No More Learning

'
exclaimed a knight, 'I never learned to plough ; but teach me,
and I will help you. ' But Piers rejected his offer and bade him
6


## p. 14 (#32) ##############################################

14
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
do only those services that belong to knighthood, and practise the
virtues of a kindly lord. The knight promised to do so, and Piers
prepared for his ploughing. Those who helped were to be fed.
Before setting out on his journey, however, he wished to make
his will, bequeathing his soul to God, his body to the church, his
property to his wife to divide among his friends and his dear
children.
Piers and the pilgrims set to work; some helped him to
plough, others diked up the balks, others plucked weeds. At high
prime (9 a. m. ) Piers looked about and saw that some had merely
been singing at the ale and helping him with 'hey, troly-loly! ' He
threatened them with famine, and the shirkers feigned to be lame
or blind, and begged alms. 'I shall soon see if what you say is
true,' said Piers; those who will not work shall eat only barley
bread and drink of the brook. The maimed and blind I will feed,
and anchorites once a day, for once is enough. ' Then the wasters
arose and would have fought. Piers called on the knight for
protection, but the knight's efforts were vain. He then called
upon Hunger, who seized Waster by the maw and wrung him so
that his eyes watered, and beat the rascals till he nearly burst
their ribs. Piers in pity came between them with a pease-loaf.
Immediately all the sham ailments disappeared; and blind, bed-
ridden, lame asked for work. Piers gave it to them, but, fearing
another outbreak, asked Hunger what should be done in that
event. The reply, which contains the author's view of the labour-
problem, was that able-bodied beggars were to be given nothing
to eat but horse-bread and dog-bread and bones and thus driven
to work, but the unfortunate and the naked and needy were to
be comforted with alms. In reply to a further question whether
it is right to make men work, Hunger cited Genesis, Proverbs,
Matthew and the Psalms. “But some of my men are always ill,'
'
said Piers. 'It comes of over-eating; they must not eat until
they are hungry, and then only in moderation. ' Piers thanked
him, and gave him leave to go whenever he would; but Hunger
replied that he would not go till he had dined. Piers had only
cheese, curds, an oat-cake, a loaf of beans and bran and a few
vegetables, which must last till harvest; so the poor people
brought peascods, beans and cherries to feed Hunger. He wanted
more, and they brought pease and leeks. And in harvest they fed
him plentifully and put him to sleep. Then beggars and labourers
became dainty and demanded fine bread and fresh meats, and
there was grumbling about wages and cursing of the king and


## p. 15 (#33) ##############################################

Piers' Pardon
15
his council for the labour-laws. The author warns workmen of
their folly, and prophesies the return of famine.
In passus VIII we are told that Truth heard of these things
and sent to Piers a message to work and a pardon a poena et a
culpa for him and his heirs. Part in this pardon was granted to
kings, knights and bishops who fulfil their duties. Merchants,
because of their failure to observe holidays, were denied full
participation; but they received a letter from Truth under his
privy seal authorising them to trade boldly, provided they devoted
their profits to good works, the building of hospitals, the repairing
of bridges, the aiding of poor maidens and widows and scholars.
The merchants were glad, and gave Will woollen clothes for his
pains in copying their letter. Men of law had least pardon,
because of their unwillingness to plead without money; for water
and air and wit are common gifts, and must not be bought and
sold. Labourers, if true and loving and meek, had the same
pardon that was sent to Piers False beggars had none for their
wicked deeds; but the old and helpless, women with child, the
maimed and the blind, since they have their purgatory here upon
earth, were to have, if meek, as full pardon as the Plowman
himself.
Suddenly a priest asked to see Piers' pardon. It contained
but two lines: Et qui bona egerunt, ibunt in vitam eternam; qui
vero mala, in ignem eternum. 'By St Peter! ' said the priest,
'I find here no pardon, but "do well, and have well, and God
shall have thy soul; and do evil, and have evil, and to hell shalt
thou go. " Piers, in distress, tore it asunder, and declared that
he would cease to labour so hard and betake himself to prayers
and penance, for David ate his bread with weeping, and Luke
tells us that God bade us to take no thought for ourselves, but
to consider how He feeds the birds. The priest then jested at
the learning of Piers, and asked who taught him. 'Abstinence
and Conscience,' said Piers. While they were disputing, the
dreamer awoke and looked about, and found that it was noontime,
and he himself meatless and moneyless on Malvern hills.
Here the vision ends, but passus VIII contains 53 lines more,
in which the writer discusses the trustworthiness of dreams and
the comparative value of Do-well and letters of indulgence.
In this second vision, the satire of passus v is very general,
consisting, as it does, of a series of confessions by the seven deadly
sing, in which each is sketched with inimitable vividness and
brevity. It is significant of the author's religious views, and in
7


