Chapter 29

She axes me what for!

Axe her, who gagged the Knight?

SHIPMAN

Who tied the Squire?

MANCIPLE

Who watched in the wet cellar?

SUMMONER

Tied thy doublet?

FRIAR

Who stole thy scarlet cloak?

COOK

Who kissed thy toe?

MILLER

Axe her, what made us do all this? Mayhap

To get our backs flayed—what? Mayhap to make

Our wench a wedding with this vintner here?

SHIPMAN

Revenge!

FRIAR

Remember Peggy’s stall.

[They surround Chaucer threateningly.]

COOK

Vile tub!

PRIORESS

[Entering, left.]

O Roderigo, help him!

KNIGHT

Whom? That churl!

SQUIRE

Father, let me!

KNIGHT

You are deceived in him.

SQUIRE

But, sir, these are the rogues that bound you.

KNIGHT

He

Is one of them. They are beneath our notice.

MANCIPLE

Death to the vintner!

SUMMONER

Hit him!

ALISOUN

Stand away!

CHAUCER

[As Alisoun, with her fists, keeps them at bay.]

Happy, bridegroom, be thy starsWhen thy Venus turns to Mars!

Happy, bridegroom, be thy starsWhen thy Venus turns to Mars!

Happy, bridegroom, be thy starsWhen thy Venus turns to Mars!

Happy, bridegroom, be thy stars

When thy Venus turns to Mars!

[Enter heralds.]

HERALDS

Make way! Room for King Richard! Way! The King!

CLERK

[In the crowd.]

Shall we see Chaucer now?

PARSON

He’s sure to come.

[The heralds force back all the pilgrims, except those of high degree, showing, at the great door of the Cathedral, a procession of priests and choir-boys about to emerge.]

[The heralds force back all the pilgrims, except those of high degree, showing, at the great door of the Cathedral, a procession of priests and choir-boys about to emerge.]

PRIEST

Peace, folk! Stop wrangling. Kneel! His Reverence,

Archbishop of Canterbury, meets the King.

PRIORESS

[To Squire.]

Chaucer, you say?

SQUIRE

A little patience more.

[A silence falls on the pilgrims as, within the Cathedral, choir-boys begin to chant a hymn. Issuing from thedoor and forming against one side of the massed, kneeling pilgrims, enters a procession, headed by splendid-vested priests, carrying pictured banners of St. Thomas and his shrine, followed by choir-boys, and lastly, by the Archbishop of Canterbury with regalia.]

[A silence falls on the pilgrims as, within the Cathedral, choir-boys begin to chant a hymn. Issuing from thedoor and forming against one side of the massed, kneeling pilgrims, enters a procession, headed by splendid-vested priests, carrying pictured banners of St. Thomas and his shrine, followed by choir-boys, and lastly, by the Archbishop of Canterbury with regalia.]

THE PROCESSION

[Sings.]

“Tu, per Thomæ sanguinemQuem pro te impendit,Fac nos, Christe, scandereQuo Thomas ascendit.

“Tu, per Thomæ sanguinemQuem pro te impendit,Fac nos, Christe, scandereQuo Thomas ascendit.

“Tu, per Thomæ sanguinemQuem pro te impendit,Fac nos, Christe, scandereQuo Thomas ascendit.

“Tu, per Thomæ sanguinem

Quem pro te impendit,

Fac nos, Christe, scandere

Quo Thomas ascendit.

[Chants.]

Gloria et honore coronasti eum Domine

Et constituisti eum supra opera manuum tuarum

Ut ejus meritis et precibus a Gehennæ incendiis liberemur.”

[At the climax of the chant, as the Archbishop appears in the doorway, the chimes of the Cathedral peal forth from high above the kneeling crowd; cheers, beginning from the right, swell to a tumult, and as the people rise, enter, right, King Richard on horseback, the Dukes of Lancaster, Gloucester, and Ireland on ponies, and their train, among whom are Wycliffe and Johanna on foot. Six mules, laden with offerings, bring up the rear. The shouts of “God save the King!” “God save John Gaunt!” etc., continue till the King and nobles descend from their steeds.]

