| English Literature for Boys and Girls|
|by H. E. Marshall|
|Delightful introduction to the writers of English literature whose works hold the greatest appeal for the youthful reader. The life and personality of each author is given in outline, with enough material quoted from his works to give an idea of what he wrote. For most authors suggestions for further reading are included. The outline of historical background enables the young reader to grasp the connection between the literature and the life of the time. Excellent as a companion to a chronological study of English literature. Ages 12-15 |
CHAUCER—AT THE TABARD INN
 CHAUCER begins his description of the people who were gathered at
the Tabard Inn with the knight, who was the highest in rank among
"A knight there was, and that a worthy man,
And though he was worthy he was wise,
And of his port as meek as any maid.
He never yet no villainy ne'er said
In all his life unto no manner wight;
He was a very perfect, gentle knight."
Yet he was no knight of romance or fairy tale, but a good honest
English gentleman who had fought for his King. His coat was of
fustian and was stained with rust from his armor, for he had just
come back from fighting, and was still clad in his war-worn
clothes. "His horse was good, but he ne was gay."
With the knight was his son, a young squire of twenty years. He
was gay and handsome, with curling hair and comely face. His
clothes were in the latest fashion, gayly embroidered. He sat
his horse well and guided it with ease. He was merry and
careless and clever too, for he could joust and dance, sing and
play, read and write, and indeed do everything as a young squire
should. Yet with it all "courteous he was, lowly and
With these two came their servant, a yeoman, clad in hood of
green, and carrying besides many other weapons a "mighty bow."
As was natural in a gathering such as this, monks
 and friars and
their like figured largely. There was a monk, a worldly man,
fond of dress, fond of hunting, fond of a good dinner; and a
friar even more worldly and pleasure-loving. There was a
pardoner, a man who sold pardons to those who had done wrong, and
a sumpnour or summoner, who was so ugly and vile that children
were afraid of him. A summoner was a person who went to summon
or call people to appear before the Church courts when they had
done wrong. He was a much-hated person, and both he and the
pardoner were great rogues and cheats and had no love for each
other. There was also a poor parson.
All these, except the poor parson, Chaucer holds up to scorn
because he had met many such in real life who, under the pretense
of religion, lived bad lives. But that it was not the Church
that he scorned or any who were truly good he shows by his
picture of the poor parson. He was poor in worldly goods:—
"But rich he was in holy thought and work,
He was also a learned man, a clerk
That Christ's gospel truly would preach,
His parishioners devoutly would he teach;
Benign he was and wonder diligent,
And in adversity full patient.
Wide was his parish, and houses far asunder,
But he left naught for rain nor thunder
In sickness nor in mischief to visit
The farthest of his parish, great or lite
Upon his feet, and in his hand a staff.
The noble ensample to his sheep he gave,
That first he wrought, and afterward he taught."
There was no better parson anywhere. He taught his people
to walk in Christ's way. But first he followed it himself.
 Chaucer gives this good man a brother who is a plowman.
"A true worker and a good was he,
Living in peace and perfect charity."
He could dig, and he could thresh, and everything to which he put
his hand he did with a will.
Besides all the other religious folk there were a prioress and a
nun. In those days the convents were the only schools for fine
ladies, and the prioress perhaps spent her days teaching them.
Chaucer makes her very prim and precise.
"At meat well taught was she withal,
She let no morsel from her lips fall,
Nor wet her fingers in her sauce deep.
Well could she carry a morsel, and well keep
That no drop might fall upon her breast.
In courtesy was set full mickle her lest.
Her over lip wiped she so clean,
That in her cup there was no morsel seen
Of grease, when she drunken had her draught."
And she was so tender hearted! She would cry if she saw a mouse
caught in a trap, and she fed her little dog on the best of
everything. In her dress she was very dainty and particular.
And yet with all her fine ways we feel that she was no true lady,
and that ever so gently Chaucer is making fun of her.
Besides the prioress and the nun there was only one other woman
in the company. This was the vulgar, bouncing Wife of Bath. She
dressed in rich and gaudy clothes, she liked to go about to see
and be seen and have a good time. She had been married five
times, and though she was getting old and rather deaf, she was
quite ready to marry again, if the husband she had should die
 Chaucer describes nearly every one in the company, and last of
all he pictures for us the host of the Tabard Inn.
