir.
You were at Cressy?
CHAUCER
Nay, Sir Knight, I played
With tin swords then. Though I have often fought
At Frenchmen’s heels, I was but six years old
When our Black Edward won his spurs.
KNIGHT
Runs time
So swiftly?—One and forty years ago!
HOST
[To a serving-maid.]
Belive, wench!
FRIAR
[Stealing a kiss from her.]
In principio—
HOST
What’s here?
MAID
The gentle friar!
HOST
Gentle flower-de-luce!
[Makes after Friar, who dodges behindMistress Bailey.]
MISTRESS BAILEY
[Shrewishly.]
Hold; goodman Herry! ’Tis a friend of mine.
[Host retires; Friar mocks him.]
KNIGHT
I am returning from the Holy Land
And go to pay my vows at Canterbury.
This is my son.
CHAUCER
Go you to Canterbury
As well, Sir Squire?
[The Squire, putting down his flute, sighs deeply.]
KNIGHT
My son, the gentleman
Accosts thee!
SQUIRE
Noble gentleman—Ah me!
[He turns away.]
CHAUCER
[Follows him.]
My dearest heart and best beloved foe,
Why liketh you to do me all this woe?
What have I done that grieveth you, or said,
Save that I love and serve you, high and low?
And whilst I live I will do ever so.
Wherefore, my sweet, do not that I be dead;
For good and fair and gentle as ye be,
It were great wonder if but that ye had
A thousand thousand servants, good and bad:
The most unworthiest servant—I am he!
SQUIRE
Sir, by my lady’s grace, you are a poet
And lover, like myself. We shall be brothers.
But pardon, sir, those verses are not yours.
Dan Chaucer wrote them. Ah, sir, know you Chaucer?
CHAUCER
Twelve stone of him!
SQUIRE
WouldIdid! Is he not
An amorous divinity? Looks he
Like pale Leander, or some ancient god?
CHAUCER
Sooth, he is like old Bacchus round the middle.
SQUIRE
How acts he when in love? What feathers wears he?
Doth he sigh oft? What lady doth he serve?
Oh!
[At a smile from Chaucer, he starts back and looks at him in awe; then hurries to the Knight. Chaucer walks among the pilgrims, talking with them severally.]
[At a smile from Chaucer, he starts back and looks at him in awe; then hurries to the Knight. Chaucer walks among the pilgrims, talking with them severally.]
MILLER
[To Franklin.]
Ten gallon ale? God’s arms! I take thee.
MAN OF LAW
What’s
The wager?
FRANKLIN
Yonder door; this miller here
Shall break it, at a running, with his head.
The door is oak. The stakes ten gallon ale.
SHIPMAN
Ho, then, I bet the miller shall be drunk.
MERCHANT
What bet?
SHIPMAN
Twelve crown upon the miller.
MERCHANT
Done.
[At the door appears thePrioress,accompanied by aNunand her threePriests,one of whom,Joannes,carries a little pup. The Host hurries up with a reverence.]
[At the door appears thePrioress,accompanied by aNunand her threePriests,one of whom,Joannes,carries a little pup. The Host hurries up with a reverence.]
HOST
Welcome, my lady dear. Vouchsafe to enter
Poor Herry Bailey’s inn.
PRIORESS
Merci.
HOST
[To a serving-boy.]
Knave, show
My lady Prioress to the blue chamber
Where His Majesty, King Richard, slept.
PRIORESS
Joannes,
Mark, Paulus, stay! have you the little hound
Safe?
JOANNES
Yes, my lady.
PRIORESS
Carry him before,
But carefully.
MILLER
[To Yeoman.]
Here, nut-head, hold my hood.
YEOMAN
Wilt try bareheaded?
FRIAR
’Mass!
FRANKLIN
Ho, for a skull!
Miller, thou art as tough a knot as e’er
The Devil tied. By God, mine ale is spilled.
[The priests and Prioress have just reached the door, left front, which the Miller is preparing to ram.]
[The priests and Prioress have just reached the door, left front, which the Miller is preparing to ram.]
PLOUGHMAN
The door is locked.
JOANNES
But, sir, the Prioress—
SHIPMAN
Heigh! Clear the decks!
[The Miller, with clenched fists, and head doubled over, runsfor the door.]
YEOMAN
Harrow!
PARSON
Run, Robin.
GUILD-MEN
[Rise from their dice.]
Ho!
[With a crash, the Miller’s head strikes the door and splits it. At the shock, he rebounds against Joannes, and reaching to save himself from falling, seizes the puppy.]
[With a crash, the Miller’s head strikes the door and splits it. At the shock, he rebounds against Joannes, and reaching to save himself from falling, seizes the puppy.]
MILLER
A twenty devils!
GUILD-MEN
[All but the Weaver, clambering over the table.]
Come on!
PLOUGHMAN
[To the Miller.]
What aileth thee?
MILLER
The priest hath bit my hand.
JOANNES
Sweet sir, the puppy—
It was the puppy, sir.
MILLER
Wring me its neck.
PRIORESS
Alas, Joannes—help!
MILLER
By Corpus bones!
Give me the cur.
PRIORESS
St. Loy! Will no one help?
CHAUCER
Madame, what may I do?
PRIORESS
My little hound—
The churl—My little hound! The churl will hurt it.
If you would fetch to me my little hound—
CHAUCER
Madame, I’d fetch you Cerberus from hell.
MILLER
Lo, masters! See a dog’s neck wrung!
CHAUCER
[Breaking through the crowd, seizes the Miller by the throat.]
Which dog’s?
MILLER
Leave go!—’Sdeath! Take the whelp, a devil’s name.
CHAUCER
Kneel! Ask grace of this lady here.
MILLER
[Sullenly.]
What lady?
CHAUCER
Of her whom gentles call St. Charity
In every place and time.—
[Turns then towards Prioress.]
What other name
This lady bears, I have not yet been honoured
With knowing.—Kneel!
MILLER
[Morosely; kneels.]
Lady, I axe your pardon.
CHAUCER
Madame, your little hound is safe.
PRIORESS
[Nestles the little hound with tender effusiveness; then turns shyly to Chaucer.]
[Nestles the little hound with tender effusiveness; then turns shyly to Chaucer.]
Merci!
My name is Madame Eglantine.
[Hurries out, left.]
CHAUCER
[Aside.]
Hold, Geoffrey!
Yon beastie’s quaking side thumped not as thine