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[Footnote 23: questioned.]

[Footnote 24: could tell me.]

[Footnote 25: Where this man dwelt.]

[Footnote 26: mean or gentle.]

[Footnote 27: of the Minorite order.]

[Footnote 28: I saluted them courteously.]

[Footnote 29: and poor men's cots.]

[Footnote 30: times.]

[Footnote 31: example.]

[Footnote 32: through his own negligence.]

[Footnote 33: weak, unstable.]

[Footnote 34: But.]

[Footnote 35: sloth.]

[Footnote 36: a year's-gift.]

[Footnote 37: to rule, guide, govern.]

[Footnote 38: mother-wit.]

[Footnote 39: I commit thee to Christ.]

[Footnote 40: to become.]

[Footnote 41: by myself.]

[Footnote 42: The charm of the birds.]

[Footnote 43: under a linden-tree on a plain.]

[Footnote 44: a short time.]

[Footnote 45: a most wonderful dream.]

[Footnote 46: I dreamed.]

[Footnote 47: followed.]

[Footnote 48: sawest.]

[Footnote 49: sooner.]

[Footnote 50: gains his livelihood.]

[Footnote 51: drunken.]

[Footnote 52: disdainful.]

[Footnote 53: club staff.]

[Footnote 54: to injure.]

[Footnote 55: pray.]

[Footnote 56: journeyed.]

[Footnote 57: we met Wit.]

[Footnote 58: work.]




GEOFFREY CHAUCER.

(1340?-1400.)


PORTRAITS FROM THE CANTERBURY TALES.

II. AND III. THE MONK AND THE FRIAR.


The following complete portraits of two of the characters in
Chaucer's matchless picture of the Canterbury Pilgrims are taken
from the Prologue to the _Canterbury Tales_.


II.

A monk ther was, a fayre for the maistrie,[59]
An outrider, that loved venerie;[60]
A manly man, to ben an abbot able.
Ful many a deinte[61] hors hadde he in stable:
And whan he rode, men might his bridel here
Gingeling in a whistling wind as clere,
And eke as loude, as doth the chapell belle,
Ther as this lord was keeper of the celle.
The reule of Seint Maure and of Seint Beneit,
Because that it was olde and somdele streit,
This ilke monk lette olde thinges pace,[62]
And held after the newe world the space.
He yaf not of the text a pulled hen,[63]
That saith, that hunters ben not holy men;
Ne that a monk, whan he is reckeles,[64]
Is like to a fish that is waterles;
That is to say, a monk out of his cloistre.
This ilke text held he not worth an oistre.
And I say his opinion was good.
What? shulde he studie, and make himselven wood[65]
Upon a book in cloistre alway to pore,
Or swinken[66] with his hondes, and laboure,
As Austin bit?[67] how shal the world be served?
Let Austin have his swink to him reserved.
Therfore he was a prickasoure[68] a right:
Greihoundes he hadde as swift as foul of flight:
Of pricking[69] and of hunting for the hare
Was all his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.
I saw his sleves purfiled[70] at the hond
With gris,[71] and that the finest of the lond.
And for to fasten his hood under his chinne,
He hadde of gold ywrought a curious pinne;
A love-knotte in the greter end ther was.
His hed was balled,[72] and shone as any glas,
And eke his face, as it hadde ben anoint.
He was a lord ful fat and in good point.
His eyen stepe,[73] and rolling in his hed,
That stemed as a forneis of led.[74]
His bootes souple, his hors in gret estat:
Now certainly he was a fayre prelat.
He was not pale as a forpined[75] gost.
A fat swan loved he best of any rost,
His palfrey was as broune as is a bery.


III.

