illiiiiMS!ill!iiiiii!!:iiiii!!'>rn\;i;'.s' UC-NHl^- THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS AN OPERA •Tl I^^^C^^ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO., Limited LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA MELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. TORONTO THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS AN OPERA THE TEXT BY PERCY MACKAYE THE MUSIC BY REGINALD DE KOVEN THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1916 AH rights raernjed COPVMCHT, 1903, Bv THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Copyright, 1915, By PERCY MACKAYE. COPYKIGHT, I916, By PERCY MACKAYE. This published text of The Canterbury Pilgrims is the property of Percy MacKaye and The Macmillan Company, owners of the international copy- right of the text. The opera. The Canterbury Pilgrims, by Percy MacKaye and Reginald de Koven, is the copyright property of The John Church Company. The right publicly to perform this opera, in whole or in part, and the right to use the same, in whole or in part, for motion picture purposes, is reserved by the owner of the copyright. No public reading of this text may be given without the written pennissioa of the author, and the payment of royally. The author should be addressaid in care of (be', publishers. NoTtDooU Prtss J. S. Gushing Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. PREFATORY NOTE This work, which is an operatic version of my text " The Canterbury Pilgrims " (pubUshed in 1903), was put into its present form by me in the late spring and early summer of 1914. During the same summer Mr. Regi- nald de Koven began to compose his music for it at \'evey, Switzerland, where all of the music was composed by him and completed, together with the orchestration, in the autumn of the following year. In the spring of 19 16 the opera was accepted for pro- duction at the Metropolitan Opera House. New York, where its first performance has been announced to take place during the season of 1916-17. ] PERCY MACKAYE. Cornish. N. H., October, 191 6. 35798S 1 Alisoun's Swains. DRAMATIS PERSONS MEN Geoffrey Chaucer, First Poet Laureate of England. Knight. Squire, his Son. Friar, Miller, Cook, Shipman, summoner, Pardoner, Host. Man of Law. Joannes, the Prioress' Servitor. Richard II, King of England. WOMEN The Wife of Bath {AHsoun). The Prioress {Madame Eglantine). Johanna. CHORUS Pilgrims, Nobles, Choir-boys, Priests, Prelates, Nuns, Brooch-girls, Serving- maids, etc. SCENES ACT FIRST: The Tabard Inn, at Southwark, near London. Time: April i6, 1387. Late afternoon. ACT SECOND : Garden of the One Nine-Pin Inn, at the litde hamlet of Bob-up-and-down, en route to Canterbury. Time: April 19. The afternoon. ACT THIRD : The hall of the One Nine-Pin Inn. Time : Evening of the same day. ACT FOURTH : Before the west Front of Canterbury Cathedral. Time : The next day. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS AN OPERA ACT FIRST Scene: The Tabard Inn at Southwark, near London. When the scene opens, Pilgrims are discovered thronging the court of the inn, seated at tables drinking, or standing by the ale-barrels flirting with the tap-maids. Among them are the Miller, Frla.r, Parson, Plough- man, Franklin, Doctor, Haberdasher, Carpenter, Weaver, Dyer, Tapicer, and Clerk. The Knight, Squire, Yeoman, and others enter soon after, as from horseback. At rise of the curtain, the Miller is raising his tankard, and leading the others in chorus. Oslo. Oh, good ale under the gable Wlien the year is young and green, And a tankard over the table — Is mirth for king and queen ! Then its whoa ! whoa ! Stirrup go jingle, spur go clink : Whoa ! whoa ! Come in, lads ! Come drink ! Tap-maid, here ! Come tipple your man With a kiss on the curve of his can, can, can ! 2 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS [Enter Chaucer, reading in a great volume.] Mil. Ho, here's our vintner, ogling on a book ! Chau. [Looks up, smiling.] A book's a mistress all the world may love And none be jilted. Friar. [Poking his nose in the hook.] What's the psalm you read? Chau. [Pointing at the page.] To Hve a king with kings, a clod with clods. To be at heart a bird of every feather, A fellow of the finch as well as the lark. The equal of each, brother of every man — [He claps the cover shut, a7td laughs at the Friar.] That is my psalm and rosary, sweet Friar ! Mil. [Gruntingly .] Is //za/ thy song ? Chau. [Lifting a tankard.] Good ale, and pilgrimage ! [He sings, as the others join in the chorus.] Ah, God-speed under the rafter Where the road leads forth to Spring, With a lass to quicken the laughter — Is royal wayfaring ! Cho. Then it's whoa ! whoa ! Sorrow go whistle, care go wink : Whoa ! whoa ! Come in, lads ! Come drink ! Here, tap-lassie ! Wheedle your man With a kiss on the curve of his can, can, can ! THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 3 [At the conclusion of the chorus, the Pilgrims hreak into groups, converse laughingly, and drink. The Knight, with the Squire, approaches Chaucer, and greets him courteously.] Knight. I am returning from the Holy Land And go to pay my vows at Canterbury. This is my son. Chau. Go you to Canterbury As well, Sir Squire? [The Squire, turning away with a long-drawn sigh, fingers a flute in his hand.] Squire. Ah, me ! Knight. [With a knowing look at Chaucer.] He is in love ! [As the Squire plays a few lovelorn notes on his flute, Chaucer follows with a twinkling glance and addresses him with an air of courtly melancholy \ Chau. My dearest heart and best beloved foe, Why liketh you to do me all this woe ? What have I done that grieveth you, or said. Save that I love and serve you, high and low ? Squire. [Staring in astonishment.] Your pardon, sir ; those verses are not yours. Chaucer — our poet laureate — he wrote them. [He turns away again, hut continues to watch Chaucer with curious intentness.] Mil. [To the Host.] Ten gallon ale ! God's arms ! I take thee. Friar. What's The wager ? Host. Yonder door ; this Miller here 4 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Shall break it, at a running, with his head. The door is oak. The stakes ten gallon ale. The Voices of Nuns. [Outside.] Laudate, pueri, Domi- num ! Laudate nomen Domini ! Host. [Turning toward the outer door.] WTio's coming now ? Friar. [Peering forth interestedly] Grand folk : a Prioress ! [r/^eHosT bffws low to greet the Prioress, who appears at the door accompanied by a bevy of Nuns and by Joannes, a priest, who carries a little pup in his arms.] Host. Welcome, my lady dear ! Vouchsafe to enter Poor Herry Bailey's Tabard Inn. Pri. [Ignoring him, speaks to the Priest.] WTiere is my little hound ? Joan. 'Tis here, my lady. Pri. Pray carry him before, and carefully. [Joannes goes toward the door, left, which the Miller is preparing to ram with his head.] Friar. The door is locked. Joan. But, sir, the Prioress — Mil. Heigh ! Clear the way ! [With clenched fists, and head doubled over, the Mil- ler runs for the door. The Pilgrims watch and shout.] Pilgrims. Harroo ! Run, Robin ! Ho ! \With a crash, the Miller's head strikes the door and splits it. At the shock, he rebounds against Joannes and, reaching to save himself from falling, seizes the puppy.] Mil. a twenty devils damn him ! THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 5 Friar. Soft ! What ails thee ? Mil. The priest hath bit my hand. Joan. Sweet sir, the puppy — It was the puppy, sir ! Mil. Wring me its neck ! Pri. Help-o ! Alas ! St. Loy ! Will no one help ? Chau. Madame, what may I do ? Pri. My Uttle hound — The churl — My little hound — The churl will hurt it. If you would fetch to me my Uttle hound — Chau. Madame, I'd fetch you Cerberus from Hell. Mil. Lo, masters ! See a dog's neck wrung ! Chau. [Breaking through the crowd, seizes the Miller hy the throat.] Which dog's? Mil. Leave go! — 'Sblood! Take the whelp, a devil's name ! Chau. Kneel ! Ask grace of this lady here. Mil. [Sullenly.] What lady? Chau. Of her whom gentles call St. Charity In every place and time. — Mil. [Kneels, morosely] Lady, I axe your pardon. Chau. Madame, your little hound is safe. Pri. [Nestles the little hound with tender effusiveness ; then turns shyly to Chaucer.] Merci ! My name is Madame Eglantine. [She hurries out, left.] Chau. [To himself.] Hold, Geoffrey ! Why beats thy heart to help a httle hound ? — Ah, Madame Eglantine, unless ye be To me, as well as him, St. Charity ! Squire. Father ! My lord ! 