## p. 16 (#34) ##############################################

16 Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
a
harmony with such hints of them as he has given us elsewhere,
that these confessions are not formal interviews with an authorised
confessor, but, for the most part, sudden outcries of hearts which
Conscience has wrought to contrition and repentance. The
notable exceptions are the cases of Glutton and Sloth. Of these,
the former has often been cited as one of the most remarkable
pieces of genre painting in our early literature. It presents the
veritable interior of an English ale-house in the fourteenth century,
with all its basenesses and its gross hilarity.
Glutton is moved to repent, and starts for the church to confess,
but, on his way thither, the ale-wife cries out to him. He says he
is going to church to hear mass and confess. 'I have good ale,
gossip; wilt thou try it? ' He does not wish to drink, but asks
if she has any spices to settle a queasy stomach. 'Yes, full
good: pepper, peony, a pound of garlic and a little fennel-seed,
to help topers on fasting days. ' So Glutton goes in, and finds a
crowd of his boon companions, Cis the shoemaker's wife, Wat the
warrener and his wife, Tomkin the tinker and two of his men,
Hick and Hodge and Clarice and Pernel and a dozen others; and
all welcome him and offer him ale. Then they begin the sport
called the New Fair, a game for promoting drinking. The whole
day passes in laughter and ribaldry and carousing, and, at even-
song, Glutton is so drunk that he walks like a gleeman's dog,
sometimes aside and sometimes aback. As he attempts to go
out, he falls; and his wife and servant come, and carry him home
and put him to bed. When he wakes, two days later, his first
word is, 'Where is the cup? ' But his wife lectures him on his
wickedness, and he begins to repent and profess abstinence.
As for Sloth, his confession, though informal, is not sudden, for
the sufficient reason that he is too slothful to do anything suddenly.
The satire of passus vi and vII is directed principally, if not
solely, against the labouring classes. In sentiment and opinion
.
the author is entirely in harmony with parliament, seeing in the
efforts of the labourers to get higher wages for their work only
the unjustifiable demands of wicked, lazy, lawless vagabonds. In
regard to the remedy, however, he differs entirely from parliament.
He sees no help in the Statutes of Labourers or in any power
that the social organisation can apply; the vain efforts of the
knight when called upon by Piers for protection from the wasters
(VII, 140 ff. ) clearly indicate this. The only hope of the re-establish-
ment of good conditions lies in the possibility that the wicked
may be terrified by the prospect of famine, God's punishment for


## p. 17 (#35) ##############################################

The Third Vision
17
their wickedness, and may labour and live as does Piers Plowman,
the ideal free labourer of the established order. The author is
in no sense an innovator; he is a reformer only in the sense of
wishing all men to see and feel the duties of the station in life
to which they belong, and to do them as God has commanded.
Passus VIII is an explicit presentation of this idea, a re-assertion
of the doctrine announced by Holy Church at the beginning of
passus i and illustrated by all the visionary events that follow-
the doctrine, namely, that, 'When all treasure is tried, Truth is
the best. ' The pardon sent to Piers is only another phrasing of
this doctrine; and, though Piers himself is bewildered by the
jibes of the priest and tears the pardon 'in pure teen,' though
the dreamer wakes before the advent of any reassuring voice,
and wakes to find himself hungry and poor and alone, we know
authentically that there lies in the heart of the author not even
the slightest question of the validity of his heaven-sent dreams.
The third vision, passus IX-XII of the A-text, differs from the
first two, as has been said above, in very material respects. The
theme is not presented by means of vitalised allegory; there are
allegorical figures, to be sure, but their allegorical significance
is only superficial, not essential; they engage in no significant
action, but merely indulge in debate and disquisition; and what
they say might be said by any one else quite as appropriately and
effectively. Moreover, the clearness of phrasing, the orderliness
and consecutiveness of thought, which so notably characterise the
early visions, are entirely lacking, as are also the wonderful visuali-
sation and vivid picturesqueness of diction. These differences are so
striking that they cannot be overlooked by any one whose attention
has once been directed to them. To the present writer they seem
to justify the conclusion that in the third vision we have, not a poem
written by the author of the first two, either immediately after
them or even a few years later, but the work of a continuator,
who tried to imitate the previous writer, but succeeded only
superficially, because he had not the requisite ability as a writer,
and because he failed to understand what were the distinctive
features in the method of his model; but students of the poems
have heretofore felt—without, I think, setting definitely before
their minds the number and the character of these differences
that they were not incompatible with the theory of a single author
for all the poems.
It is not intended to argue the question here, and, consequently,
2
E. L. II,
cu. I.


## p. 18 (#36) ##############################################

18 Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
the differences will not be discussed further; but it may be of
interest, to those who believe in a single author no less than to
those who do not, to note, in addition, certain minor differences.
The first writer seems not in the least interested in casuistry or
theological doctrine, whereas notable features of the later passus
are scholastic methods and interests, and a definite attitude
towards predestination, which had been made by Bradwardine
the foremost theological doctrine of the time, as we may infer
from Chaucer and the author of Pearl. Indeed, the questions
that interest the author of passus ix-XI are not only entirely
different, but of a different order from those which interest the
author of the first two visions. Further, the use of figurative
language is entirely different; of the twelve similes in passus
IX-XI four are rather elaborate, whereas all the twenty found
in the earlier passus are simple, and, for the most part, stock
phrases, like 'clear as the sun, only four having so much as a
modifying clause. The versification also presents differences in
regard to the number of stresses in the half-line and in regard
to run-on lines and masculine endings. Some of these differences
begin to manifest themselves in the last fifty-three lines of passus
VIII; and it is possible that the continuator began, not at ix, 1,
but at VIII, 131. Of course, no one of the differences pointed out
is, in itself, incompatible with the theory of a single author for
all the passus of the A-text; but, taken together, they imply
important differences in social and intellectual interests and in
mental qualities and habits. They deserve, therefore, to be noted;
for, if the same person is the author of all three visions, he has
at least undergone profound and far-reaching changes of the most
various kinds, and no mere general supposition of development
or decay of his powers will explain the phenomena.
We proceed, then, without further discussion, to examine the
contents of the later passus. Their professed subject is the search
for Do-well, Do-better and Do-best, or, rather, for satisfactory
definitions of them. What were the author's own views, it is
very hard to determine; partly, perhaps, because he left the
poem unfinished, but partly, also, because the objections which,
as a disputant, he offers to the statements of others seem, some-
times, only cavils intended to give emphasis and definiteness to
the views under discussion. It will be observed, however, that,
on the whole, his model man is not the plain, honest, charitable
labourer, like Piers, but the dutiful ecclesiastic. Other topics
that are clearly of chief interest to the author are: the personal