[At the climax of the chant, as the Archbishop appears in the doorway, the chimes of the Cathedral peal forth from high above the kneeling crowd; cheers, beginning from the right, swell to a tumult, and as the people rise, enter, right, King Richard on horseback, the Dukes of Lancaster, Gloucester, and Ireland on ponies, and their train, among whom are Wycliffe and Johanna on foot. Six mules, laden with offerings, bring up the rear. The shouts of “God save the King!” “God save John Gaunt!” etc., continue till the King and nobles descend from their steeds.]

PILGRIMS

God save King Richard!

KING RICHARD

Thanks, good gaffers, thanks!

[To John of Gaunt.]

Sweet Uncle Jack, thou hast a spanking pony.

Take her to Spain with you, and all the Dons

Will kiss her fetlock. N’est ce pas, bel ami?

DE VERE

They will, my Dick. Par charity! Haha!

ARCHBISHOP

[Saluting gravely.]

God save your Majesty!

KING RICHARD

God save you, too!

Your Reverence is looking in fine feather.

Here are some trinkets for the holy martyr.

These mules bear spices from Arabia;

These—tapers; and these—Persian tapestries.

Here’s a neat statue of myself in gold;

And so, and so, so.—

[To the Duke of Gloucester.]

Pretty Uncle Tom,

I wish my ruffs were puckered like your brows.

Dost thou pick faults, eh? in my Paris gown?

GLOUCESTER

My liege, this is the shrine of holy Becket.

KING RICHARD

Lord, save our souls!

[To De Vere.]

Lend me a looking-glass.

DE VERE

[Takes one from his sleeve.]

Ha! Dick, par charity!

[Richard and De Vere look in the glass and make faces inimitation of Gloucester and the others.]

PARSON

[In the crowd to the Clerk.]

Yonder’s the Duke

Of Lancaster: John Gaunt.

CHAUCER

[Who has been held back with the crowd by the heralds, pushes through, and hastening forward, kneels to Johanna, who is talking with Wycliffe.]

[Who has been held back with the crowd by the heralds, pushes through, and hastening forward, kneels to Johanna, who is talking with Wycliffe.]

A boon! a boon!

JOHANNA

[To Wycliffe.]

Protect me, sir!

CHAUCER

[Holds up Johanna’s love-knot.]

Lady, once more, your pledge!

JOHANNA

Unmannered loon!

A HERALD

[Seizes Chaucer roughly by the shoulder.]

Get back!

JOHN OF GAUNT

What, brother Geoffrey!

CHAUCER

Well met, old friend!

[They embrace.]

KING RICHARD

God’s eyes! Our laureate.

Halloa there, Chaucer!

JOHANNA

Chaucer!

ALISOUN

Chaucer!

PRIORESS

Chaucer!

[Chaucer bows to the King.]

SQUIRE

[To Knight.]

Father, I said so.

GAUNT

You are late, my poet

What make you here?

CHAUCER

Blunders, your Grace.

GAUNT

How, blunders?

CHAUCER

Taxing the memory of a gracious lady.

JOHANNA

Signor, the place of fool I should have sued

For you, hath been already filled—by me.

I crave your pardon.

CHAUCER

And I kiss your hand.

KING RICHARD

Ho, Chaucer!

ALISOUN

[Struggling with a herald.]

Let me out!

CHAUCER

Your Majesty?

KING RICHARD

When April comes, there’s not a man in England

But thinks on thee and love. While thou art England’s

And England Richard’s, thou art Richard’s own.

[As the King embraces Chaucer, Alisoun breaks away fromthe herald.]

ALISOUN

Hold up, your Majesty! The man is mine.

KING RICHARD

What’s this?

CHAUCER

My liege—another blunder.