A Frere[76] ther was, a wanton and a mery,
A Limitour,[77] a ful solempne man.
In all the ordres foure is none that can
So muche of daliance and fayre langage.
He hadde ymade ful many a mariage
Of yonge wimmen, at his owen cost.
Until[78] his ordre he was a noble post.
Ful wel beloved, and familier was he
With frankeleins[79] over all in his contree,
And eke with worthy wimmen of the toun:
For he had power of confessioun,
As saide himselfe, more than a curat,
For of his ordre he was a licenciat.
Ful swetely herde he confession,
And plesant was his absolution.
He was an esy man to give penaunce,
Ther as he wiste[80] to han[81] a good pitaunce:
For unto a poure[82] ordre for to give
Is signe that a man is wel yshrive.[83]
For if he gaf, he dorste make avaunt,[84]
He wiste that a man was repentaunt.
For many a man so hard is of his herte,
He may not wepe although him sore smerte.
Therfore in stede of weping and praieres,
Men mote[85] give silver to the poure freres.
His tippet was ay farsed[86] ful of knives,
And pinnes, for to given fayre wives.
And certainly he hadde a mery note.
Wel coude he singe and plaien on a rote.[87]
Of yeddinges[88] he bar utterly the pris.
His nekke was white as the flour de lis.
Therto he strong was as a champioun,
And knew wel the tavernes in every toun,
And every hosteler and tappestere,
Better than a lazar or a beggestere,
For unto swiche a worthy man as he
Accordeth not, as by his faculte,
To haven[89] with sike lazars acquaintance.
It is not honest, it may not avance,[90]
As for to delen with no swiche pouraille,[91]
But all with riche, and sellers of vitaille.
And over all, ther as profit shuld arise,
Curteis he was, and lowly of servise.
Ther nas no man no wher so vertuous.
He was the beste begger in his hous:
[And gave a certain ferme[92] for the grant,
Non of his bretheren came in his haunt.]
For though a widewe hadde but a shoo,
(So plesant was his _in principio_)
Yet wold he have a ferthing or[93] he went.
His pourchas was wel better than his rent.[94]
And rage he coude as it hadde ben a whelp,
In lovedayes,[95] ther coude he mochel help.
For ther he was nat like a cloisterere,
With thredbare cope, as is a poure scolere,
But he was like a maister or a pope.
Of double worsted was his semicope,[96]
That round was as a belle out of the presse.
Somwhat he lisped, for his wantonnesse,
To make his English swete upon his tonge;
And in his harping, whan that he hadde songe,
His eyen twinkeled in his hed aright,
As don the sterres in a frosty night.
This worthy limitour was cleped Huberd.

[Footnote 59: a fair one for the mastership.]

[Footnote 60: hunting.]

[Footnote 61: dainty.]

[Footnote 62: pass.]

[Footnote 63: did not care a plucked hen for the text.]

[Footnote 64: careless; removed from the restraints of his order and
vows.]

[Footnote 65: mad.]

[Footnote 66: toil.]

[Footnote 67: biddeth.]

[Footnote 68: hard rider.]

[Footnote 69: spurring.]

[Footnote 70: wrought on the edge.]

[Footnote 71: a fine kind of fur.]

[Footnote 72: bald.]

[Footnote 73: bright.]

[Footnote 74: Shone like a furnace under a cauldron.]

[Footnote 75: tormented.]

[Footnote 76: Friar.]

[Footnote 77: A friar with a licence to beg within certain limits.]

[Footnote 78: Unto.]

[Footnote 79: country gentlemen.]

[Footnote 80: knew.]

[Footnote 81: have.]

[Footnote 82: poor.]

[Footnote 83: shriven.]

[Footnote 84: durst make a boast.]

[Footnote 85: must.]

[Footnote 86: stuffed.]

[Footnote 87: a stringed instrument.]

[Footnote 88: story telling.]

[Footnote 89: have.]

[Footnote 90: profit.]

[Footnote 91: poor people.]

[Footnote 92: farm. This couplet only appears in the Hengwrt MS. As Mr.
Pollard says, it is probably Chaucer's, but may have been omitted by
him as it interrupts the sentence. Cf. _Globe_ Chaucer.]

[Footnote 93: ere.]

[Footnote 94: The proceeds of his begging exceeded his fixed income.]

[Footnote 95: Days appointed for the amicable settlement of
differences.]

[Footnote 96: half cloak.]




JOHN LYDGATE.

(1373?-1460.)


IV. THE LONDON LACKPENNY.


This is an admirable picture of London life early in the fifteenth
century. The poem first appeared among Lydgate's fugitive pieces,
and has been preserved in the Harleian MSS.


To London once my steps I bent,
Where truth in no wise should be faint;
To Westminster-ward I forthwith went,
To a man of Law to make complaint.
I said, "For Mary's love, that holy saint,
Pity the poor that would proceed!"[97]
But for lack of money, I could not speed.

