Geoffrey Chaucer and Cultural Confidence - Part 3

The Parliament of Fowls

Since tomorrow, February 14th is Saint Valentine’s day, I think it is a most appropriate time to look at Geoffrey Chaucer’s introduction of Saint Valentine’s Day to the English speaking peoples of the world - ‘The Parliament of Fowls’.

[Note: I have used “a modernised version or translation, retaining Chaucer's rhyme scheme, and close to the original, but eliminating archaisms which would require explanatory notes” by A. S. (Tony) Kline (2007). A free download of Chaucer’s poem can be found here.

While it is not 100% perfect, it is still a wonderful work and an enjoyable effort that gives us humble readers an easily read and easily understood insight into the mind of our English poet, Geoffrey Chaucer.]

Geoffrey Chaucer and Cultural Confidence, by William Lyon Shoestrap

Part 3 – The Parliament of Fowls

Chaucer’s ‘Parliament of Fowls’ consists of 100 short stanzas of 7 lines each – all with the same rhyming scheme. Perhaps he was thinking of Dante’s ‘Commedia’ and its 100 cantos, when he composed it. And here, Chaucer, our story-teller, opens with his musings about Love, and whether it’ll cause him to float or to sink:

The life so short, the craft so long to learn,

The assay so hard, so sharp the conquering,

The fearful joy that slips away in turn,

All this mean I by Love, that my feeling

Astonishes with its wonderous working

So fiercely that when I on love do think

I know not well whether I float or sink. [stanza 1]

But our story-teller recounts that although he doesn’t really know Love, he has read about Love in books:

For although I know not Love indeed

Nor know how he pays his folk their hire,

Yet full oft it happens in books I read

Of his miracles and his cruel ire. [stanza 2]

And he mentions one book in particular – ‘Scipio’s Dream’:

But why do I speak thus? A time before,

Not long ago, I happened to behold

A certain book written in letters old;

And thereupon, a certain thing to learn,

The long day did its pages swiftly turn. [stanza 3]

This book of which I make mention, lo,

Entitled was, as I shall quickly tell,

‘Cicero, on the dream of Scipio’;

Seven chapters it had on heaven and hell

And earth and the souls that therein dwell: [stanza 5]

And he tells the story of how Scipio’s grandfather appeared to him one night in a dream, and tells him where virtuous men go when they die, and Scipio asks him how he can go there when he dies.

[you can read about Scipio’s Dream in my post – ‘Cicero and Cultural Confidence’]

And with this story fresh in his mind, our story-teller falls asleep, and in his dream, he tells us of how Scipio the Elder appeared to him, and brought him to a strange gate:

Scipio the Elder grasped me anon,

And forth with him unto a gate brought

Encircled with a wall of green stone;

And over the gate, in large letters wrought,

There were verse written, as I thought,

On either side, between them difference,

Of which I shall reveal to you the sense.

‘Through me men go into that blissful place

Of heart’s healing, and deadly wounds’ cure;

Through me men go unto the well of Grace

Where green and lusty May shall ever endure;

This is the way to all fairest adventure;

Be glad, oh Reader, and your sorrow off-cast,

All open am I; pass in, and speed you fast!’

‘Through me men go’ then spoke the other side,

‘Unto the mortal blow of the spear,

Which Disdain and Haughtiness do guide,

Where tree shall never fruit nor leaves bear.

This stream leads you to the grim trap where

The fish in its prison’s lifted out dry;

Avoidance is the only remedy nigh!’ [stanzas 18-20]

And he stood there at the gate in confusion, both fearing and wishing to enter, until Scipio shoved him through the gate. And he tells us that upon entering through the gate, he heard the ‘angelic voices’ of the birds:

A garden saw I full of blossoming boughs …

Where sweetness evermore bountiful is …

On every bough I heard the birds sing

Angelic voices in their harmony …

Therewith a breeze that could scarce be less,

Made in the leaves green a noise soft

In harmony with the fowls’ song aloft. [stanzas 27-29]

And he tells of how he spied Nobleness and Beauty, that were surrounded by many temptations:

Then was I aware of Pleasure nigh,

And of Adornment, Lust and Courtesy,

And of Cunning, able and with the might

To force a person to perform a folly –

I will not lie, disfigured all was she –

And by himself under an oak I guess

I saw Delight, standing with Nobleness.