"A seemly man our host was withal
For to have been a marshal in a hall.
A large man he was with eyen stepe,
A fairer burgesse was there none in Chepe,
Bold was his speech, and wise and well y-taught,
And of manhood him lacked right naught,
Eke thereto he was right a merry man."
The host's name was Harry Baily, a big man and jolly fellow who
dearly loved a joke. After supper was over he spoke to all the
company gathered there. He told them how glad he was to see
them, and that he had not had so merry a company that year. Then
he told them that he had thought of something to amuse them on
the long way to Canterbury. It was this:—
"That each of you to shorten of your way
In this voyage shall tell tales tway—
To Canterbury-ward I mean it so,
And homeward ye shall tellen other two;—
Of adventures which whilom have befallen.
And which of you the beareth you best of all,
That is to say, that telleth in this case
Tales of best sentence, and most solace,
Shall have a supper at all our cost,
Here in this place, sitting at this post,
When that we come again fro Canterbury.
And for to make you the more merry
I will myself gladly with you ride,
Right at mine own cost, and be your guide."
To this every one willingly agreed, and next morning they waked
very early and set off. And having ridden a little way they cast
lots as to who should tell the first tale. The lot fell upon the
knight, who accordingly began.
 All that I have told you so far forms the first part of the book
and is called the prologue, which means really "before word" or
explanation. It is perhaps the most interesting part of the
book, for it is entirely Chaucer's own and it is truly English.
It is said that Chaucer borrowed the form of his famous tales
from a book called The Decameron, written by an Italian poet
named Boccaccio. Decameron comes from two Greek words deka, ten,
and hemera, a day, the book being so called because the stories
in it were supposed to be told in ten days. During a time of
plague in Florence seven ladies and three gentlemen fled and took
refuge in a house surrounded by a garden far from the town.
There they remained for ten days, and to amuse themselves each
told a tale every day, so that there are a hundred tales in all
in The Decameron.
It is very likely that in one of his journeys to Italy Chaucer
saw this book. Perhaps he even met Boccaccio, and it is more
than likely that he met Petrarch, another great Italian poet who
also retold one of the tales of The Decameron. Several of the
tales which Chaucer makes his people tell are founded on these
tales. Indeed, nearly all his poems are founded on old French,
Italian, or Latin tales. But although Chaucer takes his material
from others, he tells the stories in his own way, and so makes
them his own; and he never wrote anything more truly English in
spirit than the prologue to the Canterbury Tales.
Some of these stories you will like to read, but others are too
coarse and rude to give you any pleasure. Even the roughness of
these tales, however, helps us to picture the England of those
far-off days. We see from them how hard and rough the life must
have been when people found humor and fun in jokes in which we
can feel only disgust.
But even in Chaucer's day there were those who found such stories
coarse. "Precious fold," Chaucer calls them.
 He himself perhaps
did not care for them, indeed he explains in the tales why he
tells them. Here is a company of common, everyday people, he
said, and if I am to make you see these people, if they are to be
living and real to you, I must make them act and speak as such
common people would act and speak. They are churls, and they
must speak like churls and not like fine folk, and if you don't
like the tale, turn over the leaf and choose another.
"What should I more say but this miller
He would his words for no man forbear,
But told his churls tale in his manner.
Me thinketh that I shall rehearse it here;
And therefore every gently wight I pray,
For Goddes love deem not that I say
Of evil intent, but for I might rehearse
Their tales all, be they better or worse,
Or else falsen some of my matter:
And therefore, who so listeth it not to hear,
Turn over the leaf and choose another tale;
For he shall find enow, both great and small,
In storial thing that toucheth gentlesse,
And eke morality and holiness,—
Blame not me if that ye choose amiss.
This miller is a churl ye know well,
So was the Reeve, and many more,
And wickedness they tolden both two.
Advise you, put me out of blame;
And eke men shall not make earnest of game."