6 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Knight. Well, son? Squire. [Looking at Chaucer.] Sir, saw you ever So knightly, sweet and sovereign a man ? Sir, have you guessed who 'tis ? Knight. To judge him by his speech — Some valiant officer. Squire. Nay, / have guessed ! [Outside is heard the distant voice of the Wife of Bath — Alisoun — joined in chorus by the Pardoner, Shipman, and Summoner.] Alis. When folk o' Faerie Are laughing in the laund. And the nix pipes low in the miller's pond, Come hither, love, to me ! Cho. With doe and with dove, Come back to your love ; Come hither, love, to me ! Host. [At the door, to Friar.] Hist! Who's yon jolly Nancy riding here, With them three tapsters tooting up behind ? Friar. [Staring.] By sweet St. Cuthbert ! Host. Ha ! Ye ken the wench. Friar. The wench? Oho! List, sir: Thy wench hath been A five times wedded and five hundred wooed ; Hath rode alone to sweet Jerusalem And back more oft than Dick-the-Lion's-Heart. She was not born a-yesterday ; yet, by THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 7 The merry mass, when she comes in the door, She maketh sweet-sixteen as stale as dough. Host. She looks a jolly Malkin. What's her name ? Friar. Dame Alisoun, a cloth-maker of Bath. [Outside the song "Come hither, love," bursts into chorus. Enter Alisoun, the Wife of Bath, astride a small white ass, which is fancifully caparisoned like a fairy creature. Spurs jingle on the Wife's boots, and on her head is a great round hat. Followed by the Summoner, Pardoner, and Shipman, she rides into the middle of the floor and reins up.] Alis. Whoa-oop ! — God save this merry company ! [A commotion.] By God, I ween ye ken not what I am : I am the jolly Elf-Queen, and this is My milk-white doe, whereon I ride as light As Robin Good-Boy on a bumble-bee. [Indicating the ass's ears.] These be his wings. — And lo my retinue ! These here be choir-boys from Fairyland ! Come, Pardoner, toot up my praise anon. Pard. & Alis. [Together.] When sap runs in the tree. And the huntsman sings "Halloo!" And the greenwood saith: "Peewit! Cuckoo!" Come hither, love, to me ! With turtle and plover, Come back to your lover ; Come hither, love, to me ! 8 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Alis. Now, lads, the chorus ! [The Swains and Alisoun, joined by other Pil- grims, repeat the refrain in chorus. Re-enter Chaucer and Joannes. Chaucer carries in his hand a crock. The Miller and others of the Swains ofer Alisoun their tankards of ale; hut, spying Chaucer, Alisoun waves them back.] Alis. Nay, Robin, Huberd, back ! Ye are too late, All o' ye ! The Elf -Queen spies her Oberon ! [Wheeling the ass to confront Chaucer.] By God, sir, you're the figure of a man For me ! — Give me thy name. Chau. [Momentarily taken aback.] My name, your Maj- esty? Alis. Make it a swap, man. Mine is Alisoun, And lads they ken me as the Wife of Bath. Chau. My name is Geoffrey. When the moon is full, I am an elf, and skip upon the green. Squire. [To the Knight.] Father, 'tis he : the poet laure- ate ! Ship. [OJ'ering his tankard.] Take this, old girl ! Alis. The devil take a tar ! [Snatches the crock from Chaucer's hand.] I'll take a swig from Geoffrey's. Holy Virgin ! What pap is this here ? Milk and wastel-bread ? Chau. Nay, 'tis a kind of brew concocted from The Milky Way, to nurse unmarried maids. Alis. [Hands it back quickly.] Saints ! None o' that for me ! THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS g Chau. [Giving it to Joannes.] Bear it to your mistress. Alis. [Winking at the Swains.] Mistress ! — Aha ! A woman in the case ! [To Chaucer.] Give us your hand, Sir Elf of the Full- Moon, And help me light adown. — What ! Are ye afeard To take me in your arms ? Chau. Fair Alisoun, Thou art a vision of the ruddy Venus Bright pommeled on the unspotted Pegasus, And I am Ganymede, thy stable-boy ! [He helps her to alight.] Alis. Well swung ! What think ye of my jolly heft ? Chau. Thou art a very dandelion seed And I thy zephyr. Mil. [To the Swains.] 'Sblood ! He steals our wench. Squire. [Approaching Chaucer diffidently, speaks low.] Great Master Chaucer ! Chau. Hush ! Speak not my name. I travel here incognito. [He takes the Squire aside.] Alis. Halloa ! What's struck this jolly company ? Ye're flat as stale ale. Master Summoner, what's The matter now ? Sum. Was it for this I sang " Come hither, love " ? Mil. Aye, was it for this ? — A milksop of a man ! Alis. Geoffrey, ye mean? Ho ! Are ye jealous there? Hark, lads: Myself have made a vow 'twixt here And Holy Thomas' shrine to twig a husband ; But if I hke this fellow Geoffrey, can't lO TEE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS I like ye all ? By God, give me your fists ; Here's pot-luck to ye all, lads. Fetch some ale ! [As they scramble to get ale, Alisoun turns to Chau- cer, who is examining sofne holy relics shown him by the Pardoner. She slaps Chaucer on the shoulder.] Axis. Now, Geoffrey, lad ! Which will ye liever kiss : A dead saint's bones, or a live lass — her lips? [Re-enter the Prioress.] Chau. Why, Alisoun, I say all flesh is grave clothes. And lips the flowers that blossom o'er our bones ; God planted 'em to bloom in laughter's sunshine And April kissing- showers. [Laughing, he kisses Alisoun and suddenly sees the Prioress.] St. Charity ! Alis. Haha ! That time I had thee on the rump. [Laughing, she joins the Swains, where the Friar talks to her.] Prioress. [To Chaucer, shocked.] And you a gentilhomme — at least I thought so Whenas you saved my Uttle hound. — Ah, sir ! Chau. [Penitently.] I will absolve me at St. Thomas' shrine. Pri. [Eagerly.] Go you to Canterbury? Chau. With the rest. Pri. Oh, I am glad. — You see, [At a sign from Alisoun, the Friar listens behind them, unobserved.] I go to meet my brother on the road ; He is returning from the Holy Land ; THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS II I am to meet him at the One Nine-Pin, A tavern at Bob-up-and-down. But — Chau. But ? Pri. I have not seen him since I was a child. I have forgotten how he looks. Chau. [Glancing toward the Knight.] He is Returning from the Holy Land ? Pri. And has His son with him, for squire. He is a knight. Chau. [Looking harder at the Knight and Squire.] A son — his squire ! Good Lord ! Pri. And so, Monsieur, I am boldened by your courtesy to ask Your help to find him at Bob-up-and-down ; Till when — your kind protection on the road. Chau. Madame, I am honored. But how am I to recognize your brother ? Pri. He wears a ring, on which is charactered The letter "A," and after, writ in Latin, The same inscription as is fashioned here Upon my brooch. I may not take it off, For I did promise him to wear it always. But look, sir, here's the motto. Can you read it? [She extends her hand, from the bracelet of which dangles a brooch. The Friar draws nearer.] Chau. I thank you. [Reads.] "Amor vincit omnia." [Looking at her.] "Love conquers all." Pri. \With shy embarrassment.] C'est juste. Monsieur. Adieu! [She goes out hastily.] 12 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Friar. [Making of to Alisoun.] Hist! "Amor vincit omnia." — Sweet Alis ! [After talking aside with Alisoun, he goes to the Knight.] Chau. [To himself — looking at the Knight and Squire.] A morning's canter to Bob-up-and-down ! ''Till when, — my kind protection on the road." She has not recognized this ELnight and Squire. When last they met she was a little child. — A morning's canter : April is the time — Place, Merry England ! Why not Lord Protector Geoffrey? Her brother — why should he protect her? Nay, that will I, for "Amor vincit omnia !" [He turns to get his hook.\ Friar. [To the Knight, whose finger-ring he examines. \ Your ring — how quaint, my lord ! A crowned "A" and underneath a motto. Knight. [Stiffly.] Quite so. Friar. Merci ! [He returns quickly to Alisoun.] Alis. Her brother — the One Nine-Pin ? Friar. Him yonder ! Alis. Good. Friar. Sweet Alisoun, my pay? Alis. Hoot, holy brother Huberd ! Love's reward Is service. [Aside, eyeing Chaucer.] Corpus Venus ! What a figure ! I'll woo him. Aye ; but first to rid me of These other fellows. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 13 [Beckoning the Friar and the other Swains, she whispers to them and they go out. She then comes over to Chaucer, who sits reading.] Ho, candle ! Come out from under thy bushel. Chau. [Peering over the edge of his book.