And, as I thrust the press among,
By froward chance my hood was gone;
Yet for all that I stayed not long
Till to the King's Bench I was come.
Before the Judge I kneeled anon
And prayed him for God's sake take heed.
But for lack of money, I might not speed.

Beneath them sat clerks a great rout,[98]
Which fast did write by one assent;
There stood up one and cried about
"Richard, Robert, and John of Kent!"
I wist not well what this man meant,
He cried so thickly there indeed.
But he that lacked money might not speed.

To the Common Pleas I yode tho,[99]
There sat one with a silken hood:
I 'gan him reverence for to do,
And told my case as well as I could;
How my goods were defrauded me by falsehood;
I got not a mum of his mouth for my meed,[100]
And for lack of money I might not speed.

Unto the Rolls I gat me from thence,
Before the clerks of the Chancery;
Where many I found earning of pence;
But none at all once regarded me.
I gave them my plaint upon my knee;
They liked it well when they had it read;
But, lacking money, I could not be sped.

In Westminster Hall I found out one,
Which went in a long gown of ray;[101]
I crouched and knelt before him; anon,
For Mary's love, for help I him pray.
"I wot not what thou mean'st", 'gan he say;
To get me thence he did me bid,
For lack of money I could not speed.

Within this Hall, neither rich nor yet poor
Would do for me aught although I should die;
Which seing, I gat me out of the door;
Where Flemings began on me for to cry,--
"Master, what will you copen[102] or buy?
Fine felt hats, or spectacles to read?
Lay down your silver, and here you may speed."

To Westminster Gate I presently went,
When the sun was at high prime;
Cooks to me they took good intent,[103]
And proffered me bread, with ale and wine,
Ribs of beef, both fat and full fine;
A faire cloth they 'gan for to spread,
But, wanting money, I might not then speed.

Then unto London I did me hie,
Of all the land it beareth the prize;
"Hot peascodes!" one began to cry;
"Strawberries ripe!" and "Cherries in the rise!"[104]
One bade me come near and buy some spice;
Pepper and saffrone they 'gan me bede;[105]
But, for lack of money, I might not speed.

Then to the Cheap I 'gan me drawn,[106]
Where much people I saw for to stand;
One offered me velvet, silk, and lawn;
Another he taketh me by the hand,
"Here is Paris thread, the finest in the land";
I never was used to such things indeed;
And, wanting money, I might not speed.

Then went I forth by London stone,
Throughout all the Canwick Street;
Drapers much cloth me offered anon;
Then comes me one cried, "Hot sheep's feet!"
One cried, "Mackarel!" "Rushes green!" another 'gan greet;[107]
One bade me buy a hood to cover my head;
But for want of money I might not be sped.

Then I hied me into East Cheap:
One cries "Ribs of beef and many a pie!"
Pewter pots they clattered on a heap;
There was harpe, pipe, and minstrelsy:
"Yea, by cock!" "Nay, by cock!" some began cry;
Some sung of "Jenkin and Julian" for their meed;
But, for lack of money, I might not speed.

Then into Cornhill anon I yode
Where there was much stolen gear among;
I saw where hung my owne hood,
That I had lost among the throng:
To buy my own hood I thought it wrong;
I knew it as well as I did my creed;
But, for lack of money, I could not speed.

The Taverner took me by the sleeve;
"Sir," saith he, "will you our wine assay?"
I answered, "That cannot much me grieve;
A penny can do no more than it may."
I drank a pint, and for it did pay;
Yet, sore a-hungered from thence I yede;
And, wanting money, I could not speed.

Then hied I me to Billings-gate,
And one cried, "Ho! go we hence!"
I prayed a bargeman, for God's sake,
That he would spare me my expense.
"Thou 'scap'st not here," quoth he, "under twopence;
I list not yet bestow any almsdeed."
Thus, lacking money, I could not speed.

Then I conveyed me into Kent;
For of the law would I meddle no more.
Because no man to me took intent,
I dight[108] me to do as I did before.
Now Jesus that in Bethlehem was bore[109],
Save London and send true lawyers their meed!
For whoso wants money with them shall not speed.


[Footnote 97: go to law.]

[Footnote 98: crowd.]