I saw Beauty, lacking all attire,

And Youth, full of games and jollity,

Foolhardiness, Flattery, and Desire,

Message-sending, Bribery, and three

Others – whose names shall not be told by me –

And upon pillars tall of jasper long

I saw a temple of brass, sound and strong. [stanza 32-33]

And outside the temple, he saw Peace, but inside the temple he saw Jealousy:

Before the temple door full soberly

Dame Peace sat with a curtain in her hand:

And beside her wondrous discreetly,

Dame Patience sitting there I found

With pale face upon a hill of sand;

And nest to her, within and without,

Promise and Artfulness, and their rout.

Within the temple, from sighs hot as fire

I heard a rushing sound that there did churn;

Which sighs were engendered by desire,

That made every altar fire to burn

With new flame; and there did I learn

That all the cause of sorrows that they see

Comes from the bitter goddess Jealousy. [stanzas 35-36]

And walking on, he came to see Nature, the queen, and everywhere around her, was every different kind of bird – the birds of prey, the small fowls that eat worms, the waterfowl, and the fowl that live on seeds:

And in a clearing on a hill of flowers

Was set this noble goddess, Nature;

Of branches were her halls and her bowers

Wrought according to her art and measure;

Nor was there any fowl she does engender

That was not seen there in her presence,

To hear her judgement, and give audience.

… And then so huge a crowd did they make,

That earth and sea, and tree, and every lake

Was so full, that there was scarcely space

For me to stand, so full was the place.

… So this noble Empress, full of grace,

Bade every fowl to take its proper place

As they were wont to do from year to year,

On Saint Valentine’s day, standing there. [stanzas 44-46]

Because St. Valentine’s Day was the day in every year, when all the birds would meet to pick their mates:

What can I say? Fowl of every kind

That in this world have feathers and stature ,

Men might in that place assembled find

Before the noble goddess Nature,

And each of them took care, every creature,

With a good will, its choice to make,

And, in accord, its bride or mate to take. [stanza 53]

And the most beautiful bird of all was perched on nature’s hand:

But to the point: Nature had on her hand

A female eagle, of shape the very noblest

That ever she among her works had found,

The most gracious and the very kindest;

In her was every virtue there expressed

So perfectly, Nature herself felt bliss

In gazing at her and her beak would kiss. [stanza 54]

And Nature then addressed all of the birds, and said it would begin with the eagle – the royal fowl, and that every bird should choose his mate according to the custom – the female must agree:

‘And after him in order shall you choose

According to your kind, as you devise,

And, as your luck is, shall you win or lose;

But that one of you on whom love most lies,

God send him she that sorest for him sighs.’

‘But nonetheless, bound by this condition

Must be the choice of everyone’s that here,

That she shall yet agree to his decision,

Whoever it is that shall her mate appear;

This is our custom ever, from year to year;’ [stanza 58-59]

And so the royal eagle spoke:

‘My sovereign lady, with no equal here,

I choose, and choose the will and heart and thought,

The female on your hand so finely wrought,

Whose I am all, and ever will serve her I,

Do what she please: to have her or die.

Beseeching her of mercy and of grace,

As she that is my lady sovereign,

To let me die right now, here in this place.

For certain, I’ll not live in such pain,

Since in my heart is bleeding every vein;

Having regard only for my truth,

My dear heart, for sorrow show me some ruth. [ruth – compassion]

And if that I be found to her untrue,

I disobey, or am blindly negligent,

Boastful, or in time chase after new,

I pray to you, on me be this judgement,

That by these fowls I be all torn then,

The very day that she should ever find

I am false to her or wilfully unkind.

And since none loves her as well as me,

Though she never promised me her love,

Then she should be mine, in her mercy,

For I’ve no other claim on her to move.

For never, for my woe, shall I prove

Faithless to her, however far she wend;

Say what you wish, my tale is at an end.’ [stanzas 60-63]

This eagle so desires her, that if he cannot have her, then he wishes to die, or if he’s ever untrue to her, that he should be torn to death by the other birds. But the female eagle didn’t answer.

