Chaucer especially seemed to enjoy exposing corrupt, venal churchy types. The monk, as looked at previously, is obviously not a stellar example of the religious life. He keeps worldly goods, is far too impressed with his own good looks, and fails miserably at monkhood. He is not alone.
Ther was also a nonne, a prioresse,
119: That of hir smylyng was ful symple and coy;
120: Hire gretteste ooth was but by seinte loy;
121: And she was cleped madame eglentyne.
122: Ful weel she soong the service dyvyne,
123: Entuned in hir nose ful semely,
124: And frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly,
125: After the scole of stratford atte bowe,
126: For frenssh of parys was to hire unknowe.
127: At mete wel ytaught was she with alle:
128: She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,
129: Ne wette hir fyngres in hir sauce depe;
130: Wel koude she carie a morsel and wel kepe
131: That no drope ne fille upon hire brest.
132: In curteisie was set ful muchel hir lest.
133: Hir over-lippe wyped she so clene
134: That in hir coppe ther was no ferthyng sene
135: Of grece, whan she dronken hadde hir draughte.
136: Ful semely after hir mete she raughte.
137: And sikerly she was of greet desport,
138: And ful plesaunt, and amyable of port,
139: And peyned hire to countrefete cheere
140: Of court, and to been estatlich of manere,
141: And to ben holden digne of reverence.
142: But, for to speken of hire conscience,
143: She was so charitable and so pitous
144: She wolde wepe, if that she saugh a mous
145: Kaught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.
146: Of smale houndes hadde she that she fedde
147: With rosted flessh, or milk and wastel-breed.
148: But soore wepte she if oon of hem were deed,
149: Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte;
150: And al was conscience and tendre herte.
151: Ful semyly hir wympul pynched was,
152: Hir nose tretys, hir eyen greye as glas,
153: Hir mouth ful smal, and therto softe and reed;
154: But sikerly she hadde a fair forheed;
155: It was almoost a spanne brood, I trowe;
156: For, hardily, she was nat undergrowe.
157: Ful fetys was hir cloke, as I was war.
158: Of smal coral aboute hire arm she bar
159: A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene,
160: And theron heng a brooch of gold ful sheene,
161: On which ther was first write a crowned a,
162: And after amor vincit omnia.http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/source/CT-prolog-para.html
There was also a nun, a prioress (Priories were smaller monastaries, usually under the oversight of an abbey, so the prioress would be the head nun of her group)
Whose smile was both simple and coy (duplicity and deceit)
Her greatest oath was only "By Saint Loy!" (The most dreadful thing that she would say is "by St. Loy!"- St. Loy (St. Eligius, more formally) is the patron saint of goldsmiths, coin collectors, etc. Interesting saint to call upon in times of need.)
And she was named Madame Eglentyne.
She sang the divine service very well...seemingly all through her nose. (Nasal singing is generally regarded as inferior, if not downright annoying, so Chaucer is letting us know that she is not as she represents herself)
And she spoke French very fairly and (fluently), in the style of the school of Stratford -at-Bowe, because the French of Paris, was to her unknown. (Her French was as fake as the rest of her - she only knew how to speak ENGLISH French, not French French.)
When she ate, she was well-coached in everything. She never dropped food from her mouth. She never dipped too deeply into the sauces, and nothing ever dropped onto her breast. She was the very soul of courtesy.
Her upper lip was wiped so clean, that there was never a trace of grease left on her cup after she drank. She reached for her meat with seemly grace, and certainly, she was of a playful nature, very pleasant and amiable of appearance.
She took pains to counterfeit the ways of court, to have a stately manner, and to be worthy of reverence.
But, to speak of her conscience, she was so charitable and pious that she would weep if she saw a mouse in a trap, whether it be dead or bleeding. She had some dogs that she fed roast meat or milk and bread. She cried when one them died, or if someone gave it a hard hit. And all was conscience and tender heart.
Her wimple was creased perfectly, her nose was beaked, her eyes gray as glass, her mouth very small, soft and red. Certainly, she had a broad forehead, almost a span across. Truly, she was not undergrown.