\ Nay, 'Tis a dark world to shine in. I will read. Alis. What is't about ? Chau. The wickedness of woman. [Reads aloud, imperturbably.] "A lovely woman, chaste, is like a rose ; Unchaste, a ring of gold in a sow's nose." Alis. Lo, what a pretty preaching pardoner ! Lo, here's bright Alisoun, the Queen o' May, Blooms like a lily waiting to be plucked, Yet here thou blinkest on a dusty page ! Chau. "Better it is to dwell high on the roof Than down i' the house where woman wields reproof." O, what a list of ladies ! What a world ! Hark, AHsoun ! and after thou hast heard. Repent, and cease to be a woman. Hark ! " Who first obeyed the snake's advice, to thieve The apple from God's Eden? — Mother Eve." Alis. [Tearing a page out of the book, boxes Chaucer on the cheek.] A devil fetch thy drasty book ! Chau. Hold, hold ! Dame Alis ! gentle Alisoun ! [He recovers the torn page.] Alis. You men ! God's arms ! What ken ye of true women ? You stuff a doll and name it Modesty. By corpus bones ! Is not a mare a horse ? 14 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS But no ! Ye sanctify a squeamish mule ; And when an honest wench that speaks her mind, Meets a fine lad, and says out plat: "I love thee — " She is a sinner, and your doll a saint. Chau. Alls, you speak like one in jealousy. Alis. Why, Geoffrey, so I am. To tell thee flat, I'm jealous of thy Lady Prioress. Chau. Peace, dame. Speak not her name with mine. Alis. Aye, go it: Miss Innocence and Master Modesty ! How's that? Chau. [With tone of command.] Dame Alisoun, it is enough. Alis. Why, then, it is enough. Come, lad ; clap hands. I am a bud of old experience Whom frost ne'er yet hath nipped. Therefore, sweet Geoffrey, This Prioress wears a brooch upon her wrist. Chau. Well, what of that ? Alis. Yea, " What of that ? " Good soul I She stops this journey at Bob-up-and-down. Chau. How knowest thou ? Alis. Nay, t'other ear is wise. At the One Nine-Pin she shall meet — Chau. Her brother. Alis. What wilt thou bet she goeth not to meet Her sweetheart — aye, her lover ? Chau. Thou art daft. Alis. Wilt 6e/ me? Chau. Bet away ! THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 15 Alis. Ho, then, it is a bet, and this the stakes: If that my Lady Prioress shall give Yon brooch of gold from off her pretty wrist Unto the man whom she goes now to meet, And that same man prove not to be her brother — Then thou shalt marry me at Canterbury. Chau. a twenty of thee, dame. But if thou lose The stakes, then thou shalt kneel adown and kiss Yon brooch of gold upon her pretty wrist, And pray the saints to heal thy jealousy. Alis. Aye, man, it is a bet ; and here's my fist. Chau. And here's mine, Alis ; thou art a good fellow. Alis. Mind ; if I win, right there we'll be betrothed, And thou must marry me by England's law. Chau. [Laughing.] I'U take my chance. The Swains. [Entering^ in uproar.] Come hither, love, to me! Alis. Here come my choir-boys. [Beckoning the Swains.] Come here, sweethearts ! Hark ! I have made a bet With goodman Geoffrey yonder. Him as helps Me best to win my bet, by God ! he shall Make merry for my marriage. Come, which fellow Will help me ? All. I ! Alis. The best shall make me bride. [A horn is blown. Pilgrims come in, dressed for rid- ing. Chaucer hails them.] Chau. Lordings, who goes to Canterbury ? All. I! 1 6 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Chau. Ho, horses there ! To Canterbury ! All. To Canterbury ! Chau. [Approaching the Prioress, ofers his arm.] Madame, will you vouchsafe to me the honor ? Pri. {With stately courtesy.] Merci ! Alis. [Mocking the Prioress, takes Chaucer's other arm.] Merci ! \With humorous pantomime, Chaucer escorts them both toward the door, as all present, preparing to depart, join in the chorus of Pilgrims.] Cho. Saint Thomas he is a goodly soul ; He heals the world and makes it whole ; He gladdens hearts of every age And hales them forth on pilgrimage. Where Httle larks, as they fly up To share his holy-water cup, In Thomas' name this carol sing : Alleluyah ! Love is lord of Spring ! Saint Thomas' voice is a holy bell ; It sounds where all sad people dwell ; And all who hear lay down their load To ride on Canterbury road. Where mavis, ouzel, thrush and wren Mingle their songs in the throats of men To raise this hymn to his hallowing : Alleluyah ! Love is lord of Spring ! THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 17 Saint Thomas' good and merry voice The ploughmen hear it and rejoice, The yeomen harken on the hills Where April leads the daffodils, Till lover, leper, knight and thrall Ride forth together, one and all. To chant aloud this holy thing: Alleluyah ! Love is lord of Spring ! ACT SECOND Scene: Garden of the One Nine-Pin inn, at the little hamlet of Bob-up-and-down, en route to Canterbury. Enter Chaucer and the Squire. Chau. Boy, what a ride ! Was ever such a ride As ours from London ? — Hillsides newly greened, Brooks splashing silver in the small sweet grass. Pelt gusts of rain dark'ning the hills, and then Wide swallowed up in sunshine ! Hark, hark ! [A cuckoo sounds ; they listen^ The meadow is the cuckoo's clock, and strikes The every hour at every minute ; larks run up And ring its golden chimes against the sun. Squire. Sir, only lovers count the time in heaven. Are you in love? Chau. Ah, over head and heart. Squire. And is your lady kind ? Chau. As angels are ; For she is distant as the evening star — And though I love her, she may never know Nor I reveal my love. Squire. Have you no hope ? Would I might help you, for I am myself Unhappy in my love. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 19 Chau. Nay, then, let me Help you. What's wrong? Squire. Alas, my lady's name ! I cannot tell my love euphoniously. Chau. How so ? Squire. Her name is not poetical. Johanna ! Who can sonnetize Johanna ! Chau. Invent a name to please you. Squire. Euphranasia — I've thought of Euphranasia. Friar. [Pops his head from behind the ivalL] Qui est la? [Dodges down again.] Squire. How like you Helena ? Pri. [Sings within.] A solis ortu usque ad occasum, laudabile nomen Domini ! Squire. Euridice? Chau. [Listening to the Prioress's voice, lifts a spray of honeysuckle on the wall.] No, no ! This spray shall name her. [The Friar peeps over the wall again.] Squire. Eglantine! Music itself ! But, sir, I have an aunt named Eglantine. My father journeys here to meet her now. What matter ? — Eglantine ! Chau. Now Eglantine shall be your love's new name And I will write her verses for you. Squire. [Joyfully.] You! Oh, you are kind to serve me so. Chau. Nay, lad; For, serving so, I solace my own heart. Now leave me, for my heart is fain to sing 20 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Verses to Eglantine. Come back for them At chapel bell. Squire. [Hastening of] I will, and thank you, sir ! And, sir, my lady's home's in Italy. Pray, in your verses, mention Italy. [Chaucer waves to him as he departs, then stands musing.] Chau. Italy ! — Eglantine ! [Entering the arbour, he begins to "write.] Eglantine, O to be There with thee In olive-silvered Italy ! [Enter, right, the Prioress, carrying her little hound. Chaucer sees her, and starts, exclaiming low:] Eglantine ! Pri. [To her little hound.] Jacquette, ma petite, it is a pretty day. See you those clouds? They are St. Agnes' sheep; She hath washed their wool all white and turned 'em loose To play on Heaven's warm hillside. Smell that rose? Chau. Gods ! Must I hand her over — to a brother ! Pri. [Plucking the rose^s petals till the last petal falls.] Pater noster [our Father], qui es in coelis [which art in heaven], sanctificetur nomen tuum [hal- lowed be Thy name]. Adveniat regnum tuum [Thy kingdom come] ; fiat voluntas tua [Thy will be done] ! Chau. Amen ! I must resign ! THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 21 \Ee is about to step from the arbor and discover him- self, but pauses as a shout of the Pilgrims comes from within.] Pilgrims. The Wife of Bath She's a good fellow, A maiden mellow Of aftermath. Pri. [Startled.] Vite, vite, ma petite ! [She hastens to the arbour, where Chaucer quickly pretends to be absorbed in writing. As she is with- drawing hastily, however, he turns round.] Monsieur, excusez moi ! Chau. Madame, the fault is mine ; I crave your pardon. Pri. What fault, Monsieur ? Chau. [Breaks a spray from the arbour and hands it to her] I trespass in your bower. Permettez. Pri. Honeysuckle ? Chau. So 'tis called ; But poets, lady, name it — eglantine. Pri. M'sieur! Chau. May I remain and call it so ? Pri. [Hearing the approach of the Pilgrims, looks tim- orously to him for protection.] M'sieur, this is Jacquette, my little hound. [Chaucer takes the pup ; they retire farther into the arbour, as the Wife of Bath enters from the inn. She is accompanied by her Swains, the Friar, Miller, Cook, Summoner, Pardoner, and Shipman, who enter singing. They lift her upon the table, and form a circle around her] 22 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Pilgrims. The Wife of Bath She's a good fellow, A maiden mellow Of aftermath. She cuts a swath Through sere-and-yellow ; No weeping willow Bestrews her path. Her voice in wrath Is a bullock's bellow ; For every good fellow Eyes she hath. She's a good fellow The Wife of Bath ! Alis. Let's have an elf dance. Come ! [To the SuMMONER.] Thy arm, sweet Puck ! [The Miller, sitting on the wall, plays his pipe, while Alisoun dances with her Swains, each of whom is jealous of the rest. Chaucer and the Prioress still remain out of sight in the arbour. As the music grows merrier, the Prioress begins to click the beads of her rosary rhythmically.] Chaxj. Why do you tell your beads, Madame ? Pri. To keep The fairies from my feet. Chau. The fairies ? Pri. Yes, The pipe has set them free. I feel them twitch me. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 23 Chau. Why drive them away? Pri. Monsieur ! Chau. See you the birds ? St. Francis taught that we should learn of them. Pri. What do they? Chau. Sing, and dance from bough to bough. The Muses sang ; and St. Cecilia danced. Pri. Think you she danced, sir, of her own sweet will? Chau. Nay, not in April ! In April, 'tis God's will. Pri. Monsieur — [Gives her hand shyly to Chaucer.] 'tis April. [They dance, in stately fashion, within the arbour. Forgetting themselves in the dance, however, they come a little too far forward; Alisoun spies them, and, clapping her hands, the music stops ^ Alis. Caught ! Ho, turtle-doves ! Come forth. Sir Elvish Knight, Sir Oberon ! Fetch forth thy veiled nymph, that trips so fair. [Chaucer steps forth from the arbour. The Prior- ess seizes her little hound from the settle and hides her face] All. \With laughter.] Hail ! Chau. Silence, loons ! And thou, wife, hold thy tongue And know thy betters. Alis. Betters ! — Ho ! mind our bet ! When I have won, thou shalt eat humble pie. Chau. Be gone ! And mind you, when you mock this lady, That all the saints, to whom you bumpkins pray, Dance with the Virgin round the throne of God. 24 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS [Some of the Pilgrims retire; others remain staring and bow as Chaucer and the Prioress cross to the inn door, and go within. Alisoun is left alone, biting her fingers in rage. The Friar enters, ap- proaches, and sings with merry mockery.] Friar. Ye lasses jilted, lovers drooped, Rose-lip — Alis. Shut up ! Friar. Rose-lip, white-brow, blue-eye, brown-tress, Confide your pretty hearts ! Confess To the pleasant Friar ; trust not Cupid, — Alis. [To herself .] By Peter! I have the plan ! Friar. [Sings on.] Love is a liar ! But lovers love the pleasant Friar, Who, making of their burdens less — [Here he approaches Alisoun caressingly, and deftly steals a gold pin from her head-dress.] Alis. [Laughing to herself.] Ha ! that shall win my bet ! What, Huberd ! Harkee ! Friar. [Secreting the pin.] Ben'cite ! (Thus singeth he.) Bene-benedicite ! Alis. Wilt thou hear my plan ? List now ! Ye wot I made a bet last night With Geoffrey. This was it : Dame Eglantine, Here at this inn expects to meet her brother. Friar. You mean — Dan Roderigo. TEE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 25 Alis. Aye ; but as She hath not seen him since she was a child, She hath not recognized him. He, ye ken. Doth wear a ring wi' a Latin posy in't. Friar. I know; 'tis "Amor vincit omnia," The same as on her brooch. Alis. There hangs my bet. For if Dame Eglantine shall give yon brooch Into the hands of any but her brother, Then Geoffrey marries me at Canterbury. Friar. Diable ! Marries thee ? Alis. Aye, marries me ! A husband is my holy pilgrimage. And Geoffrey is my shrine ! Friar. Et moi ? Alis. Et toi? Thou helps me catch my bird. [Enter the Miller by the wicket gate.] Friar. Et done ? Alis. "Etdonc?" Why, then, I'll give a farthing to the Friars. Friar. Nay, dame, the coin of Cupid is a kiss. One kiss pour moi — at Canterbury — un baiser ! Mil. [Seizing the Friar.] One pasty, eh ? thou shorn ape ! Friar. [Screams.] Alisoun ! Alis. [Suddenly embracing the Miller, whispers to him.] Whist, Robin, lad. I have a plan. Run fast ; Fetch here the other lads, and bring a gag. Mil. a gag ? For him ? Alis. Run quick. 26 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Mil. [Going.] By Corpus arms ! Friar. [Tauntingly.] Mealy Miller, moth-miller, Fly away ! If dame Butterfly doth say thee nay, Go and court a caterpillar ! Mil. [Laughing, shakes his fist.] Ha, ha ! By Corpus bones ! [Exit at gate.] Alis. Now, bird, the plot ! I've sent him for a gag. Friar. A gag ? What for ? Alis. To win my bet, of course. 'Tis for this Knight, The Prioress' brother, — him that wears the ring With Amor Vincit Omnia. Friar. Ho, ho ! Alis. I bet with Geoffrey ' him who wears the ring Will be Milady's lover.' So, sweet bird, I will enact the lover and the Knight And woo Dame Eglantine. Friar. Thou! Play the Knight? Alis. [Jingling her spurs.] Who else ? I've won my spurs. Hark ! then : Bob Miller With you and t'other lads shall gag this Knight And tie him fast in yonder cellar. There We'll steal his ring and clothes. [Snatching from the Friar's hood a beard.] And I will borrow This false beard from thy tippet. [She puts it on, laughing.] THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 27 Friar. Ho, thou wit Of Aristotle ! [Re-enter, left, Chaucer, in meditation. Alisoun gives a gesture of silence. \ Alis. Whist, now ! Come away ! Chau. [Reads from his parchment \ Eglantine, Otobe There with thee Over sea In olive-silvered Italy ! [A bell sounds outside; Chaucer pauses, and draws out a pocket sun-dial.] The chapel bell ! My signorino soon Will claim his verses ! [Reads on to himself, writing.] Alis. [Aside to Friar.] Eglantine! What's this? Friar. Love verses. He hath writ them for the Squire To give unto his lady-love Johanna, Who comes from Italy. Alis. But he said "Eglantine." Friar. Aye, dame ; he calls Her Eglantine to be poetical. Alis. Love verses, sayst thou ! Filch them, bird, and let Milady Prioress read them ! Friar. Ho, well planned ! A merry plot ! Hide, then, and watch me now. [Alisoun hides by the wicket gate. The Friar obsequiously approaches Chaucer, who reads on, to himself.] 28 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Chau. — In olive-silvered Italy ! There to pray At thy shrine — There to lay This green spray — Friar. Sir, benedicite ! Chau. The same to you ! Friar. The gentle Squire sent me for his verses. Chau. They are just finished. Give him these. [Handing the parchment and a green sprig to the Friar.] This spray Of eglantine goes with them. Friar. [Bowing] Save you, sir ! [The Friar returns to Alisoun. Chaucer, absent- minded, passes on to the inn door, musing aloud.] Chau. April, May, Cannot stay : We be pilgrims — so are they ! And our shrine Far away Is the heart of Eglantine. [Ejci/.] [Enter from the inn, the Knight ; from the wicket gate, the Swains, with rope and a gag.] Alis. [To the Friar.] Quick ; here's our Knight. Go find the Prioress, And when you've given her the verses, join Me and the other fellows in the cellar. [Jerking her thumb at the ELnight.] He'll be with us. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 29 Friar. Thy valet comprehends. Knight. [To the Friar.] Good fellow, have you seen my son, the Squire? Friar. My lord, that dame can tell you. [Throwing a kiss to Alisoun.] Au revoir ! [Then, throwing another to the Miller, he sings as he skips out.] Ma douce gazelle, Ma gazelle belle, Bon soir ! Knight. This woman tell me of my son ! 