## p. 19 (#37) ##############################################

Passus IX and X
19
responsibility of sane adults, and the vicarious responsibility of
guardians for children and idiots; the duty of contentment and
cheerful subjection to the will of God; the importance of pure
and honourable wedlock; and the corruptions that have arisen,
since the pestilence, in marriage and in the attitude of laymen
towards the mysteries of faith, though Study, voicing, no doubt,
the views of the author, admits that, but for the love in it,
theology is a hard and profitless subject. There are also inci-
dental discussions of the dangers of such branches of learning as
astronomy, geometry, geomancy, etc. ; of the chances of the rich
to enter heaven; of predestination, and of the advantages as to
salvation of the ignorant over the learned. A brief synopsis of
these passus will make the method of treatment clearer.
Passus ix opens with the author roaming vainly about in his
grey robes in search of Do-well, not in a dream, but while he is
awake. At last, on a Friday, he meets two Franciscan friars, who
tell him that Do-well dwells always with them. He denies this, in
due scholastic form, on the ground that even the righteous sin seven
times a day. The friars meet this argument by a rather confused
illustration of a boat in which a man attempts to stand in a rough
sea, and, though he stumbles and falls, does not fall out of the
boat. The author declares he cannot follow the illustration, and
says farewell. Wandering widely again, he reaches a wood, and,
stopping to listen to the songs of the birds, falls asleep.
There came a large man, much like myself, who called me by name and
said he was Thought. 'Do-well,' said Thought, 'is the meek, honest
labourer; Do-better is he who to honesty adds charity and the preaching of
sufferance; Do-best is above both and holds a bishop's crosier to punish the
wicked. Do-well and Do-better have crowned a king to protect them all and
prevent them from disobeying Do-best. '
The author is dissatisfied; and Thought refers him to Wit,
whom they soon meet, and whom Thought questions on behalf of
the dreamer (here called 'our Will. ')
In passus x, Wit says that Duke Do-well dwells in a castle with
X
Lady Anima, attended by Do-better, his daughter, and Do-best.
The constable of the castle is Sir Inwit, whose five sons, See-well,
Say-well, Hear-well, Work-well and Go-well, aid him. Kind, the
maker of the castle, is God; the castle is Caro (Flesh). Anima is
Life; and Inwit is Discretion (not Conscience), as appears from a
long and wandering discussion of his functions. Do-well destroys
vices and saves the soul. Do-well is the fear of the Lord, and
Do-better is the fear of punishment. If Conscience tells you that
2_2


## p. 20 (#38) ##############################################

20
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
you do well, do not desire to do better. Follow Conscience and
fear not. If you strive to better yourself, you are in danger;
a rolling stone gathers no moss and a jack of all trades is good
at none. Whether you are married man, monk, canon, or even
beggar, be content and murmur not against God. Do-well is
dread, and Do-better is sufferance; and of dread and its deeds
springs Do-best. As the sweet red rose springs from the briar,
and wheat from a weed, so Do-best is the fruit of Do-well and
Do-better, especially among the meek and lowly, to whom God
gives his grace. Keepers of wedlock please God especially; of
them come virgins, martyrs, monks, kings, etc. False folk are
conceived in an ill hour, as was Cain. His descendants were
accursed; and so were those of Seth, who intermarried with
them, though warned against it. Because of these marriages,
God ordered Noah to build the ark, and sent the flood to destroy
Cain's seed.
Even the beasts perished for the sin of these
marriages. Nowadays, since the pestilence, many unequal mar-
riages are made for money. These couples will never get the
Dunmow flitch. All Christians should marry well and live purely,
observing the tempora clausa. Otherwise, rascals are born, who
oppose Do-well. Therefore, Do-well is dread; and Do-better is
sufferance; and so comes Do-best and conquers wicked will.
In passus XI, Wit's wife, Study, is introduced. She rebukes
him for casting pearls before swine, that is, teaching wisdom to
those who prefer wealth. Wisdom is despised, unless carded with
covetousness as clothiers card wool; lovers of Holy Writ are
disregarded; minstrelsy and mirth have become lechery and
bawdy tales. At meals, men mock Christ and the Trinity, and
scorn beggars, who would perish but for the poor. Clerks have
God much in the mouth but little in the heart. Every 'boy'
cavils against God and the Scriptures. Austin the Old rebukes
such. Believe and pray, and cavil not. Here now is a foolish
fellow that wants to know Do-well from Do-better. Unless he
live in the former, he shall not learn the latter.
At these words, Wit is confounded, and signals the author to
seek the favour of Study. He, therefore, humbles himself, and
Study is appeased, and promises to direct him to Clergy (Learning)
and his wife, Scripture. The way lies by Sufferance, past Riches
and Lechery, through Moderation of speech and of drink, to
Clergy.
Tell him you were sent by me, who taught him and his wife. I also taught
Plato and Aristotle and all craftsmen. But theology has troubled me much;


