She killed father Adam and has
poisoned
popes.
Cambridge History of English Literature - 1908 - v02
Robin Hood.
Babylon. The maid freed from the gallows. The making of
ballads. General outlines of ballad progress. Sources of ballads.
Riddle ballads. The epic tendency. Balladry in rags. Ballads of
domestic tragedy. Child Waters. Funeral ballads. The historical
ballad. The greenwood. Sources and aesthetic values of ballads
as a whole.
395
CHAPTER XVIII
POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS VERSE TO THE CLOSE OF
THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY-FINAL WORDS
By A. R. WALLER, M. A. , Peterhouse.
Anglo-Norman writings. L'Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal. The
Vows of the Heron. The Lollards. The Libel of English Policy.
Jack Napes' Soul, Lyrics and carols. The religious plays.
.
Didactio literature. Robin Hood. The fifteenth century
419
430
.
432
.
Appendix to chapter II .
Bibliographies .
Table of principal dates.
Index .
510
513
## p. 1 (#19) ###############################################
CHAPTER I
PIERS THE PLOWMAN AND ITS SEQUENCE
FEw poems of the Middle Ages have had a stranger fate than
those grouped under the general title of The Vision of William
concerning Piers the Plowman. Obviously very popular in the
latter half of the fourteenth century, the time of their composition,
they remained popular throughout the fifteenth century, were
regarded in the sixteenth by the leaders of the reformation as an
inspiration and a prophecy, and, in modern times, have been
quoted by every historian of the fourteenth century as the most
vivid and trustworthy source for the social and economic history
of the time. Yet their early popularity has resulted in the
confusion of what is really the work of five different men, and in
the creation of a mythical author of all these poems and one other;
and the nature of the interest of the sixteenth century reformers
has caused a misunderstanding of the objects and aims of the
satire contained in the poems separately and collectively. Worst
of all, perhaps, the failure of modern scholars to distinguish the
presence of several hands in the poems has resulted in a general
charge of vagueness and obscurity, which has not even spared
a portion of the work remarkable for its clearness and definiteness
and structural excellence.
Before taking up any of the problems just suggested, we may
recall briefly certain undisputed facts as to the form of the poems.
They are written throughout in alliterative verse of the same
general type as that of Beowulf and other Old English poems, and,
at first sight, seem to form one long poem, extant in versions
differing somewhat from one another. As Skeat has conclusively
shown in his monumental editions of the texts, there are three
principal versions or texts, which he designates the A-text, the
B-text and the C-text, or the Vernon, the Crowley and the
Whitaker versions respectively. The A-text, or Vernon version,
consists of three visions supposed to come to the author while
1
E. L. II.
CH, I.
## p. 2 (#20) ###############################################
2
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
sleeping beside a stream among the Malvern hills. The first of
these, occupying the prologue and passus 1-10, is the vision of
the field full of folk—a symbol of the world—and Holy Church
and Lady Meed; the second, occupying passus V–VIII, is the
vision of Piers the Plowman and the crowd of penitents whom he
leads in search of Saint Truth; the third, occupying passus IX-XII,
is a vision in which the dreamer goes in search of Do-well, Do-better
and Do-best, but is attacked by hunger and fever and dies ere his
quest is accomplished. The B-text and the C-text are successive
modifications and expansions of the A-text.
Let us turn now from fact to theory. The two principal
authorities, Skeat and Jusserand, though differing in details, agree,
in the main, in the account they give of the poems and the author;
and their account is very generally accepted. It is as follows.
The author was William Langland (or Langley), born about 1331—2
at Cleobury Mortimer, 32 miles S. S. E. from Shrewsbury and 137
N. W. from London, and educated in the school of the Benedictine
monastery at Malvern, among the hills S. W. of Worcester.
Whether he was the son of freemen (Skeat's view) or of serfs
(Jusserand's view), he was, at any rate, educated for the church
and probably took minor orders; but, because of his temperament,
his opinions, his marriage, or his lack of influential friends, he never
rose in the church. At some unknown date, possibly before 1362,
he removed to London and made a scanty living by singing masses,
copying legal documents and other similar casual occupations.
In 1362, he began his famous poems, writing first the vision of
Lady Meed and the vision of Piers the Plowman.