'Tis strange. Alis. [Aside to the Miller.] Ye ken ! Mil. Aye, aye. [Looking pleased, he speaks to the others aside. During the following scene, all of them approach the Knight cautiously with ropes and a gag, while Alisoun, distracting the Knight, warns or urges them in pantomime.] Knight. Good woman, have you seen — Alis. And do mine eyes behold him once again ? O sir ! The blissful saints requite you, sir ! Knight. For what, good dame ? Alis. His voice ! That I should hear His voice once more ! The vision bursts again Upon my brain: the swords, the sweated horse, The lifted battle-mace, and then his arms. His arms around me — saved ! [Falling at his feet.] Oh, can it be ? Knight. Off me, thou wife of Satan ! Alis. Heard ye that? 3° THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Lads, to the rescue ! Knight. Sorcery ! [The Miller and Alisoun gag the Knight, while the others assist in binding him.] Alis. Quick, Robin ! Take off his finger-ring. Mum, sweethearts ! In, now! [Exeunt omnes, carrying the Knight into the inn cellar. Enter the Squire atid Johanna. Passing along behind the wall, they enter the garden by the wicket gate.] Squire. Johanna ! O my lady, welcome back From Italy ! Whom came you here withal ? Jo. With Spring I came. We heard the snows were thawed In Merry England. Sir, why sent you not Those songs you promised ? Squire. I have writ to-day New verses for you. Jo. So ! What are they ? Rondeaux, Amoretti, ballads, sonnets, odes? [The Squire looks embarrassed.] Well, well? Squire. Nay, I know not. Jo. You know not ! Squire. Not as yet. Jo. You write me songs, yet know not what they are ! Farewell, sir ! [Exit.] Squire. [Hastily following her.] Only wait ! I will ex- plain. [Exit.] THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 31 [Enter, right, from the inn, the Prioress and Friar, the former reading a parchment.] Pri. In sooth, the verse is very beautiful: [Reads.] "Eglantine, O to be There with thee, Over sea, In olive-silvered Italy ! " But, gentle Friar, why in Italy When I'm in England ? Friar. Dame, 'tis poetry : In poetry, all ladies have blue eyes And Hve in Italy. Pri. And is this truly For me ? Friar. He bade me give it — with this spray. Pri. [Taking the sprig of eglantine.] He is so chivalrous ! But I must finish. " In olive-silvered Italy ! There to pray At thy shrine. There to lay This green spray Of our English eglantine At thy feet ! Lady mine. Then wouldst thou say : ' Pilgrim sweet 32 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS In Padua, Take it ; it is thine ' ? Say not nay, Fairest, dearest, far-away Donna Eglantine ! " Friar. Alas, Madame, I did but do my duty. He bade me bring them. Pri. From my heart I thank you. They are very beautiful. Friar. But amorous ! I fear they are love-wQists. Pri. Love ! To me ? Impossible ! He is a gentleman. Friar. How know you, lady ? Pri. By his noble mien. Friar. Who is he ? What's his name ? Pri. I have not asked. Friar. His family ? Who was his father ? Pri. Nay, I know not, yet — Friar. I warn you to beware. — [Pointing at the parchment.] His looks are dangerous. — He writes of love ! Pri. No, no ! It cannot be. [Enter Chaucer. The Prioress addresses Chaucer with naive con- fidence, handing him the parchment.] Sir, is it so ? Are these love verses? [The Friar goes out hastily.] THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS t,t, Chau. [Examining the parchment.] Yes, Madame ! I wrote them. Pri. Ah ciel ! O quelle outrage ! [She turns away.] [Enter the Squire, followed in a moment by Johanna. He hastens to Chaucer.] Chau. [Wonder struck, dropping the parchment, stares at the Prioress.] Madame ! Squire. [Picking up the parchment.] Is this The song? [Glancing at it.] Ah, yes! "To Eglan- tine!" Jo. [Entering, addresses the Squire.] Well, sir, Where are my verses? Squire. [Handing her the parchment.] Here. Chau. [To the Squire, indicating the Prioress.] Why gave you that To her? Jo. [Exclaiming.] To her ! Squire. Indeed, I gave it not. Jo. [Glancing at the parchment, reads.] "To Eglantine!" Chau. [Turning to the Prioress.] Dear Lady Eglantine ! Pri. [Turning from him.] No, no ! Jo. [Fiercely, pointing at the Prioress.] Yes, yes, to her ! Squire. [Appalled, to Johanna.] No, no, to you! Chau. [To the Prioress.] I wrote them not to you. Jo. [To the Squire.] He wrote them ! He? You wrote them not to me ? 34 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Pri. [To Chaucer.] You wrote them not To me? Chaucer. [Indicating Johanna.] For yonder lady. Pri. [Excited to tears] Love verses to her ! Jo. O brute ! What boor is this? Squire. You know him not. 'Tis a noble gentleman. Pri. [ro Chaucer.] Ah me, who are you ? Who was your father, sir ? Chau. a vintner, lady, In London. [Enter Alisoun from the cellar.] Alis. Ha, ha, ha ! God save my betters ! Pri. Alas, the Friar spoke true. Chau. The Friar ! Squire. The Friar ! Friar. [Sings from behind the wall.] Love is a liar, But lovers love the pleasant Friar, Who, making of their burdens less — Johanna, Squire, Chaucer, Prioress, Alisoun. [In med- ley.] Jo. [To the Squire.] O false ! A boor insults your love. Squire. [To Johanna.] Nay, love, 'tis you are Eglantine ! Chau. [To Prioress.] Dear Saint, forgive my trespasses ! Pri. [To Chaucer.] Ah, ciel ! Whom may I trust on earth ? THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 35 Alis. Ha, ha ! The fishes bite the bait ! Friar. [Popping his head above the wall, with a mock gesture of benediction, sings.] Ben'cite ! (Thus singeth he.) Bene — benedicite ! ACT THIRD The hall of the One Nine-Pin inn. Evening of the same day. Outside, the chapel hell is ringing. By the light of a single torch, the Pilgrims are seen putting on their cloaks and hoods, and taking links from a tap-boy, who distributes them. These links, as they are lit, throw an ever stronger light upon the grouped faces and contrasted garbs of the company. With their lighted torches, the Pilgrims pass out of doors, in the direction of the sound of the bell, singing in chorus. Pilgrims. Saint Thomas' voice is a holy bell ; It sounds where all sad people dwell ; And all who hear lay down their load To ride on Canterbury road, Where mavis, ouzel, thrush and wren Mingle their songs in the throats of men To raise this hymn to his hallowing : Alleluyah ! Love is lord of Spring ! [Among the very last, the Prioress — attended by Joannes and the Nuns — is about to pass out, when Chaucer approaches her with courteous supplication.] Chau. Madame, goes she to chapel ? 36 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 37 [The Prioress pauses stiffly.] — Dear my lady, The night is very beautiful. Pri. [Not looking at Chaucer.] Joannes ! Chau. I come to bring you tidings of your brother. Joan. What would Madame ? Chau. The moon — Pri. [To Joannes.] Go ! Go to chapel ! [Joannes and the Nuns go out.] Alors, Monsieur, vous dites — mon frere — ? Chau. Your brother — [Aside as they go out.] Oh, drown her brother ! [Cautiously now the cellar door is opened, and the Miller enters. He whistles softly; some one within whistles in answer.] Mil. Whist ! Is he gagged below there ? Ship. [His head appearing.] Aye, all's tight. [The Miller beckons. Enter the Shipman, Cook, SuMMONER, Pardoner, and Friar, the last being disguised as a chimney-sweep. Following them enters Alisoun, disguised in the garb of the Knight, with a scarlet-lined mantle.] Mil. [Bowing low.] This way, your lordship ! Ship. Save your worship ! All the Swains. Hail, Dan Roderigo ! Alis. [While the Swains assist in adjusting her disguise.] Good my squires, I thank you. [To the Miller.] Bob, sweetheart, lace my boot there, — how's my doublet ? 38 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS God send my virgin sister like my beard Better than me. Friar. Let me amend it, love ! [He kisses her.] Alis. Avaunt, vile chimney-sweep ! Mil. [Kicking him.] Ho, scarecat Friar ! Look ! he has blacked his Friar's skin to save it, For fear that Geoffrey and the young Squire catch him And flay it off. Ship. [To the others.] Let's blab on him. Alis. No wrangling ! Kneel down ! Kneel down, the batch o' ye, and swear — Swear, as ye hope to win this lily-white hand — Ye will be brothers till I win my bet. Out with your oaths, now ! Kiss my foot, and say: By Venus' lip. And Alis' hip, I swear to keep This fellowship ! The Swains. [Severally kissing her extended foot.] By Venus' lip, And Alis' hip, I swear to keep This fellowship ! Alis. Back to the cellar, now, and guard the Knight. Tie fast and gag whoever enters there ; But when I clap my hands — so — and cry " Host ! " Come forth. [To the Miller.] Ye ken? Mil. Aye, when thou cries me "Host !" THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 39 [All hut Alisoun and the Friar retire to the cellar. The Friar peeps out through the outer door, then hurries to Alisoun, with a warning gesture.] Friar. The Prioress ! Alis. Quick ! [They hide in the cupboard] [Enter, from out of doors, the Prioress and Chaucer.] Pri. Parlez toujours, Monsieur ! Parlez toujours ! Chau. How silver falls the night ! The hills lie down like sheep; the young frog flutes; The yellow-ammer, from his coppice, pipes Drowsy rehearsals of his matin song ; The latest swallow dips behind the stack. — ■ What beauty dreams in silence ! The white stars. Like folded daisies in a summer field, Sleep in their dew, and by yon primrose gap In darkness' hedge, St. Ruth hath dropped her sickle. Pri. Nay, yonder's the new moon. Chau. But here's St. Ruth, Whose pity hath reprieved a vintner's son. Your nephew's verses — Pri. Pray, speak not of them ; But now — [Turning to the casement.] Speak of the night ; parlez. Monsieur ! Chau. [Looking forth at the sky.