## p. 21 (#39) ##############################################

Passus XI and XII
21
6
6
and, save for the love in it, it is naught. Love is Do-well; and Do-better and
Do-best are of Love's school. Secular science teaches deceit, but theology
teaches love. Astronomy, geometry, geomancy, alchemy, necromancy and
pyromancy are all evil; if you seek Do-well, avoid them. I founded them to
deceive the people.
The author goes at once to Clergy and his wife and is well
received by them. Clergy says that Do-well is the active life,
Do-better is charity and Do-best is the clergy with benefices and
power to help and possessions to relieve the poor. Runners-about
are evil; there are many such now, and the religious orders have
become rich. 'I had thought kings and knights were best, but
now I see that they are not. ' Scripture interrupts with the
declaration that kinghood and knighthood and riches help not to
heaven, and only the poor can enter. "Contra! ' says the author;
"Whoever believes and is baptised shall be saved. ' Scripture
replies that baptism saves only in extremis and only repentant
heathen, whereas Christians must love and be charitable. Help,
therefore, and do not harm, for God says, 'Slay not! for I shall
punish every man for his misdeeds, unless Mercy intervenes. '
The author objects that he is no nearer his quest, for whatever
he may do will not alter his predestined end; Solomon did well
and wisely and so did Aristotle, and both are in hell.
If I follow their words and works and am damned, I were unwise; the
thief was saved before the patriarcbs; and Magdalen, David, and Paul did
ill, and yet are saved; Christ did not commend Clergy, but said, 'I will teach
you what to say'; and Austin the Old said that the ignorant seize heaven
sooner than the learned.
Passus XII opens with the reply of Clergy: 'I have tried to
teach you Do-well, but you wish to cavil. If you would do as I
say, I would help you. ' Scripture scornfully replies, 'Tell him no
more! Theology and David and Paul forbid it; and Christ refused
to answer Pilate; tell him no more! ' Clergy creeps into a cabin
and draws the door, telling the author to go and do as he pleases,
well or ill. But the author earnestly beseeches Scripture to
direct him to Kind-Wit (Natural Intelligence), her cousin and
confessor. She says he is with Life, and calls, as a guide, a young
clerk, Omnia-probate. 'Go with Will,' she orders, 'to the
borough Quod-bonum-est-tenete and show him my cousin's house. '
They set out together.
And here, it seems to me, this author ceased. The remaining
lines I believe to have been written by one John But. They
relate that, ere the author reached the court Quod-bonum-est-
tenete, he met with many wonders. First, as he passes through


## p. 22 (#40) ##############################################

22
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
Youth, he meets Hunger, who says that he dwells with Death,
and seeks Life in order to kill him. The author wishes to ac-
company him, but, being too faint to walk, receives broken meats
from Hunger, and eats too much. He next meets Fever, who
dwells with Death and is going to attack Life. He proposes to
accompany Fever ; but Fever rejects his offer and advises him to
do well and pray constantly.
Will know that this speech was speedy; so he hastened and wrote what
is written here and other works also of Piers the Plowman and many people
besides. And, when this work was done, ere Will could espy, Death dealt
him a dint and drove him to the earth; and he is now closed under clay,
Christ have his soul! And so bade John But busily very often, when he
saw these sayings alleged about James and Jerome and Job and others; and
because he meddles with verse-making, he made this end. Now God save all
Christians and especially king Richard and all lords that love him! and
thou, Mary, Mother and Maiden, beseech thy Son to bring us to bliss !
Skeat originally ascribed to John But only the last twelve
lines, beginning, 'And so bade John But. ' It seems unlikely,
however, that the 'end' which John But says he made refers to
these lines only; certainly, it is not customary for scribes to use
such a term for the supplications they add to a poem. And
it is hard to conceive the motive of the author for finishing
in this hasty fashion a poem which interested him, and which
obviously had such immediate success. For these or similar
reasons Skeat, later, admitted the possibility that the work of
John But began seven lines earlier, with 'Will knew that this
speech was speedy. ' But the same reasoning applies to all the
lines after 1. 56, and an attentive reading of them will disclose
several particulars at variance with the style or conceptions of
the rest of the poem.
In closing our survey of the poems included in the A-text,
we may note that, in their own day, they were not regarded as
directed against the friars, for MS Rawl. Poet. 137 contains this
inscription, ‘in an old hand’: Hoc volumen conceditur ad usum
fratrum minorum de observantia cantuariae.
>
Let us turn now to the B-text. There is no reason to doubt the
current view that it was written, in part at least, between June
1376 and June 1377.
Tyrwhitt showed that the famous rat-
parliament inserted in the prologue referred to the time between
the death of the Black Prince and that of Edward III, and must
have been written while men were anxious about the situation
which then existed. The increased emphasis given to the pesti-


## p. 23 (#41) ##############################################

B-text
23
lences in B, also points, as Skeat suggests, to a time not long
after the pestilence of 1376. To these may be added the allusion
to the drought and famine of April 1370 (XIII, 269–271) as ‘not
long passed. ' No one, perhaps, believes that the whole of the
B-text was written within the year indicated; but it has been
generally assumed that the additions in the prologue antedate
the rest of the B-text. For this assumption there is no reason
except that the prologue is at the beginning of the poem. Two
considerations suggest, though they by no means prove, that B, in
his additions and insertions, did not always follow the order of
the original poem. In the first place, in x, 115 is a promise of a
discussion which occurs in XII. Any one who studies carefully
B's methods of composition will find it easier to believe that B
had already written XII when he thus referred to it, than that he
purposely postponed a discussion. In the second place, it is hard
to believe that such a writer as B, after becoming so thoroughly
excited over political affairs as he shows himself to be in his
insertion in the prologue, would have written the 4036 lines of
his continuation of Do-well, Do-better and Do-best without again
discussing them.
The author of the B-text, as we have seen, had before him,
when he began his work, the three visions of the A-text. Whether
he regarded them as the work of a single author is not our present
concern. In his reworking of the poems he practically disregarded
passus XII and changed the preceding eleven passus by insertions
and expansions. Minor verbal alterations he also made, but far
fewer than is usually supposed. Many of those credited to him
are to be found among the variant readings of the A-text, and
were merely taken over unchanged from the MS of A used as
the basis.
Of the nine principal insertions made in the first two visions,
six may be regarded as mere elaborations of the A-text, namely,
the changed version of the feoffment, the confessions of Wrath,
Avarice, Glutton and Sloth and the plea of Repentance. The
other three, including the rat-parliament and the jubilee passages,
are among the most important expressions of the political views
of B, and will be discussed below. The insertions in the third
vision, though elaborations of the A-text, are more difficult
to characterise as to theme, on account of a tendency to
rambling and vagueness sometimes almost degenerating into
incoherency. The worst of them is the third (ix, 59—121), which
ranges over indiscretion, gluttony, the duty of holy church to


