To none save me; but faith! I grudge ’em dearly.
SQUIRE
Did you find time to write—the other verses?
CHAUCER
The others?
SQUIRE
To my lady.
CHAUCER
Those you sent for?
Did not you like them?
SQUIRE
I? I sent for none, sir.
JOHANNA
[Aside.]
Still whispering? Faith! Hath my Aubrey lost
Both heart and manners to this tavern rhymester?
I will not have it.
SQUIRE
[To Chaucer.]
But I sent no friar!
CHAUCER
He took your mistress’s verses, saying you
Had sent for them by him.
JOHANNA
Excuse me, sirs:
That arbour-seat has room for two to sit,
Providing we choose wisely from us three.
CHAUCER
Your choice is fate.
SQUIRE
[Aside to Chaucer as they enter the arbour.]
The friar must have stolen them.
[Johanna and the Squire sit; Chaucer stands talking withthem, his back toward the arbour’s entrance.]
[Enter, right, from inn, the Prioress and Friar, the formerreading a parchment.]
PRIORESS
The verse is very beautiful.
FRIAR
Is’t not
Enough to make the Muse weep amber? Zipp!
’Tis honey’d moonbeams stored in lachrymals.
PRIORESS
[Reads.]
“Eglantine,O to beThere with thee,Over sea;In olive-silvered Italy.”
But, gentle friar, why in Italy
When I’m in England?
FRIAR
Dame, ’tis poetry.
In poetry, all ladies have blue eyes
And live in Italy.
PRIORESS
And is this truly
For me?
FRIAR
He bade me give it with this spray.
PRIORESS
[Taking the sprig of eglantine.]
He is so chivalrous! But I must finish.
“In olive-silvered Italy.There to prayAt thy shrine,There to layThis green sprayOf our English eglantine.At thy feet.Lady mine,Then wouldst thou say:‘Pilgrim sweetIn Padua,Take it; it is thine.’”
Is Padua short for Bob-up-and-down?
FRIAR
Yes, dame.
[Aside.]
And now to watch my experiment
Precipitate rose-colour.
PRIORESS
[Sighs.]
Almost finished!
[Reads.]
“Say not nay!Fairest, dearest, far away,Donna Eglantine.”
FRIAR
Alas, Madame, I did but do my duty.
He bade me bring them.
PRIORESS
From my heart, I thank you.
They’re very beautiful.
FRIAR
But amorous,
I fear; they arelove-verses.
PRIORESS
Are they? Sure,
I thought them sweet. He is so chivalrous.
FRIAR
[Aside, takes out his stolen parchment.]
Soft, then, I’ll try the other. This should bring
The explosion.
[Rattles the parchment.]
PRIORESS
[Eagerly, laying the first parchment on the table.]
Did he send more verses?
FRIAR
Nay,
He sent no more, though from his pouch there fell
This parchment; but methinks he would desire you
Not to peruse it.
[Turning as if to leave, he discovers the three conversing inthe arbour.]
PRIORESS
Me!
FRIAR
Yes, dame, for it
Describes you.
PRIORESS
How?
FRIAR
Alas! In different vein
From the other.
PRIORESS
Different?
[Demanding it with a gesture.]
Quickly!
FRIAR
’Tis my duty.
[Hands her the manuscript.]
PRIORESS
[Snatching it; reads.]
“There was also a nun, a prioress,
That of her smiling was full simple and coy;
The greatest oath she swore was ‘by St. Loy!’”
O ciel! O quel outrage!
[While she reads on to herself, changing visibly to pique and tears, the Friar, purloining the first parchment from the table, trips over to the arbour’s entrance and bows.]
[While she reads on to herself, changing visibly to pique and tears, the Friar, purloining the first parchment from the table, trips over to the arbour’s entrance and bows.]
FRIAR
Diner est servi!
Messieurs, you are awaited by a lady.
[Runs off.]
CHAUCER
[To Squire.]
Quick! Catch him!
JOHANNA
[To Squire.]
Stay! “A lady?”
[Pursued, the Friar drops his parchment, and, as the Squirestops to pick it up, escapes at the garden gate.]
PRIORESS
[Holding her parchment, confronts Chaucer.]
Stay, Monsieur.
[Reads.]
“And French she spake (St. Patrick taught her how!)”
You hear, Monsieur—“St. Patrick taught her how!”
Oh, where is my Jacquette!
SQUIRE
[Joyfully; glancing at the other parchment.]
These are the verses!
[Hands the parchment eagerly to Johanna.]
CHAUCER
Madame, be calm. I will explain.
PRIORESS
Non, non.
JOHANNA
[Reads.]
“Eglantine,
O to be
There with thee—”
[To Squire.]
Wrote you these verses, sir? Who’s Eglantine?
SQUIRE
Why, lady, she—
PRIORESS
[To Chaucer.]
How could you write them?
CHAUCER
Patience,
Dear Madame Eglantine—
JOHANNA
Ha! Eglantine!
CHAUCER
[To Prioress, distracted.]
Which verses do you mean? I wrote them not
To you!
PRIORESS
What, not to me? Those gracious lines,
So exquisite?
CHAUCER
Good God!
SQUIRE
[To Johanna.]
Upon my truth,
These verses are for you. Let me explain—
JOHANNA
Nay, let your friend.
[Showing her parchment to Chaucer.]
Sir, did you write these verses?
CHAUCER
I did!
PRIORESS
[Showing her parchment.]
And these, Monsieur?
CHAUCER
I did.
JOHANNA
And pray,
To whom did you writethese?
CHAUCER
To you.
JOHANNA
O Heaven!
PRIORESS
To her!
[Unseen, save by the audience, the cellar door is opened, part way, and Alisoun peers out, dressed in the Knight’s clothes, but still without a make-up. She winks to Huberd, whose head bobs up a moment from behind the wall.]
[Unseen, save by the audience, the cellar door is opened, part way, and Alisoun peers out, dressed in the Knight’s clothes, but still without a make-up. She winks to Huberd, whose head bobs up a moment from behind the wall.]
SQUIRE
[To Johanna.]
Sweet mistress—
JOHANNA
I demand to know
Who is this rhyming man? Who was his father?
CHAUCER
My father was a vintner, dame, in London.
PRIORESS
A vintner?
SQUIRE
[With pleading deprecation.]
Sir—
JOHANNA
Small marvel that his son
Should be a cask.
ALISOUN
[Aside, jubilantly.]
God save my betters!
JOHANNA
[To Squire.]
“If
You could but guess the Olympian pedigree—”
Saints! Take me to my guardian, sir.
PRIORESS
[To Chaucer.]
Ah! bring
Me to my brother! O Monsieur! How false!
FRIAR
[From behind the wall, sings.]
Love is a liar,
But lovers love the pleasant friar,
Who, making of their burdens less—
CHAUCER and SQUIRE
That friar!
FRIAR
[Popping his head above the wall with a mock gesture of benediction,sings.]
Ben’cite!(Thus singeth he.)Bene—benedicite!
Ben’cite!(Thus singeth he.)Bene—benedicite!
Ben’cite!(Thus singeth he.)Bene—benedicite!
Ben’cite!
(Thus singeth he.)
Bene—benedicite!
Explicit pars secunda.