Perhaps im-
mediately, perhaps after an interval of some time, he added to these
the vision of Do-well, Do-better and Do-best. This first version of
these poems constitutes what is now called the A-text of Piers the
Plowman. But, according to the current view, the author did not
leave matters thus. Encouraged by the success of his work and
impelled by his increasing indignation at the corruptions of the
age, he took up his poem again in 1377 and expanded it to more
than twice its original length. The lines of the earlier version he
left essentially unchanged; but he inserted, here and there, additions
of greater or less length, suggested now by some word or phrase of
the original text, now by events in the world about him and his
meditations on them; and he rejected the whole of the final
passus, containing an imaginary account of his death, to replace it
by a continuation of the vision of Do-well, Do-better and Do-best
longer than the whole of the original version of the poem. The
## p. 3 (#21) ###############################################
The Three Texts
3
A-text had contained a prologue and four passus (or cantos) of the
vision of Lady Meed, four passus of the vision of Piers the
Plowman and four passus of the vision of Do-well, Do-better and
Do-best, or twelve passus in all, with a total of 2567 lines. The
B-text runs parallel to this to the end of passus XI (but with 3206
lines instead of 2467), and then continues for nine more passus,
making a total of 7242 lines. The author's active interest in his
poem did not cease here, however, for he subjected it to another
revision, about 1393 (according to Skeat) or 1398 (according to
Jusserand). This revision is known as the C-text. Its relation to
the B-text may be roughly stated as consisting in the insertion of
a few passages, the rearrangement of a considerable number and
the rewriting of a number of others with more or less change of
content or of emphasis, but, on the whole, as involving no such
striking differences from the B-text as exist between that and the
A-text. This latest version numbers 7357 lines as against the
7242 of the second version.
Skeat and Jusserand ascribe to the same author another poem
in 'alliterative verse, commonly known as Richard the Redeless,
concerning the last years of the reign of Richard II. This poem,
which, as we have it, is a fragment, was, Skeat thinks, written
between the capture and the formal deposition of Richard in 1399,
and was, perhaps, left unfinished by the author in consequence of
the fate of the king.
The evidence relied upon to prove that all these poems were
the work of a single author is entirely the internal evidence of the
poems themselves, supposed similarity in ideas, style, diction, etc. ,
together with the difficulty of supposing the existence, at, approxi-
mately, the same time, of several unknown writers of such ability
as is displayed in these poems. Undoubtedly, the first impulse of
any student of a group of poems related as these are is to assume
that they are the work of a single author, and that any statements
made in the poems concerning the personality and experiences of
the dreamer are autobiographical revelations. Moreover, in this
particular case, it will be remembered, each of the two later
versions incorporates with its additions the preceding version;
and, as the C-text, on account of the larger mass of material in it,
has received the almost exclusive attention of scholars, the
impression of the style and other literary qualities gained by the
modern student has, necessarily, been a composite of the qualities
of the three texts and not a distinct sense of the qualities of each
and the differences between them,
1-2
## p. 4 (#22) ###############################################
4
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
Such differences do exist, and in the greatest number and
variety. There are differences in diction, in metre, in sentence
structure, in methods of organising material, in number and kind
of rhetorical devices, in power of visualising objects and scenes
presented, in topics of interest to the author and in views on
social, theological and various miscellaneous questions. Some of
these have, indeed, been observed and discussed by previous
writers, but they have always been explained as due to such
changes as might occur in any man's mental qualities and views
of life in the course of thirty or thirty-five years, the interval
between the earliest and the latest version. To the present writer
the differences seem of such a nature as not to admit of such an
explanation; and this opinion is confirmed by the existence of
certain passages in which the authors of the later versions have
failed to understand their predecessors.
This is, of course, not the place for polemics or for a detailed
examination of all the problems suggested by the poems. Our
principal concern is with the poems themselves as literary monu-
ments and, if it may be, with their author or authors. But, for
this very reason, it seems necessary to present the poems in such
a way as to enable the student to decide for himself between the
two theories of authorship, inasmuch as this decision carries with
it important conclusions concerning the literary values of the
poems, the mental qualities of the authors and the intellectual
activity of the age to which they belong. Fortunately, such a
presentation is precisely that which will best set forth the contents
of the poems and their qualities.