## p. 24 (#42) ##############################################

24
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
!
fools and orphans; the duty of charity, enforced by the example
of the Jews; definitions of Do-well, Do-better and Do-best; waste
of time and of speech; God's love of workers and of those faithful
in wedlock. A few lines translated from this passage may serve
to illustrate the author's mental processes, particularly his in-
capacity for organised or consecutive thinking, and his helpless
subjection to the suggestions of the words he happens to use.
They will also explain why students of these poems have found
it impossible to give a really representative synopsis of his work.
Let us begin with L. 88, immediately after the citation of the
brotherly love of the Jews:
The commons for their unkindness, I fear me, shall pay. Bishops shall
be blamed because of beggars. He is worse than Judas that gives a jester
silver, and bi the beggar go, because of his broken clothes. Proditor est
prelatus cum Iuda, qui patrimonium Christi mimis distribuit. He does
not well that does thus, and dreads not God Almighty, nor loves the saws of
Solomon, who taught wisdom; Initium sapientiae, timor Domini: who
dreads God does well; who dreads him for love and not for dread of
vengeance does, therefore, the better; he does best that restrains himself by
day and by night from wasting any speech or any space of time; Qui offendit
in uno in omnibus est reus. Loss of time-Truth knows the sooth! -is most
hated on earth of those that are in heaven; and, next, to waste speech, which
is a sprig of grace and God's gleeman and a game of heaven; would never
the faithful Father that His fiddle were untempered or His gleeman a
rascal, a goer to taverns. To all true tidy men that desire to work Our Lord
loves them and grants, loud or still, grace to go with them and procure their
sustenance. Inquirentes autem Dominum non minuentur omni bono. True-
wedded-living folk in this world is Do-well, etc.
As will be seen from this fairly representative passage, the
author does not control or direct his own thought, but is at the
mercy of any chance association of words and ideas; as Jusserand
well says, il est la victime et non le maitre de sa pensée.
In the series of visions forming B’s continuation of the poems,
the same qualities are manifest, and the same difficulty awaits the
student who attempts a synopsis or outline of them. It is possible,
indeed, to state briefly the general situation and movement of
each vision, to say, e. g. that this presents the tree of Charity,
and this the Samaritan; but the point of view is frequently and
suddenly and unexpectedly shifted; topics alien to the main theme
intrude because of the use of a suggestive word; speakers begin
to expound views in harmony with their characters and end as
mere mouthpieces of the author; dramatis personae that belong
to one vision suddenly begin to speak and act in a later one as if
they had been present all the time; others disappear even more
mysteriously than they come,
!
+


## p. 25 (#43) ##############################################

B's Continuation of the Poems 25
Even the first of the added visions shows nearly all these
peculiarities. At the beginning of passus XI, continuing the con-
versation of passus x, Scripture scorns the author and he begins
to weep. Forgetting that he is already asleep and dreaming, the
author represents himself as falling asleep and dreaming a new
dream. Fortune ravished him alone into the land of Longing
and showed him many marvels in a mirror called Mydlerd (i. e.
the World). Following Fortune were two fair damsels, Con-
cupiscencia-carnis and Covetyse-of-eyes, who comforted him, and
promised him love and lordship. Age warned him, but Reckless-
ness and Fauntelte (Childishness) made sport of the warning.
Concupiscence ruled him, to the grief of Age and Holiness, and
Covetyse comforted him forty-five years, telling him that, while
Fortune was his friend, friars would love and absolve him. He
followed her guidance till he forgot youth and ran into age, and
Fortune was his foe. The friars forsook him. The reader expects
to learn that this is because of his poverty, but, apparently, another
idea has displaced this in the author's mind; for the reason given
by him is that he said he would be buried at his parish church.
For this, the friars held him a fool and loved him the less. He
replied that they would not care where his body was buried
provided they had his silver—a strange reply in view of the
poverty into which he had fallen—and asked why they cared more
to confess and to bury than to baptise, since baptism is needful
for salvation. Lewte (Loyalty) looked upon him, and he loured.
'Why dost thou lour? ' said Lewte. 'If I durst avow this dream
among men? ' 'Yea,' said he. "They will cite "Judge not! ”
said the author.
Of what service were Law if no one used it? It is lawful for laymen to
tell the truth, except parsons and priests and prelates of holy church; it is
not fitting for them to tell tales, though the tale were true, if it touched sin.
What is known to everybody, why shouldst thou spare to declare; but be not
the first to blame a fault. Though thou see evil, tell it not first; be sorry it
were not amended. Thing that is secret, publish it never; neither laud it for
love nor blame it for envy.
'He speaks truth,' said Scripture (who belongs not to this
vision but to the preceding), and skipped on high and preached.
‘But the subject she discussed, if laymen knew it, they would
love it the less, I believe. This was her theme and her text:
"Many were summoned to a feast, and, when they were come, the
porter plucked in a few and let the rest go away. " Thereupon
the author begins a long discussion with himself on predestination.
It is obvious that such writing as this defies analytical