And so then a second eagle spoke out, saying he loved her just as well, but he had served her longer, and that is why he should have her:

Another male eagle spoke anon,

Of lesser rank, and said: ‘This shall not be.

I love her more than you do, by Saint John,

Or at the least I love her as well as ye,

Serving her longer in my degree,

And if she should have love for long-loving,

To me alone they should the garland bring.

I dare state too, that if she finds me yet,

False, indiscreet, unkind, rebellious,

Or jealous, you may hang me by the neck!

And if I do not fulfil in service

As well as my wits can, this promise,

In all respects her honor to save,

Take she my life, and all my goods I pray.’ [stanzas 65-66]

But not to be outdone, this second, lower-ranking eagle says that if she finds fault with him, that he may be hung by the neck, or if he does not protect her honor, she may take his life, and take all his possessions too!!!

And then a third eagle spoke, that although all the birds are getting anxious and want to go, he just had to say something, or he would die of sorrow:

‘Now, sirs, you know we’ve little leisure here;

For every fowl cries out to fly, and go

Forth with her mate, or with his lady dear;

And Nature herself would rather not hear,

By tarrying here, half that I would sigh;

Yet unless I speak, I must for sorrow die.

Of long service I may offer nothing,

Yet it’s as possible for me to die today

For woe, as he that has been languishing

These twenty winters, and happens it may

That a man may serve better and more repay

In half a year, although it were no more,

Than some man does who has served a score.

I say this not for myself, since I can

Do no service that may my lady please;

But, I dare state, I am her truest man

And, in my opinion, best seek her ease;

Briefly to speak, till death does me seize

I will be hers, whether I wake or wink,

And true in all that heart may bethink.’ [stanzas 67-69]

And he said that he cannot promise to serve her for a long time – as he may die today of sorrow, and although he can not offer his service to please her, yet he would be truest to her, and until he dies, he would be true to her in his heart.

And our story-teller remarked at these noble pleas of love, that:

In all my life since the day I was born,

So noble a plea in love or anything

Never heard any man but me before,

As would be clear if any had the cunning

And leisure to echo their way of speaking; [stanza 70]

But the day was soon drawing to a close, and the birds were even more anxious to be able leave:

And from the morning did their speech last

Til downward went the sun wondrous fast.

The cries of fowls, now, to be delivered

Rang out so loud: ‘Have done, and let us wend!’

That I thought all the woods to pieces shivered.

‘Come on!’ thy cried, ‘Alas you us offend!

When will your cursed pleading have an end?

How should a judge for either party move

A yea or nay, without a shred of proof?’ [stanza 70-71]

And arguments arose among the birds, until Nature said that one bird from each group could announce their verdict. First was the male falcon, to speak for the birds of prey:

‘It were full difficult to prove by reason

Who loves best this noble female here;

Each so puts forward his justification

That none by argument may be beaten.

I cannot see that arguments avail;

Then by battle it seems one must prevail.’

‘And therefore, peace! I say, so works my wit,

That to me it seems that the worthiest

In knighthood, who’s longest practiced it,

Highest in rank, and of blood the noblest,

Were most fitting for her, if she so wished;

And of these three she herself knows, also

Which that one is, since easy ‘tis to know.’ [stanzas 77, 79]

The falcon is saying that the best knight, the highest in noble rank, should have her hand (such was the thinking at that time, that disregards the woman’s wish). Then the female goose spoke for the waterfowl:

She said, ‘Peace! Now take heed every man

And hear the judgement I shall forth bring;

My wit is sharp, I hate all tarrying;

I advise him, though he were my brother,

Unless she loves him, let him love another!’ [stanza 81]

This, as can be imagined, caused an uproar among the birds of prey – that unless the female decides that she loves him, then he should go and find another wife? And then the female turtle-dove spoke for the seed-eaters:

‘Nay, God forbid that a lover should change’,

The dove said, and blushed for shame all red,

‘Though his lady evermore seem estranged,

Yet let him serve her forever til he be dead.

For truly, I praise not what the goose has said,

For though she died, no other mate I’d take,

I would be hers til death my end should make.’ [stanza 84]

The dove was saying that he should mate for life – even if she doesn’t love him, or if she should die, he shouldn’t take another mate. This caused more uproar. Then the male cuckoo curtly spoke for the worm-eaters:

‘So long as I may have a mate in peace,

I care not how long you all may strive.