\ Yea, if perchance there were some other star — Pri. Some other star — Chau. O, if beyond our world There were some other star — Some hallowed star, where our two souls might stand 40 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Purged of this passionate clay, And watch where love and youth Hold mass at nature's May-pole ; on that star There would I take your hand, And there I would not say ''I love you !" — not *'I love you !" but "we love." Pri. Monsieur, 'tis true. Chau. To speak the simple truth To you is sweet, Madame. Pri. Merci, Monsieur. [They look forth in silence. After a pause, Alisoun and the Friar peer forth from the cupboard.] Alis. Whist ; are they gone ? Friar. Not yet. Alis. Bones ! are they dumb ? Friar. Art jealous, dame ? Alis. Shut up ! [Alisoun draws hack in the cupboard. The Friar tiptoes of, right, unobserved] Chau. [At the window] Some other star ! Choose, lady : which is ours ? Pri. Yonder cool star, that hides its winking light Like a maid that weeps — but not for loneliness. Chau. Oh, that I were a god, to steal it for you And close it in this locket ! [He seizes her wrist impetuously, gazing at the locket] Pri. [Simply] Nay, that holds My brother's hair. Chau. [Dropping her hand, looks away into the night] We dream ! THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 41 Pri. Of what, Monsieur ? Chau. We dream that we are back in Eden garden, Where the gates of God are shut — and sin outside. Pri. Why, such, in truth, is love. — To hear you speak Is sweeter than the psalter. Do not stop. Chau. Hark ! footsteps from the chapel : [Going to the outer door.] Here comes your nephew with his lady love. — Adieu, dear Lady Dreams ! I go to find The Knight your brother, and to bring him to you. — Adieu ! Pri. Adieu, Monsieur ! [As Chaucer goes out, right.] — Some other star ! [She goes out, left.] [Enter the Squire and Johanna from out of doors.] Jo. So Geoffrey wrote those verses for you ? Squire. Yes ; He called you Eglantine to make them sound Euphonious. But the true Eglantine She is my aunt. That Friar was to blame. Ha, when I catch him, I will make him smart ! Jo. He made us fools. Squire. Then you forgive, though we Have quarreled ? Jo. [Smiling.] Nay, I swear by the old song : Roundabout, roundabout Goes the road to a girl's heart : All who ride in Cupid's cart First they must fall out. 42 TEE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Therefore, lovers, for your moral Remember this : Never kiss, never kiss — Before you quarrel ! Friar. [Sings within.] What ho ! What ho ! Dan Cupido ! A spurless knight usurps thy halls ! — Jo. What's that? Squire. His voice ! It is the Friar. Friar. [Sings within.] Thy fortress falls And all her rosed charms. — Jo. Is't in the cellar ? Squire. Or the wall ? [They look up the chimney.] Friar. [Sings within.] To arms, Dan Cupido ! To arms, Dan Cupido ! \With a rush of soot, the Friar falls into the fireplace exclaiming :] Bon soir ! Jo. Od's fiends ! Squire. [Seizing the Friar, drags him forth.] At last I have thee, Friar. — How ! A chimney-sweep ? Friar. Did scare the ladykin ? Squire. Was't thou who sung ? Friar. You mean the Friar, sir! He's hiding. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 43 Squire. Where ? Friar. In the cellar. Squire. [Giving the Friar a coin.] Show me. Come ! [To Johanna, pointing ojf right.] Mistress, await me yonder. [To the Friar.] Show me the Friar ; I'll flay the scoundrel. [The Friar opens the cellar door. Snatching a candle, the Squire precedes him.] Friar. Ho — a sneaking Friar ! Trust me ; a swindling, skulking, lying Friar ! — rare Bob-up-and-down ! Jo. [Calling after them.] Alas ! take care ! [She goes off, right.] [Alisoun comes from the cupboard. Chaucer and the Man of Law enter, left.] Chau. [To the Man of Law.] Sir, have you seen the Knight Dan Roderigo, Who travels with us toward Canterbury ? Man of Law. What Knight ? Chau. The young Squire's father. He intends To meet his sister at this wayside inn. She is the Lady Prioress. Man of Law. Nay, sir ; 1 know him not. [Pointing toward Alisoun.] Is yonder he ? Chau. Ah, thank you. [Chaucer starts forward, hut stops on seeing he is mistaken.] 44 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Nay, 'tis another man, Man of Law. Good even, sir ! [Exit.] Alis. [Clapping her hands.] Host ! Host — O ! [Enter from the cellar the Miller, crudely disguised in the garb of an inn-keeper. He comes forward grinning and ducking to Alisoun.] Mil. Here, sweet lording ! Alis. [Digging him stealthily in the ribs.] Tell me, host: Hast thou residing in this hostelry A gentle Prioress ? Chau. [Aside, starting.] A Prioress ! Mil. [Ducking.] Aye, aye, sweet lording. Alis. Good ! Go tell the lady Her brother awaits her here. Chau. [Aside, drawing nearer.] Her brother ! Mil. Aye, Sweet lording ! [He starts for the door, left.] Alis. Wait ; be sure to say — her brother, Dan Roderigo ! Mil. Aye, sweet lording ! [He goes out, left. Chaucer approaches Alisoun, who appears to ignore his presence^ Chau. Sir, Your pardon if I trespass. By your cross You come — Alis. From the Holy Land. Chau. And you have friends — Friends at this inn ? Alis. A friend, sir ; a fair friend ; THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 45 By Jupiter, a sweet friend 1 Chau. Ah ! Alis. a sister. She is — a Prioress. Chau. Good God ! Alis. How, sir ! Chau. It cannot be. Alis. Signor ! Chau. Her name ? Her name ? Alis. Perhaps you know her, what ? 'Tis Eglantine. Chau. Impossible ! — Your sister ? Alis. [Confidentially.] Nay, in sooth, You need not spare my blushes. We old lads With beards, who sees our blushes, what ? So, then, This Prioress, she is not just my sister. Chau. No? Alis. No. Chau. What then ? Alis. Vous savez bien, these ladies When they would have a friend, they call him "brother"; So we must humor them, and call them "sister." [Winking at Chaucer.] Therefore this little honeysuckle lady Doth take delight to call me "brother." Chau. Liar ! [As Chaucer lifts his hand about to strike Alisoun, she raises hers to guard; seizing it, he beholds on her finger the Knight's ring.] What ! — "Amor Vincit Omnia ! " — Even her ! 46 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Alis. Take back your lie ! Chau. That ring ! What is that ring ? Alis. St. Madrian ! It is my love ring. She, My Eglantine, gave it me. She wears a brooch To match it on her wrist. [Re-enter, left, the Miller.] Mil. The Prioress, Sweet lording! [Enter the Prioress.] pRi. [Coming forward.] Brother ! — Welcome, brother ! Chau. [Appalled.] No! God ! God ! I'll not believe it ! [He hastens off, calling.] Aubrey ! — Squire ! [Exit, right] [The Miller, going to the cellar door, opens it and beckons. The Swains come out, and gradually draw near to Alisoun and the Prioress.] Alis. My pretty virgin sister ! Pri. [Giving her hand, reticently.] Roderigo ! [Looking after Chaucer.] Why did he leave so soon ? Alis. Put up thy chin. Art thou not glad to see me, sister? Pri. Yea, Mon frere. Forgive me ; I had thought — you see. My nephew — 'tis a pretty mannered youth. — You're not alike, are you ? Alis. [Laughing.] By Peter's toe, I hope not. Saints deliver me from being A new-hatched chicken's feather. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 47 Pri. What ! Your son ? Alis. Next, thou'll be wishing I were like that fellow That fetched me here — yon What's-his-name, yon — Geoffrey. Pri. Why, 'tis a noble gentleman. Alis. Hoho ! Your noble gentleman ! Why harkee, sweet : He told me he's betrothed to an ale-wife. Pri. He told you — when ? Alis. Just now, coming from chapel. Pri. Her name ? Alis. [Stroking her beard, winks at the Swains.] What was her name, now ? — Alisoun, The Wife of Bath, they call her. Pri. O grand Dieu ! That person I Alis. Person ! God wot, 'twas not so Your Geoffrey called her. "Alisoun !" quoth he, "My lily Alisoun, my fresh wild-rose. My cowslip in the slough of womankind ! Bright Alisoun shall be my bride !" Pri. [Throwing herself into Alisoun's arms.] Mon frere ! Oh, keep me safe, mon frere ! [She hides her face.] Mil. [Laughing.] By Corpus bones ! Friar. Look ! Ship. Hold me up ! Pri. [Starting back from the Swains.] These ! What are these ? Alis. Begone, Varlets ! 