## p. 26 (#44) ##############################################

26
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
presentation; and this is no isolated or rare instance. In certain
passages where the author is following a narrative already
organised for him, as in the rat-parliament of the prologue, or
the account of the life of Christ in passus XVI, the rambling is
less marked; but, if the narrative is long or elaborate, the author
soon loses sight of the plan, as may be seen in the curious treat-
ment, in passus XIX and xx, of the themes derived from The
Castle of Love. In the instance last cited, the hopeless wandering
occurs on so large a scale that it appears even in the synopses
prepared by Skeat and others. Of the instances which disappear
in synopsis, one of the most interesting is that of Activa-Vita, in
passus XIII and xiv. Skeat's synopsis is as follows: 'Soon they
meet with one Activa-Vita, who is a minstrel and seller of wafers.
Patience instructs Activa-Vita, and declares that beggars shall
have joy hereafter. ' But the significant features are here omitted.
Activa-Vita is the honest labourer, who provides bread for every-
body, but, because he cannot please lords with lies and lewd jests,
receives little reward. He is the friend and follower of Piers the
Plowman. Yet, since he is Activa-Vita, in contact with the world,
he is not spotless. The author therefore begins to tell us of the
spots on Activa-Vita's coat, and, naturally, distributes them in the
categories of the seven deadly sins. As soon as he enters upon
this task he is perfectly helpless; he cannot control himself or his
conceptions; and, consequently, he represents poor Activa-Vita as
guilty of every one of the sins in its most wicked and vilest
forms. The author of the C-text removed these passages to the
confessions that followed the preaching of Conscience in the
second vision, possibly, as Skeat thinks, in order to bring together
passages of similar content and treatment, but, possibly, because
such a contradiction in the character of Activa-Vita was too
gross and glaring.
Recognising, then, the limitations with which every synopsis of
the continuation by B must be received, we may say, briefly, that B
adds seven visions, two and a fraction devoted to Do-well, two and
a fraction to Do-better and two to Do-best. In the first (passus
XI) there is no allegorical action; the dreamer meets various
allegorical characters, such as Fortune, Recklessness, Nature and
Reason, and hears them talk or talks himself either to them or
to his readers. The subjects discussed are, as we have seen, very
various ; but chief among them are predestination, the value of
poverty, incompetent priests and man's failure to follow reason as
animals do. Following this, but not a vision, though it is dis-


## p. 27 (#45) ##############################################

B's Continuation of the Poems
27
tinguished from one only by the fact that the author is awake,
is a long disquisition by Imaginative, containing views concerning
the dangers and the value of learning and wealth very different
from those expressed in A XI. The second vision begins with
a dinner, given by Reason, at which are present the dreamer,
Conscience, Clergy, Patience and a doctor of the church. Again
there is no allegorical action; the dinner is only a device to
bring together the disputants, who discuss theological subtleties.
Following the dinner comes the interview with Activa-Vita de-
scribed above. Conscience and Patience then instruct Activa-Vita
to make amends by contrition and confession, and discuss at great
length the benefits of poverty. The next vision is notable, though
not unique, in containing a vision within a vision. In the first
part (passus XV) Anima (also called Will, Reason, Love, Con-
science, etc. , an entirely different character from the Anima of
A 1x) discourses for 600 lines, mainly on knowledge, charity and
the corruptions of the age due to the negligence of prelates; in
the second part, when Anima, after describing the tree of Charity,
says that it is under the care of Piers the Plowman, the dreamer
swoons, for joy, into a dream, in which he sees Piers and the tree,
and hears a long account of the fruits of the tree which gradually
becomes a narrative of the birth and betrayal of Christ. At the
close of this he wakes, and wanders about, seeking Piers, and
meets with Abraham (or Faith), who expounds the Trinity; they
are joined by Spes (Hope); and a Samaritan (identified with Jesus)
cares for a wounded man whom neither Faith nor Hope will help.
After this, the Samaritan expounds the Trinity, passing uninten-
tionally to an exposition of mercy; and the dreamer wakes. In
the next vision (passus xix) he sees Jesus in the armour of Piers
ready to joust with Death; but, instead of the jousting, we have
an account of the crucifixion, the debate of the Four Daughters of
God and the harrowing of hell. He wakes and writes his dream,
and, immediately, sleeps again and dreams that Piers, painted
all bloody and like to Christ, appears.
Is it Jesus or Piers ?
Conscience tells him that these are the colours and coat-armour of
Piers, but he that comes so bloody is Christ. A discussion ensues
on the comparative merits of the names Christ and Jesus, followed
by an account of the life of Christ. Piers is Peter (or the church),
to whom are given four oxen (the evangelists) and four horses
(the four fathers of the church) and four seeds to sow. A house,
Unity, is built to store the grain, and is attacked by Pride and his
host; but this is forgotten in the episodes of the brewer's refusal