[Chaucer whispers aside to the Man-of-Law.]

KING RICHARD

So?

The blunder was not God’s in making her.

ALISOUN

The man is mine.

KING RICHARD

What, Geoffrey, art thou tripped?

Have love and April overflowed thy verse

To fill thy veins?

CHAUCER

Your Majesty—

MAN-OF-LAW

[Aside to John of Gaunt.]

Dan Chaucer

Bid me explain to you—

[They talk aside.]

CHAUCER

Your Majesty,

This is that fair-reputed fay, Queen Mab,

Who, having met amid the woods of Kent,

Hath so enamoured me, as you have said,

With love and April, that—to speak it short—

We are betrothed.

KING RICHARD

Betrothed!

DE VERE

Par charity!

MILLER

[To a herald, who restrains him.]

Leave go!

GAUNT

[Aside to Man-of-Law.]

A miller?

MAN-OF-LAW

[Aside.]

Yes, that fellow there.

ALISOUN

[Nudging Chaucer.]

Speak on, sweet chuck.

CHAUCER

“Betrothed,” your Majesty:

’Tis a sweet word which lovers’ law hath hallow’d,

But which your law, King Richard, hath envenom’d.

“No woman may be wedded but five times:”

Thus saith the law.

KING RICHARD

What! Where?

GAUNT

[Laughingly aside.]

My liege!

[They whisper.]

CHAUCER

And so,

Because this queen of wives hath scarce been knit

Five times in wedlock, therefore—saith the law—

Our bosoms must be sundered.

MILLER

[In the crowd.]

God be praised!

CHAUCER

But knowing, King, how nobly wit and mercy

Are mixed in your complexion, I presume

To ask your greatness to outleap your laws

And grant, by special dispensation, to

This woman—a sixth husband.

KING RICHARD

By my fay, sir,

You ask too much. My laws are sacred.

[Aside to John of Gaunt, who whispers him.]

Hein?

ALISOUN

Dig him again there, Geoffrey.

CHAUCER

King, have grace!

KING RICHARD

The Duke of Lancaster advises me

There may be one exception.

[Aside.]

What? What’s that?

[Aloud.]

But only one. My law is sacred.—Woman,

I grant to thee the right to wed once more

On one condition. Mark it; thy sixth husband

Must be a miller.—Herald, sound the verdict.

[As the herald blares his trumpet, Alisoun shakes her fist at Chaucer, who eyes her slily; then both burst into laughter.]

[As the herald blares his trumpet, Alisoun shakes her fist at Chaucer, who eyes her slily; then both burst into laughter.]

HERALD

If any miller here desire this woman,

Now let him claim her.

MILLER

[Rushes up.]

Here, by Corpus bones!

ALISOUN

Thou sweet pig’s eye! I take thee.

[Extending her hand to Chaucer.]

Geoffrey, quits!

CHAUCER

Quits, Alisoun!

FRIAR

[Bobbing up between them.]

Et moi?

ALISOUN

Et toi.

[Kisses him.]

MILLER

[Grabbing him.]

Hold, friar!

That pays thee to perform the ceremony.

KING RICHARD

[Seated, to Chaucer.]

Come now, our prodigal Ulysses! Tell us;

What dark adventures have befallen thee since

Thou settest forth from Priam-Bailey’s castle?

What inland Circe witched our laureate

To mask his Muse among this porkish rabble?

CHAUCER

My liege, may I have leave to tell you bluntly?

KING RICHARD

Carte blanche, carte blanche, mon cher. I’ll be as mute

As e’er King Alcinous i’ the Odyssey.

CHAUCER

My Muse went masked, King Richard, from your court

To learn a roadside rhyme. Shall I repeat it?

KING RICHARD

Carte blanche, j’ai dit. Say on!

CHAUCER

Your Majesty,

“When Adam delved and Eve span,

Who was then the gentleman?”

MILLER

By Corpus bones!

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