48 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Cook. [Bowing, as he retires a little with the other Swains.] Oh, aye, sweet lording ! Ship. We know our betters ! Alis. Come, come, what cheer, my httle sister ? How ! Hath that churl Geoffrey wronged thee ? Pri. No, no, no ! Alis. Nay, if the churl hath wronged thee, by this brooch — Pri. Swear not by that. He swore by that. Alis. vile ! He swore by this — the brooch that holds my hair, Thy brother's hair ? Pri. But Roderigo — Alis. What ! Give't here ! Or may be thou hast promised it To him? Pri. No, no, mon frere. Here, take it — keep it. Alis. So ! By this brooch — [Aside.] Now, lads, learn how to woo ! Now, by this golden brooch of Eglantine, And by this little slender wrist of pearl Where once it hung ; and by the limpid eyes Of Eglantine, and by her ripe, red mouth — Pri. Brother, such words — Alis. Call me not brother, sweet ; A brother's blood is lukewarm in his limbs. But mine for thee is lightning. Look at me ! Was Jove a finer figure of a man Than me ? Had Agamemnon such an arm, Or Hector such a leg ? Pri. Forbear ! Forbear ! THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 49 Alis. Alack, she scorns me ! Pri. Help ! Alis. Lo, love, I kneel ! Pri. Joannes ! — Help me ! Save me ! [Re-enter Chaucer, right.] Alis. [To Prioress.] Lovely nymph. Come to my arms — Chau. [To Alisoun, with sword drawn] Embrace me ! Pri. [Going to his protection.] Cher Monsieur ! Alis. God save you, Master Geoffrey ! Chau. Draw! Friar. [Aside.] Lord! Lord! The pot boils. Now to add the salt and pepper. [Exit, down cellar.] [Enter now, from out of doors, in quick succession, all the Pilgrims, returning with their links from chapel.] Pri. [To Chaucer.] Monsieur — Chau. [To Alisoun.] Draw ! Pri. Do not fight, Monsieur, I pray ! Chau. [To Alisoun, who starids laughing at him.] Wilt draw thy weapon ? [To the Prioress.] Is this man your brother? Pri. Oh, sir, I know not ; but he hath insulted — Chau. Insulted you? Enough. By all the devils, Defend yourself ! Alis. [Drawing her sword.] To arms, then ! [They fight, amid uproar and commotion, till Alisoun — ■ being hard pressed — pauses, and holds up the locket of the Prioress.] 50 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Hold ! A brooch — A brooch ! [Enter, right, Johanna.] Chau. [Staring at the locket.] What does this mean ? [Having snatched a warming-pan from one of the Swains, to defend herself in the scrimmage, Alisoun now strips of her beard and wig — her own hair falling over her shoulders — and con- fronts Chaucer.] Alis. Ho, Geoffrey mine, It means this pan shall warm our wedding sheets ! Mil. [In angry dtidgeon.] What devil ! Chau. Alisoun ! My bet is lost ! — Alis. Aye, now I've won, and thou art mine by law ! Pri. [In frightened amazement.] The Wife of Bath ! [The Pilgrims crowd around and laugh.] Jo. [Turning away.] Impostors ! Alis. [To Chaucer.] Come, sweet vintner, And kiss the brooch that hath betrothed our hearts. Pri. Monsieur, is this true ? [As Chaucer turns to the Prioress in a kind of blank dismay, enter, from the cellar, swathed in a long gown, dangling with cut ropes, and pale from his gagging and interment — the real Knight, accompanied by the Friar.] Knight. [To the¥v.iAR.] Where? [The Friar points to the Prioress ; the Knight ad- vances toward her.] Eglantine ! Pri. [Aghast at this unexpected apparition, flees to the priedieu, and kneels.] No more ! THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 51 Chau. [Struck, at a flash, by this medley of incongruities, bursts into laughter, and, seizing an ale-mug, lifts it high.] Alis, I drink to thee and woman's wit ! Friar. God save the vintner and the Wife of Bath ! The Pilgrims. [All but the Miller, who withdraws sulkily, burst into laughing chorus.] God save the vintner and the Wife of Bath ! Ha, ha, ha ! Ho, ho ! Dame Alisoun has drawn her net ; She's bagged her game, and won her bet, And plucked a husband by the primrose path. Ha, ha, ha ! Ho, ho ! ACT FOURTH Time: The next day. Scene: Before the west front of Canterbury Cathedral, gor- geously decorated with tapestries, hatchments, afid cloth of gold. Grouped near by are temporary booths of venders, gaily trimmed. Many Pilgrims are assembled; others keep arriving from diferent directions, talking, praying, and sightseeing. At the Cathedral door a priest blesses with a sprengel those who enter. Outside, left, are heard girls' voices, sing ng. Enter, dressed richly and gaily, Chaucer, surrounded by a bevy of Canterbury brooch-girls, who have wreathed him with flowers and long ribbons, by which they pidl him. Thus they ply him with their wares, while he attempts to talk aside with the Man of Law, who accompanies him. Canterbury Girls. High and low, Low and high, Be they merry, Be they glum, When they come To Canterbury, Canterbury, Canterbury, 52 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 53 Some low, Some high, Canterbury brooches buy. ChA'j. Sweet ladies — nay, sweet Canterbury muses ! Not Hercules amid the Lydian nymphs Was ravished by more dulcet harmonies. [To Man of Law.] You sergeants of the Law are subtle men. Pray — ,, [He offers money, which the Man of Law takes.] Man of Law. If you insist, my lord. Chau. Hush! Not "my lord." — How stands the case ? Man of Law. Why, thus: by English law. No woman may I e wedded but five times. By law, sir, a sixth husband is proscribed. Chau. [With a knowing smile.] You'll vouch for that? — by law ? Man of Law. Sir, I will quote You precedents from William Conqueror. Chau. [With mock despondency.] Alas, my nuptials ! And I would have made So neat a bridegroom ! A Girl. Come, sir. Will you buy ? Another. Take mine ! All the Girls. Mine ! Mine ! Mine ! Chau. Nay, fresh goddesses, Your graces are more heavenly souvenirs ! Sell to me your glances For a poet's fancies ! ^4 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS [Enter Alisoun, attired gorgeously as a bride.] All the Girls. [To Chaucer.] Oh-h ! Chau. How much, Olympians, for your nectar'd lips? All the Girls. A kiss ! A kiss ! Alis. [Intervening.] Hold ! Give the bride first licks ! All the Girls. The bride ! Alis. [After kissing Chaucer.] Now, lasses, come and take your turns ! Lo, what a pot of honey I have won To lure the village butterflies ! Come, pretties : Sip, sip, and die o' jealousy. A Girl. The shrew ! [The girls go off, in piqued laughter.] [Alisoun is about to etnbrace Chaucer again, when he turns to the Man of Law, with mock severity.] Chau. Cold-blooded knave ! Look what you take from me: The flower of women and the wit of wives — Yet I must lose her ! Man of Law. Blame not me, sir ; blame The law. Chau. O heartless knave ! Man of Law. By EngHsh law, No woman may be wedded but five times. Alis. Hey, what ? What devil is that ? Say it again. Man of Law. By law, dame, a sixth husband is forbidden. Alis. How ! You forbid me to take Geoffrey here For my sixth husband ? Man of Law. Nay, the law forbids it. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 55 Alis. Pish ! What's the fine ? Man of Law. To hang, dame, by the neck Till thou art dead. Alis. Aye, man, — by Geoffrey's neck ! Get out ! Chau. [Winking at Alisoun.] Soft! Soft! We'll bribe him. [Winking at the Man of Law.] Sergeant — hist ! [He whispers aside to the Man of Law and gives him money, as if covertly; then he says alotid.] This statute : is there no appeal from it ? Man of Law. A special dispensation from the king ; That's all, sir. Alis. Break his head ! Chau. Nay, Ahs, here's Good news. The king himself is here to-day In Canterbury. I will beg him grant This special dispensation for our marriage. Alis. Thou — ask the king? Chau. Why not ? Alis. Give me a vintner For cheek ! Sweet duck, I do believe thou lov'st me. [Enter the Miller, with the other Swains.] Chau. I am unworthy, love, to match thy wit. Mil. Thou art unworthy, fool, to latch her shoe. Alis. [Intercepting a blow at Chaucer.] Hold, Robin Miller ! Art thou jealous ? 