## p. 28 (#46) ##############################################

28
Sequence
Piers the Plowman and its
and its to partake of the Sacrament, the vicar's attack on the cardinals
and the justification by the king and lords of their own exactions.
The dreamer wakes and encounters Need, who gives him in-
struction very similar to that of Conscience in the preceding
dream. Falling asleep again, he has a vision of the attack of
Antichrist and Pride and their hosts upon Unity, which insensibly
becomes an attack by Death upon all mankind, varied by certain
actions of Life, Fortune, Sloth, Despair, Avarice and the friar
Flattery. Conscience, hard beset by Pride and Sloth, calls vainly
for help to Contrition, and, seizing his staff, starts out on a search
for Piers the Plowman. Whereupon the dreamer wakes.
Some scholars have regarded the poem as unfinished; others,
as showing by the nature of its ending the pessimism of the
author. It is true that it ends unsatisfactorily, and that one or
more visions might well have been added; but it may be doubted
whether the author ever could have written an ending that would
have been artistically satisfactory. He had, as we have seen, no
skill in composition, no control of his materials or his thought.
The latter part of the poem is supposed to be devoted in regular
order to Do-well, Do-better and Do-best; but it may be said,
without injustice, that these subjects determine neither the nature
of the main incidents nor the manner in which they are developed,
and that what the author himself would doubtless have cited as
the supreme expression of his view of Do-well, Do-better and
Do-best occurs early in the vision of Do-well—I mean, of course,
—
the famous Disce, Doce, Dilige, taught to Patience by his leman,
Love. He could never have been sure of reserving to the end
of his poem the subjects with which he intended to end, or of
ceasing to write at the point at which he wished to cease. It
remains curious, nevertheless, and, perhaps, significant, in view of
the continual recurrence in the work of B of invectives against
the corruptions of the age, that the poem does end with the
triumph of Antichrist, and that there is no hint, as in Kirchmayer's
Pammachius, of preparations for his defeat and the coming of an
age of endless peace and good.
The reader who has been impressed with what has been said
about the vagueness and lack of definite organisation and move-
ment in B's work may be inclined to ask, What merits are his
and what claim has he upon our interests? The reply is that
his merits are very great indeed, being no less than those rated
highest by previous students of the poems--Skeat, Jusserand,
ten Brink, Henry Morley and a host of others. The very lack of


## p. 29 (#47) ##############################################

The Merits of B's Work
29
control, which is his most serious defect as an artist, serves to
emphasise most convincingly his sincerity and emotional power, by
the inevitableness with which, at every opportunity, he drifts back
to the subjects that lie nearest his heart. Writing, as he did,
without a definite plan and without power of self-direction, he
touched, we may feel sure, not merely all subjects that were
germane to his purpose, as a better artist would have done, but all
that interested him deeply; and he touched most frequently those
that interested him most. These subjects are, as is well known,
the corruptions in the church, chiefly, perhaps, among the friars,
but also, in no small measure, among the beneficed clergy; the
dangers of riches and the excellence of poverty; the brotherhood
of man; and the sovereign quality of love. To these should be
added the idealisation of Piers the Plowman, elusive as are the
forms which this idealisation often assumes. On the other hand,
great as is the interest in political theory displayed by the author
in the passages inserted in the prologue, this is not one of the
subjects to which he constantly reverts; indeed, the only passage
(XIX, 462—476) on this subject in the later passus touches it so
lightly as to suggest that the author's interest in it at this time
was very slight. The frequency with which subjects recur is, of
course, not the only indication of the sincerity and depth of the
author's interest; the vividness and power of expression are
equally significant.
'Let some sudden emotion fill his soul,' says Jusserand, . . . . and we shall
wonder at the grandeur of his eloquence. Some of his simplest expressions
are real trouvailles; he penetrates into the innermost recesses of our hearts,
and then goes on his way, and leaves us pondering and thoughtful, filled
with awe.
Such are:
And mysbede (mistreat) nouzte thi bonde-men, the better may thow
spede.
Thowgh he be thyn underlynge here, wel may happe in hevene,
That he worth (shall be) worthier sette, and with more blisse,
Than thow, bot thou do bette, and live as thow sulde;
For in charnel atte chirche cherles ben yvel to knowe,
Or a knizto from a knave,-knowe this in thin herte. VI, 46 ff.
For alle are we Crystes creatures, and of his coffres riche,
And brethren as of o (one) blode, as wel beggares as erles. XI, 192 ff.
Pore peple, thi prisoneres, Lord, in the put (pit) of myschief,
Conforte tho creatures that moche care suffren,
Thorw derth, thorw drouth, alle her dayes here,
Wo in wynter tymes for wanting of clothes,
And in somer tyme selde (seldom) soupen to the fulle;
Comforto thi careful, Cryst, in thi ryche (kingdom)! xiv, 174 ff.


## p. 30 (#48) ##############################################

30
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
The date usually assigned to the C-text is 1393-8. The only
evidence of any value is the passage iv, 203—210, in which the
author warns the king of the results of his alienation of the
confidence and affection of his people. This, Skeat takes to be
an allusion to the situation after the quarrel between the king
and the Londoners in 1392; and, consequently, he selects 1393 as
the approximate date of the poem, though he admits that it may
be later. Jusserand argues that this local quarrel, which was soon
composed, does not suit the lines of the poem as well as does the
general dissatisfaction of 1397–9; and he, therefore, suggests
1398—9 as the date. Jusserand's view seems the more probable;
but, even so early as 1386, parliament sent to inform the king that
si rex . . . nec voluerit per jura regni et statuta ac laudibiles ordinationes
cum salubri consilio dominorum et procerum regni gubernari et regulari,
sed capitose in suis insanis consiliis propriam voluntatem suam singularem
proterve exercere, extunc licitum est eis. . . . regem de regali solio abrogare.
(Knighton, 11, 219. )
Of the changes and additions made by C we can here say very
little, mainly for the reason that they are numerous, and small,
and not in pursuance of any well-defined plan. There are multi-
tudinous alterations of single words or phrases, sometimes to
secure better alliteration, sometimes to get rid of an archaic word,
sometimes to modify an opinion, but often for no discoverable
reason, and, occasionally, resulting in positive injury to the style
or the thought. Certain passages of greater or less length are
entirely or largely rewritten, rarely for any important modification
of view; never, perhaps, with any betterment of style. At times,
one is tempted to think they were rewritten for the mere sake
of rewriting, but many whole pages are left practically untouched.
Transpositions occur, sometimes resulting in improvement, some-
times in confusion. Excisions or omissions may be noted which
seem to have been made because C did not approve of the
sentiments of the omitted passages; but there are other omissions
which cannot be accounted for on this ground or on that of any
artistic intention. The additions are all of the nature of elabora-
tions or expansions and insertions. Some of these have attracted
much attention as giving information concerning the life and
character of the dreamer or author; these will be dealt with
below. Others give us more or less valuable hints of the views
and interests of the writer; such are: the passage accusing priests
of image worship and of forging miracles; an account of the fall
of Lucifer, with speculations as to why he made his seat in the