Her cloak was neat, as I was aware. She bore a small pair of coral beads about her arm, decorated with green, and thereon hung a broach of shiny gold. This was inscribed with a crowned 'A' and the words amor vincit omnia.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To understand all that about the nun, let's go over Medieval eating customs a bit. Meals were communal, with everyone gathered together in the biggest room to eat. There was no place setting of silverware, plate and napkin. You brought your own knife to the food fight. In many cases, this was the only utensil you used. In some upper class homes, forks were used, but again, only if you brought your own. Eating with only a knife can be extremely messy, unless one is very fussy and fastidious. As is our nun here. She is prissy to the extreme! Plates were basically slabs of whatever was handy and not totally disgusting. Wooden plates and bowls were common, as were bread trenchers. A large loaf of bread would be sliced horizontally, and the meal piled up on the bread. As the juices soaked in, the bread became sloppier and more messy, but the nun remained pristine. This means something a little more than just a picky eater.
Time to eat that slowly, and meticulously, was not usually available for the majority of laboring men and women. Before Tesla, we worked basically on solar power. If the sun was out, we worked. If it wasn't, we didn't. So any time during daylight hours that was not spent outdoors was wasted. You had to eat - but you did not have to linger over the meal. Run in, down the stew, rush back out. Seems unlikely? When was your last 2 hour leisurly lunch? Our nun, however, is a lady of leisure. She is a religious personage, and so need not rush through sustenance to get back to work. Chaucer shows us her indolence with this description. He also underscores his "deception and duplicity" theme. She is counterfeiting her good manners. She doesn't really come from that background - her French was spoken "after the school of Stratford". If something is done "after" something else, that can be read as "In the manner of" or "copied after"...so our nun didn't have any real French studies in her background. More duplicity, fakery, trickery.
Read through the physical description of the nun...and forget she is a nun. Soft, small red mouth, gray eyes, a spotless breast (or two, one presumes) - now remember - this is a NUN who is being so verbally caressed. Sounds far more like a sonnet to a potential lover!
And I note the detail of the perfectly creased wimple with cynical amusement. Have you SEEN those wimple thingies, how they fold around the face, how they strap in the forehead like prep for ECT? Just who do you think is responsible for all that perfect white linen, creased immaculately...NOT that prissy nun, whose hands are not meant for that kind of work...oh, goodness me no. That wimple was no doubt the labor of some poor undernun or servant (and what is the difference?) who spent a good part of her day making her boss look like something she isn't. And exactly what has changed about THAT in 500 years?
Chaucer begins to exude sarcasm when he described the nun's behavior, however. She is besotted by her dogs, who get fed roasted meet and milk bread. This may get a shrug nowadays. But remember - in the Middle Ages, meat was a rarity. The masses rarely got meat - holidays, maybe. Why do you think that Sherwood Forest was such a poacher's haven? That was the only way the lower classes ever tasted meat - catch it, trap it, kill it for themselves. And of course, the nobles owned all of the land on which that meat roamed...therefore that meat also belonged to the nobles. Men and women literally lost their lives for snaring rabbits to feed their families, because those rabbits were the lord's...and he never said they could have them.
And this pious, holy conscience stricken woman feeds roasted meat to her dogs. The cook that roasted that meat would be beaten, possibly to death, for snagging a sample in the kitchen...but the dogs eat under the table.
Bread. Bread deserves its own blog. but needless to say that fine white bread was something the average Middle Ages peasant would only dream about. It was the nirvana of breads, the ultimate Maui-Wowie stash, the El Dorado of food stuffs. Fine white bread required extra milling of special grains - something that takes time and effort that is not possible under "mass production" conditions. For the masses - a plain heavy multigrain full grain bread was the usual fare. Think artisan bread, seeds and all. Not the most easily chewed chunk. For older dogs, with bad teeth, the inability to chew frequently preceeds the inability to do anything else...and not by much. But our tender hearted nun will soak bread in milk to feed to older, useless dogs. One has to wonder if the wimple creaser will be entitled to as much when she gets old and toothless.
Chaucer's nun is every bit as venal as the monk - but where his love is hunting - hers is love itself. That coral beaded bracelet with the crowned A broach? Amor vincit omnia? LOVE CONQUERS ALL - rather an odd sentiment on a gaudy, gold, coral bracelet on the arm of a nun? Ummm - where are the rosary beads? And the crowned A could be symbolic of either her family (the crown representing nobility) - or the family of her lost love (and who said he is necessarily all that lost?)...in any case, such extravagance in appearance is hardly what is meant by the religious life - where you cast off all worldy belongings and dedicate yourself to serving god in whatever way you are called...so far, it is worldly shit 2...religious fakes 0.
There will be another playoff round tomorrow. Same bat time, same bat channel.
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