[Footnote 99: went then.]

[Footnote 100: reward.]

[Footnote 101: striped stuff.]

[Footnote 102: exchange.]

[Footnote 103: notice.]

[Footnote 104: on the bough.]

[Footnote 105: offer.]

[Footnote 106: approach.]

[Footnote 107: call.]

[Footnote 108: set.]

[Footnote 109: born.]




WILLIAM DUNBAR.

(1460-1520?)


V. THE DANCE OF THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS.

One of Dunbar's most telling satires, as well as one of the most
powerful in the language.


I.

Of Februar the fiftene nicht
Full lang before the dayis licht
I lay intill a trance
And then I saw baith Heaven and Hell
Me thocht, amang the fiendis fell
Mahoun gart cry ane dance
Of shrews that were never shriven,[110]
Agains the feast of Fastern's even,[111]
To mak their observance.
He bad gallants gae graith a gyis,[112]
And cast up gamountis[113] in the skies,
As varlets do in France.


II.

Helie harlots on hawtane wise,[114]
Come in with mony sundry guise,
But yet leuch never Mahoun,
While priests come in with bare shaven necks;
Then all the fiends leuch, and made gecks,
Black-Belly and Bawsy Brown.[115]


III.

Let see, quoth he, now wha begins:
With that the foul Seven Deadly Sins
Begoud to leap at anis.
And first of all in Dance was Pride,
With hair wyld back, and bonnet on side,
Like to make vaistie wanis;[116]
And round about him, as a wheel,
Hang all in rumples to the heel
His kethat for the nanis:[117]
Mony proud trumpour[118] with him trippit;
Through scalding fire, aye as they skippit
They girned with hideous granis.[119]


IV.

Then Ire came in with sturt and strife;
His hand was aye upon his knife,
He brandished like a beir:[120]
Boasters, braggars, and bargainers,[121]
After him passit in to pairs,
All bodin in feir of weir;[122]
In jacks, and scryppis, and bonnets of steel,
Their legs were chainit to the heel,[123]
Frawart was their affeir:[124]
Some upon other with brands beft,[125]
Some jaggit others to the heft,
With knives that sharp could shear.


V.

Next in the Dance followit Envy,
Filled full of feud and felony,
Hid malice and despite:
For privy hatred that traitor tremlit;
Him followit mony freik dissemlit,[126]
With fenyeit wordis quhyte:[127]
And flatterers in to men's faces;
And backbiters in secret places,
To lie that had delight;
And rownaris of false lesings,[128]
Alace! that courts of noble kings
Of them can never be quit.


VI.

Next him in Dance came Covetyce,
Root of all evil, and ground of vice,
That never could be content:
Catives, wretches, and ockeraris,[129]
Hudpikes,[130] hoarders, gatheraris,
All with that warlock went:
Out of their throats they shot on other
Het, molten gold, me thocht, a futher[131]
As fire-flaucht maist fervent;
Aye as they toomit them of shot,
Fiends filled them new up to the throat
With gold of all kind prent.[132]


VII.

Syne Sweirness, at the second bidding,
Came like a sow out of a midding,
Full sleepy was his grunyie:[133]
Mony swear bumbard belly huddroun,[134]
Mony slut, daw, and sleepy duddroun,
Him servit aye with sonnyie;[135]
He drew them furth intill a chain,
And Belial with a bridle rein
Ever lashed them on the lunyie:[136]
In Daunce they were so slaw of feet,
They gave them in the fire a heat,
And made them quicker of cunyie.[137]


VIII.

Then Lechery, that laithly corpse,
Came berand like ane baggit horse,[138]
And Idleness did him lead;
There was with him ane ugly sort,
And mony stinking foul tramort,[139]
That had in sin been dead:
When they were enterit in the Dance,
They were full strange of countenance,
Like torches burning red.


IX.

Then the foul monster, Gluttony,
Of wame insatiable and greedy,
To Dance he did him dress:
Him followit mony foul drunkart,
With can and collop, cup and quart,
In surfit and excess;
Full mony a waistless wally-drag,
With wames unweildable, did furth wag,
In creesh[140] that did incress:
Drink! aye they cried, with mony a gaip,
The fiends gave them het lead to laip,
Their leveray was na less.[141]


X.