## p. 31 (#49) ##############################################

The Author of the C-text 31
north; an attack on regraters; the long confused passage? com-
paring the two kinds of meed to grammatical relations. Still
others modify, in certain respects, the opinions expressed in the
B-text. For example, XV, 30—32 indicates a belief in astrology
out of harmony with the earlier condemnation of it; the attitude
on free-will in XI, 51–55 and xvII, 158—182 suggests that, unlike B,
and the continuator of A, C rejected the views of Bradwardine on
grace and predestination; several passages on riches and the rich?
show a certain eagerness to repudiate any such condemnation of
the rich as is found in B; and, finally, not only is the striking
passage in B*, cited above, in regard to the poor, omitted, but,
instead of the indiscriminate almsgiving insisted upon by B, C dis-
tinctly condemns itt and declares that charity begins at home
'Help thi kynne, Crist bit (bids), for ther begynneth charite. '
On the whole, it may be said that the author of the C-text
seems to have been a man of much learning, of true piety and
of genuine interest in the welfare of the nation, but unimagina-
tive, cautious and a very pronounced pedant.
The reader may desire a justification, as brief as possible, of
the conclusion assumed throughout this chapter that the poems
known under the title, Piers the Plowman, are not the work of
a single author. So much of the necessary proof has already been
furnished in the exposition of the different interests and methods
and mental qualities displayed in the several parts of the work
that little more will be necessary. The problem seems very
.
simple: the differences pointed out and others which cannot
be discussed heredo exist; in the absence of any real reason
to assume that all parts of this cluster of poems are the work
of a single author, is it not more probable that several writers
had a hand in it than that a single writer passed through the
series of great and numerous changes necessary to account for the
phenomena? To this question an affirmative answer will, I think,
be given by any one who will take the trouble to examine sepa-
rately the work of A (i. e. A, prol. - passus VIII), the continuator
of A (A, IX-XII, 55), B and C—that is, to read carefully any
passages of fifty or a hundred lines showing the work of each of
these authors unmixed with lines from any of the others. In such
an examination, besides the larger matters discussed throughout
this chapter, the metre and the sentence structure will repay
1 rv, 835.
9 XIII, 154—247; XIV, 26–100; XVIII, 21; x1, 232-246.
IV, 174–180.
• 2, 71–281.
5 XVIII, 58–71.
8


## p. 32 (#50) ##############################################

32
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
special attention. The system of scansion used will make no
difference in the result; but that expounded by Luick will bring
out the differences most clearly. It will be found that the writers
differ in their conceptions of the requirements of alliterative verse,
A being nearest to the types established by Luick, both in regard
to stresses and secondary stresses and in regard to alliteration.
This can be most easily tested by Luick's plan of considering
separately the second-half-lines. Another interesting test is that
of the use of the visual imagination. A presents to his own
mind's eye and to that of his reader distinct visual images of
figures, of groups of figures and of great masses of men; it is he
who, as Jusserand says, 'excels in the difficult art of conveying
the impression of a multitude. ' A also, through his remarkable
faculty of visual imagination, always preserves his point of view,
and, when he moves his action beyond the limits of his original
scene, causes his reader to follow the movement; best of all for
the modern reader, he is able, by this faculty, to make his allegory
vital and interesting; for, though the world long ago lost interest
in personified abstractions, it has never ceased to care for signi-
ficant symbolical action and utterance. On the other hand, B,
though capable of phrases which show, perhaps, equal power of
visualising detail, is incapable of visualising a group or of keeping
his view steady enough to imagine and depict a developing action.
The continuator of A and the reviser C show clearly that their
knowledge of the world, their impressions of things, are derived
in very slight measure, if at all, from visual sensations These
conclusions are not invalidated, but rather strengthened, by the
fondness of B and C and the continuator of A for similes and
illustrations, such as never appear in A.
Moreover, the number of instances should be noted in which
B has misunderstood A or spoiled his picture, or in which C has
done the same for B. Only a few examples can be given here.
In the first place, B has such errors as these: in II, 21 ff. Lewte
is introduced as the leman of the lady Holy Church and spoken
of as feminine; in 11, 25, False, instead of Wrong, is father of
Meed, but is made to marry her later; in 11, 74 ff. B does not
understand that the feoffment covers precisely the provinces of
the seven deadly sins, and, by elaborating the passage, spoils the
unity of the intention; in II, 176, B has forgotten that the bishops
are to accompany Meed to Westminster, and represents them as
borne 'abrode in visytynge,' etc. , etc. Worst of all, perhaps,
B did not notice that, by the loss or displacement of a leaf be-


## p. 33 (#51) ##############################################

Parallel Passages
33
tween A, V, 235, 236, the confessions of Sloth and Robert the
Robber had been absurdly run together; or that in A, VII, 71-74
the names of the wife and children of Piers, originally written in
the margin opposite 11. 89—90 by some scribe, had been absurdly
introduced into the text, to the interruption and confusion of the
remarks of Piers in regard to his preparations for his journey.
Of C's failures to understand B two instances will suffice. In the
prologue, 11-16, B has taken over from A a vivid picture of
the valley of the first vision:
Thanne gan I to meten a merveilouse swevene,
That I was in a wildernesse, wist I never where;
As I behelde in-to the est an hiegh to the sonne,
I seigh a toure on a toft, trielich ymaked;
A depe dale benethe, a dongeon there-inne,
With depe dyches and derke and dredful of sight.