If Chaucer had written all the tales that he meant to write,
there would have been one hundred and twenty-four in all. But
the poet died long before his work was done, and as it is there
are only twenty-four. Two of these are not finished; one,
indeed, is only begun. Thus, you see, many of the pilgrims tell
no story at all, and we do not know who got the prize, nor do we
hear anything of the grand supper at the end of the journey.
Chaucer is the first of our poets who had a perfect sense
 of sound. He delights us not only with his stories, but with the
beauty of the words he uses. We lose a great deal of that beauty
when his poetry is put into modern English, as are all the
quotations which I have given you. It is only when we can read
the poems in the quaint English of Chaucer's time that we can see
truly how fine it is. So, although you may begin to love Chaucer
now, you must look forward to a time when you will be able to
read his stories as he wrote them. Then you will love them much
Chaucer wrote many other books beside the Canterbury Tales,
although not so many as was at one time thought. But the
Canterbury Tales are the most famous, and I will not trouble you
with the names even of the others. But when the grown-up time
comes, I hope that you will want to read some of his other books
as well as the Canterbury Tales.
And now, just to end this long chapter, I will give you a little
poem by Chaucer, written as he wrote it, with modern English
words underneath so that you may see the difference.
This poem was written when Chaucer was very poor. It was sent to
King Henry IV, who had just taken the throne from Richard II.
Henry's answer was a pension of twenty marks, so that once more
Chaucer lived in comfort. He died, however, a year later.
THE COMPLAYNT OF CHAUCER TO HYS PURSE
To yow my purse, and to noon other wight
To you my purse, and to no other wight
Complayne I, for ye by my lady dere;
Complain I, for ye be my lady dear;
I am so sorry now that ye been lyght,
I am so sorry now that ye be light,
For certes, but yf ye make me hevy chere
For certainly, but if ye make me heavy cheer
Me were as leef be layde upon my bere;
I would as soon be laid upon my bier;
For which unto your mercy thus I crye,
For which unto your mercy thus I cry,
Beeth hevy ageyne, or elles mote I dye.
Be heavy again, or else must I die.
Now voucheth-sauf this day or hyt by nyght
Now vouchsafe this day before it be night
That I of you the blisful sovne may here,
That I of you the blissful sound may hear,
Or see your colour lyke the sonne bryght,
Or see your colour like the sun bright,
That of yelownesse hadde neuer pere.
That of yellowness had never peer.
Ye be my lyfe, ye be myn hertys stere,
Ye be my life, ye be my heart's guide,
Quene of comfort, and of good companye,
Queen of comfort, and of good company,
Beth heuy ageyne, or elles moote I dye.
Be heavy again, or else must I die.
Now purse that ben to me my lyves lyght
Now purse that art to me my life's light
And saveour as down in this worlde here,
And saviour as down in this world here,
Oute of this tovne helpe me thrugh your myght,
Out of this town help me through your might,
Syn that ye wole nat bene my tresorere,
Since that ye will not be my treasurer,
For I am shave as nye as is a ffrere;
For I am shaven as close as is a friar;
But yet I pray vnto your curtesye,
But yet I pray unto your courtesy,
Bethe hevy agen or elles moote I dye.
Be heavy again or else must I die.
L'ENVOY DE CHAUCER
O conquerour of Brutes albyon,
O conqueror of Brutus' Albion
Whiche that by lygne and free leccion
Who that by line and free election
Been verray kynge, this song to yow I sende;
Art very king, this song to you I send;
And ye that mowen alle myn harme amende,
And ye that art able all my harm amend,
Haue mynde vpon my supplicacion.
Have mind upon my supplication.
In reading this you must sound the final "e" in each word except
when the next word begins with an "h" or with another vowel. You
will then find it read easily and smoothly.
BOOKS TO READ
Stories from Chaucer (prose), by J. H. Kelman.
Tales from Chaucer (prose), by C. L. Thomson.
Prologue to the Canterbury Tales and Minor Poems (poetry), done into Modern English by W. W. Skeat.
Canterbury Tales (poetry), edited by A. W. Pollard (in
Chaucer's English, suitable only for grown-up readers).
NOTE.— As there are so many books now published containing
stories from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, I feel it unnecessary to
give any here in outline.
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