Nae minstrels played to them but doubt,[142]
For gleemen there were halden out,
Be day, and eke by nicht;
Except a minstrel that slew a man,
So to his heritage he wan,
And enterit by brieve of richt.[143]
Then cried Mahoun for a Hieland Padyane:[144]
Syne ran a fiend to fetch Makfadyane,
Far northwast in a neuck;
Be he the coronach[145] had done shout,
Ersche men so gatherit him about,
In hell great room they took:
Thae tarmigants, with tag and tatter,
Full loud in Ersche begoud to clatter,
And roup like raven and rook.[146]
The Devil sae deaved[147] was with their yell;
That in the deepest pot of hell
He smorit[148] them with smoke!

[Footnote 110: Mahoun, or the devil, proclaimed a dance of sinners that
had not received absolution.]

[Footnote 111: The evening before Lent, usually a festival at the
Scottish court.]

[Footnote 112: go prepare a show in character.]

[Footnote 113: gambols.]

[Footnote 114: Holy harlots (hypocrites), in a haughty manner. The term
harlot was applied indiscriminately to both sexes.]

[Footnote 115: Names of spirits, like Robin Goodfellow in England, and
Brownie in Scotland.]

[Footnote 116: Pride, with hair artfully put back, and bonnet on side:
"vaistie wanis" is now unintelligible; some interpret the phrase as
meaning "wasteful wants", but this seems improbable, considering the
locality or scene of the poem.]

[Footnote 117: His cassock for the nonce or occasion.]

[Footnote 118: a cheat or impostor.]

[Footnote 119: groans.]

[Footnote 120: bear.]

[Footnote 121: Boasters, braggarts, and bullies.]

[Footnote 122: Arrayed in the accoutrements of war.]

[Footnote 123: In coats of armour, and covered with iron network to the
heel.]

[Footnote 124: Wild was their aspect.]

[Footnote 125: brands beat.]

[Footnote 126: many strong dissemblers.]

[Footnote 127: With feigned words fair or white.]

[Footnote 128: spreaders of false reports.]

[Footnote 129: usurers.]

[Footnote 130: Misers.]

[Footnote 131: a great quantity.]

[Footnote 132: gold of every coinage.]

[Footnote 133: his grunt.]

[Footnote 134: Many a lazy glutton.]

[Footnote 135: served with care.]

[Footnote 136: loins.]

[Footnote 137: quicker of apprehension.]

[Footnote 138: neighing like an entire horse.]

[Footnote 139: corpse.]

[Footnote 140: grease.]

[Footnote 141: Their reward, or their desire not diminished.]

[Footnote 142: No minstrels without doubt--a compliment to the poetical
profession: there were no gleemen or minstrels in the infernal
regions.]

[Footnote 143: letter of right.]

[Footnote 144: Pageant.]

[Footnote 145: By the time he had done shouting the coronach or cry of
help, the Highlanders speaking Erse or Gaelic gathered about him.]

[Footnote 146: croaked like ravens and rooks.]

[Footnote 147: deafened.]

[Footnote 148: smothered.]




SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.

(1490-1555.)


VI. SATIRE ON THE SYDE TAILLIS--ANE SUPPLICATIOUN DIRECTIT TO THE KINGIS
GRACE--1538.

The specimen of Lyndsay cited below--this satire on long trains--is
by no means the most favourable that could be desired, but it is
the only one that lent itself readily to quotation. The archaic
spelling is slightly modernized.


Schir! though your Grace has put gret order
Baith in the Hieland and the Border
Yet mak I supplicatioun
Till have some reformatioun
Of ane small falt, whilk is nocht treason
Though it be contrarie to reason.
Because the matter been so vile,
It may nocht have ane ornate style;
Wherefore I pray your Excellence
To hear me with great patience:
Of stinking weedis maculate
No man nay mak ane rose-chaplet.
Sovereign, I mean of thir syde tails,
Whilk through the dust and dubis trails
Three quarters lang behind their heels,
Express again' all commonweals.
Though bishops, in their pontificals,
Have men for to bear up their tails,
For dignity of their office;
Richt so ane queen or ane empress;
Howbeit they use sic gravity,
Conformand to their majesty,
Though their robe-royals be upborne,
I think it is ane very scorn,
That every lady of the land
Should have her tail so syde trailand;
Howbeit they been of high estate,
The queen they should nocht counterfeit.