56 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Mil. Aye ! [To the Swains.] Axe her, who gagged the Knight ? Ship. Who tied the Squire? Pard. Who watched in the wet cellar ? Sum. Tied thy doublet ? Friar. Who stole thy scarlet cloak ? Cook. Who kissed thy toe ? Mil. Axe her, what made us do it ? — Mayhap to make Our wench a wedding with this \dntner here ? Ship. Revenge ! Alis. Ho, stand away ! My bridal bet Is won, and Geoffrey is my man ! He's mine. By Corpus nails ! and them as dare to raise A fist at him first deal with Alisoun ! Chau. \WUh mock supplication, as Alisoun, with her fists, keeps the Swains at bay.] Hymen ! Hymen ! hover near ! Shed upon a bridegroom here Showers of thy protecting stars Where his Venus turns to Mars ! Heralds. [Outside.] Make way ! Room for Kling Rich- ard ! Way ! The King ! Pri. [In the crowd.] Shall we see Chaucer now? Squire. He's sure to come. Chau. [Approaching the Prioress diffidently.] Ah, chere Madame ! Vous voulez me condamner ? Pri. [With emotion.] Monsieur ! Monsieur ! You have condemned yourself. Chau. Think gently of me yet a little while. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 57 Pri. I think of you no longer, sir. I come To seek another hero. Chau. Who? Pri. a poet Whom I have long desired to look upon ; They say, he will attend here with the King. Chau. Who is this poet hero whom you seek ? Pri. Dan Chaucer, laureate of chivalry. — I am done with boors and vintners. [She turns away.] Chau. [With a smile, protestingly.] Lady ! Pri. [With dignity.] Silence ! Squire. [Interceding.] Dear lady, hear him ; you know not what you do ! [Enter Heralds.] Heralds. Make way ! Room for King Richard ! Way ! The King ! [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. A silence falls on the Pilgrims as, within the cathe- dral, choir-boys begin to chant a hymn. Issuing from the door, and forming against one side of the massed, kneeling Pilgrims, enters a procession, headed by splendid-vested priests, bearing pic- tured banners of St. Thomas and his shrine, fol- lowed by choir-boys, and lastly by the Archbishop OF Canterbury, with regalia.] 58 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS The Procession. [Sings.] Tu, per Thomae sanguinem Quern 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 Gehennae incondiis 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. As the people rise, enter right King Richard Second, in appearance a fop- pish lad, the Duke of Lancaster {John Gaunt), and followers of the nobility and gentry, among whom is Johanna. The shouts of ^'' God Save the King!" continue till the King and nobles take places in front of the cathedral \ Pilgrims. God save King Richard ! Rich. Thanks, good gaffers ! Thanks ! Arch, and Nobles. [Saluting gravely.] God save your Majesty ! Rich. God save you, too ! [To the Archbishop.] Your Reverence is looking in fine feather. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 59 [To the Duke of Lancaster.] Ho, John of Gaunt, my pretty Uncle Jack, I wish my ruffs were puckered Hke your brows. Dost thou pick faults, eh ? in my Paris gown ? — Par charity ! Lend me a looking-glass ! [Taking one from a courtier's sleeve, he peers into it, makes an amused face at himself, then holds it out toward the lords and ladies, turning it about and thrusting it for them to look into.] A little glass To flatter your faces : Look in, your graces ! And you, sweet ladies. Before it pass Behold here what shade is Your latest passion ; For a little glass May feature an ass As a lion of fashion. Look in, I pray you ! — Nay, alas ! You fear it might betray you ? — Poor little glass ! \With a laugh, he tosses it into the crowd, where it falls and breaks at the feet of Chaucer, who lifts it up, looks in it, and addresses the King with a smile.] Chau. To mirror me, your glass of fashion cracks, Your Majesty ! 6o THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Rich. [Starting with surprise.] God's eyes ! Our laureate ! Halloa there, Chaucer ! Jo. Chaucer ! Alis. Chaucer ! Pri. Chaucer ! [Chaucer bows to the Kmc] Squire. [To the Prioress.] Lady, I said so. Rich. [To Chaucer.] Welcome back to court! When April comes, there's not a man in England But thinks on thee and love. While thou art Eng- land's, And England Richard's, thou art Richard's o^\^l ! [As the King embraces Chaucer, Alisoun breaks away from a Herald, who has been restraifiing her.] Alis. Hold up, your Majesty ! The man is mine. Rich. What's this? Chau. My liege — a blunder. [Chaucer whispers aside to the Man of Law.] Rich. So! How's that? Alis. The man is mine ! Man of Law. [Aside, at a sign from Chaucer.] Your Majesty, Dan Chaucer Bids me explain to you — [He whispers aside.] Chau. Your Majesty, Lo, this is she, the fairy Alisoun, Who late hath wooed me at enchanted inns And so enamoured me, as you have said, With love and April, that — to speak it short — We are betrothed. THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 6i Rich. Betrothed ! Par charity ! Mil. [To a Herald, who restrains him.] Leave go ! Rich. [2^o the Man of Law, who whispers to him.] A miller? Man of Law. [Aside.] Him : that fellow there. Alis. [Nudging Chaucer.J Speak on, sweet chuck ! Chau. "Betrothed," your Majesty : But there your law cries Stay ! Thus saith your law : "No woman may be wedded but five times." — And so, because this wife hath scarce been knit Five times in wedlock, therefore, — saith the law — Our bosoms must be sundered. Mil. [In the crowd.] God be praised ! Chau. Yet of your mercy. King, I now presume To ask you to outleap your laws, and grant This woman — a sixth husband. Rich. By my fay, sir, You ask too much. My laws are sacred. [Aside, to the Man of Law, who whispers him again.] Hein? Alis. Dig him again there, Geoffrey ! Chau. King, have grace ! Rich. [With a furtive smile.] Chaucer, this Man of Law advises me There may be one exception. — Hearken, woman ! I grant to thee the right to wed once more On one condition. Hark 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 slyly; then both burst into laughter.] 62 THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS Herald. If any miller here desire this woman Now let him claim her. Mil. [Rushing up.] Here, by Corpus bones ! Alis. [Kissing him.] Thou sweet pig's eye ! I take thee. [Extending her hand to Chaucer.] Geoffrey, quits ! Chau. Quits, Alisoun ! Frlvr. [Bobbing up between them.] Et moi ? Alis. Et toi ! [She kisses him.] Mil. [Grabbing him.] Hold, Friar ! That pays thee to perform the ceremony. [A medley of sweet bells is heard from within the cathedral.] Rich. My lords and Pilgrims, The holy canopy is being raised ! [The Pilgrims crowd about Chaucer.] Chau. Give me your hands, my friends. You hear the bells Which call us to the holy martyr's shrine. Give me your hands, dear friends ; and so, farewell ! You, gentle Aubrey — bold Bob — testy Jack — Noble Sir Knight — sly Roger — slippery Huberd — All, all of you ! Call me your vintner still, And I ^vill brew you such a vintage as Not all the saps that mount to Nature's sun Can match in April magic. They who drink it — • Yea, though it be after a thousand years. When this our shrine, which like the Pleiades Now glitters, shall be bare and rased stone. And this fresh pageant mildewed history — TEE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS 63 Yet they who drink the vintage I will brew Shall wake, and see a vision in their wine Of merry England and our pilgrimage ; These very faces with the blood in them, Laughter and love and tang of life in them, These moving limbs, this rout, this majesty ; And there, regathered by the Muse In timeless Spring, we'll ride together Once more, immortal on the April roads. To Canterbury — to Canterbury ! [A deep hell sounds.] Rich. My people ! St. Thomas will receive his pilgrims. [The King, Lords, and People, forming in procession, begin to move toward the entrance of the cathedral.] Chau. [To Prioress.] Madame, will you walk in with me ? Pri. Monsieur, If you will offer this at Thomas' shrine. Chau. Your brooch ! Pri. Our brooch. [Shyly ^ Do you forget our star? Chau. Forget our star ! Not while the memory of beauty pains And Amor Vincit Omnia! [The Heralds blare their trumpets; the priests swing their censers; the choir-boys, slowly entering the cathedral, chant their hymn to St. Thomas, in which all the Pilgrims join. Just as Chaucer and the Prioress are about to pass in happily together, the curtain falls.] FINIS Printed in the United States of America. TBIS BOOK IS BUB ON THE I.^«. STAMPED Se^^^^ date LD21-100;;,.7,.40 (69363) ML50.D32.C3 1916 C037528721 U.C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES CD37S267S1 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY ■imniiiiiiiHHnHB