Let both of them stay single all their lives!

This I advise, since there’s no agreeing;

This short lesson does not bear repeating.’ [stanza 87]

Again there was more commotion, until Nature spoke:

‘Now peace’ quoth Nature, ‘I command here!

Since I have heard all your opinions,

And in effect our end is yet no nearer;

Finally now this is my own conclusion:

That she herself shall make her own decision

Choose whom she wish, whoe’er be glad or angry,

Him that she chooses, he shall have her as quickly.

For since it may not here resolved be

Who loves her best, as said the eagle yet,

Then will I grant her this favour, that she

Shall have him straight on whom her heart is set,

And he’ll have her whom his heart can’t forget.

This I decide, Nature, for I may not lie;

To naught but love do I my thought apply.’ [stanzas 89-90]

And so, although women’s rights were not very good at that time, nonetheless, our story-teller has stood by Nature’s decision that ‘she herself shall make her own decision’, which may have been quite revolutionary at this time. And then Nature added her advice to the female eagle, that:

‘But as for advice in what choice to make,

If I were Reason, then would I

Advise that you the royal eagle take, [i.e. the first eagle that spoke]

As aid the eagle there most skilfully,

As being the noblest and most worthy,

Whom I wrought so well for my pleasure;

And that to you should be the true measure.’ [stanza 91]

So, Nature advised the female eagle to choose the first ‘royal’ eagle. And I wondered why Nature though him to be ‘the noblest and most worthy’ of the three suitors. And so I went back and re-read the first eagle’s speech, and I came to the part where he said:

‘Having regard only for my truth,

My dear heart, for sorrow show me some ruth.’

This eagle asked her for ruth, for her compassion – he asked for her love – something the other two eagles didn’t do. And as we saw in the earlier part 2 of Geoffrey Chaucer and Cultural Confidence, that in Chaucer’s poem, the ‘Book of the Duchess’, when our story-teller had compassion for the knight, something that was all the knight had sought – compassion.

And then our female eagle asked a favour of Nature, to give her a year to decide:

‘Almighty queen, until this year be done

I ask a respite to think carefully,

And after that to make my choice all free.

This is the sum of what I’d speak and say;

You’ll get no more although you do me slay.

I will not serve fair Venus nor Cupid

In truth, as yet, in no manner of way.’ [stanza 93-93]

And Nature granted her this request, that this was not something that the female eagle should be rushed into deciding, but that she could take a whole year to quietly and calmly think over her decision (something that also must have seemed quite revolutionary for that time). And so the great council of the birds ended:

And when this task was all brought to an end,

Each fowl from Nature his mate did take

In full accord, and on their way they went.

And, Lord, the blissful scene they did make!

For each of them the other in wings did take,

And their necks round each other’s did wind,

Thanking the noble goddess, kind by kind. [stanza 96]

And so the birds would meet again the next year, on Saint Valentine’s day, when some birds would seek a mate, and some birds would return with their answer for their suitors. But before all the birds flew away, they sang a farewell to Nature:

But first were fowl chosen for to sing,

As was ever their custom year on year

To sing out a roundel at their parting

To do Nature honour and bring cheer. [stanza 97]

And when the song was done, our story-teller awoke from his dream:

And with the cries, when their song was done,

That the fowls made as they flew away,

I woke, and the other books to read upon

I then took up, and still I read always;

I hope in truth to read something someday

Such that I dream what brings me better fare,

And thus my time from reading I’ll not spare. [stanza 100]

And perhaps at some time when Chaucer was visiting his friend and brother-in-law, John of Gaunt, he may have told this story to John of Gaunt’s young grandson, Henry. And perhaps, we can read something someday, to see if it did have an effect on him, as when we read what Christopher Marlowe wrote in Shakespeare’s play ‘Henry V’ - that wonderful part (in Act 5, scene 2) when Henry is trying to woo the French princess, Katherine, and he asks her if she could love him.

[Note: Half a lifetime ago, my wife and I were able to perform that short, humorous scene from ‘Henry V’, to the laughter of all who were there.]