Wherever they may go it may be seen
How kirk and causay they soop[149] clean.
The images into the kirk
May think of their syde taillis irk;[150]
For when the weather been maist fair,
The dust flies highest in the air,
And all their faces does begarie.
Gif they could speak, they wald them warie...[151]
But I have maist into despite
Poor claggocks[152] clad in raploch-white,
Whilk has scant twa merks for their fees,
Will have twa ells beneath their knees.
Kittock that cleckit[153] was yestreen,
The morn, will counterfeit the queen:
And Moorland Meg, that milked the yowes,
Claggit with clay aboon the hows,[154]
In barn nor byre she will not bide,
Without her kirtle tail be syde.
In burghs, wanton burgess wives
Wha may have sydest tailis strives,
Weel bordered with velvet fine,
But followand them it is ane pyne:
In summer, when the streetis dries,
They raise the dust aboon the skies;
Nane may gae near them at their ease,
Without they cover mouth and neese...
I think maist pane after ane rain,
To see them tuckit up again;
Then when they step furth through the street,
Their fauldings flaps about their feet;
They waste mair claith, within few years,
Nor wald cleid fifty score of freirs...
Of tails I will no more indite,
For dread some duddron[155] me despite:
Notwithstanding, I will conclude,
That of syde tails can come nae gude,
Sider nor may their ankles hide,
The remanent proceeds of pride,
And pride proceeds of the devil,
Thus alway they proceed of evil.

Ane other fault, sir, may be seen--
They hide their face all but the een;
When gentlemen bid them gude-day,
Without reverence they slide away...
Without their faults be soon amended,
My flyting,[156] sir, shall never be ended;
But wald your Grace my counsel tak,
Ane proclamation ye should mak,
Baith through the land and burrowstouns,[157]
To shaw their face and cut their gowns.

Women will say this is nae bourds,[158]
To write sic vile and filthy words.
But wald they clenge[159] their filthy tails
Whilk over the mires and middens trails,
Then should my writing clengit be;
None other mends they get of me.

[Footnote 149: sweep.]

[Footnote 150: be annoyed.]

[Footnote 151: curse or cry out.]

[Footnote 152: draggle-tails.]

[Footnote 153: hatched.]

[Footnote 154: houghs.]

[Footnote 155: slut.]

[Footnote 156: scolding, brawling.]

[Footnote 157: burgh towns.]

[Footnote 158: scoffs.]

[Footnote 159: cleanse.]




BISHOP JOSEPH HALL.

(1574-1656.)


VII. ON SIMONY.

This satire levels a rebuke at the Simoniacal traffic in livings,
then openly practised by public advertisement affixed to the door
of St. Paul's. "Si Quis" (if anyone) was the first word of these
advertisements. Dekker, in the _Gull's Hornbook_, speaks of the
"Siquis door of Paules", and in Wroth's _Epigrams_ (1620) we read,
"A Merry Greek set up a _Siquis_ late". This satire forms the Fifth
of the Second Book of the _Virgidemiarum_.


Saw'st thou ever Siquis patcht on Pauls Church door
To seek some vacant vicarage before?
Who wants a churchman that can service say,
Read fast and fair his monthly homily?
And wed and bury and make Christen-souls?[160]
Come to the left-side alley of St. Paules.
Thou servile fool, why could'st thou not repair
To buy a benefice at Steeple-Fair?
There moughtest thou, for but a slendid price,
Advowson thee with some fat benefice:
Or if thee list not wait for dead mens shoon,
Nor pray each morn the incumbents days were doone:
A thousand patrons thither ready bring,
Their new-fall'n[161] churches, to the chaffering;
Stake three years stipend: no man asketh more.
Go, take possession of the Church porch door,
And ring thy bells; luck stroken in thy fist
The parsonage is thine, or ere thou wist.
Saint Fool's of Gotam[162] mought thy parish be
For this thy base and servile Simony.

[Footnote 160: baptize.]

[Footnote 161: newly fallen in, through the death of the incumbent.]

[Footnote 162: Referring to Andrew Borde's book, _The Merry Tales of
the Mad Men of Gotham_.]

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