Let us examine first the prologue and passus I-VIII of the
A-text. This is not an arbitrary dismemberment of a poem. The
two visions included in these passus are intimately connected with
each other and definitely separated from what follows. At the
beginning of the prologue the dreamer goes to sleep among the
Malvern hills and sees a vision of the world in the guise of a field
full of folk thronging a valley bounded on one side by a cliff, on
which stands the tower of Truth, and, on the other, by a deep
dale, in which, surrounded by a dark moat, lies the dungeon of
Wrong. Within this valley begin the incidents of his first vision,
and, though they range far, there is never any suggestion of
discontinuity; at the end of the vision the dreamer wakes for only
a moment, and, immediately falling asleep, sees again the same
field of folk and another series of events unfolding themselves in
rapid succession beneath the cliff with its high-built tower, until,
>
## p. 5 (#23) ###############################################
The Crowd in the Valley
5
a
finally, he wakes 'meatless and moneyless in Malvern hills. ' The
third vision, on the other hand, has no connection with Malvern
hills; the dreamer sees nothing of his valley, with the folk and the
tower and the dungeon; indeed, this is not a vision at all in the
sense of the first two, but, rather, a series of dream-visits and
dream-discussions, the like of which cannot be found in the first
two visions. Skeat himself has recognised the close connection
between the first two visions, and has suggested that the third
may have been written after a considerable interval.
Each of the first two visions in the A-text is, contrary to the
usual opinion, distinguished by remarkable unity of structure,
directness of movement and freedom from digression of any sort.
The author marshals his dream-figures with marvellous swiftness,
but with unerring hand; he never himself forgets for a moment
the relation of any incident to his whole plan, nor allows his reader
to forget it, or to feel at a loss as to its meaning or its place.
We first see, with the vividness of the dreamer's own vision, the
thronging crowd in the valley beneath the tower of Truth and
hovering on the brink of the dark dale. People of all sorts are
there—the poor and the rich, saints and sinners of every variety,
living as they live in the world. Singly and in groups they pass
before us, each noted by the poet with a word or a phrase that gives
us their very form and pressure. Satire there is, but it is satire
which does not impede the movement of the thronged dream, satire
which flashes and plays about the object, revealing its inner nature
by a word, an epithet, a brief phrase. We see the false beggars
,
shamming for food and fighting at the ale-house, 'great lubbers
and long that loth were to labour'; the friars, 'preaching the
people for profit of their bellies'; the pardoner, surrounded by
the crowd of ignorant believers, whom he deceives with his papal
bull and his fair speech; and the corrupt priest, taking his share
of the ill-gotten gains, while the bishop, who is not 'worth his two
ears,' refuses to interfere. Then come a hundred lawyers in hoods
of silk, ready to undertake any cause for money, but refusing 'to
unloose their lips once for love of our Lord'; 'you could more
easily,' says the poet, ‘measure the mist on Malvern hills than get
a mum of their mouths unless money were showed. ' After them
appears a confused throng of churchmen of all degrees, all
'leaping to London' to seek worldly offices and wealth. Wasters
there are, and idle labourers 'that do their deeds ill and drive
forth the long day with singing Dieu save Dame Emme! ' Along
with the satire there is commendation, now for the ploughmen who
## p. 6 (#24) ###############################################
6 Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
work hard and play seldom; now, of a higher sort, for pious nuns
and hermits; now, for honest merchants; now, even for harmless
minstrels who 'get gold with their glee. ' But, neither satire nor
commendation delays even for a moment our rapid survey of this
marvellous motley crowd, or detracts from our feeling that, in this
valley of vision, the world in miniature is visibly moving, living,
working, cheating, praying, singing, crying for sale its ‘hot pies,'
its ‘good geese and pigs,' its 'white wine and red. '
The author, having thus, in his prologue, set before us the
vision first presented to the eyes of his mind, proceeds to interpret
it. This he does characteristically by a further development of
the dream itself.
A lovely lady comes down from the cliff and says to the
dreamer:
Son, seest thou this people, how engrossed they are in this confusion ?
The most part of the people that pass now on earth, if they have success in
this world, care for nothing else; of other heaven than here they take no
account.
The impression already made upon us by this strange majestic
figure is deepened by the author's vivid comment, 'I was afeard of
her face, fair though she was, and said, “Mercy, my lady; what is
the meaning of this? ” The tower, she explains, is the dwelling
of Truth, the Father of our faith, who formed us all and com-
manded the earth to serve mankind with all things needful. He
has given food and drink and clothing to suffice for all, but to be
used with moderation, for excess is sinful and dangerous to the
soul. The dreamer enquires curiously about money: 'the money
on this earth that men so fast hold, tell me to whom that treasure
belongs. ' 'Go to the Gospel,' she replies, “and consider what
Christ himself said when the people apposed him with a penny. '
He then asks the meaning of the dungeon in the deep dale.
That is the castle of Care; whoso comes therein may ban that he was
born to body or to soul; in it dwells a wight named Wrong, the father of
False, who seduced Adam and Cain and Judas. He is a hinderer of love, and
deceives all who trust in their vain treasures.
Wondering who she is that utters such wisdom, the dreamer is
informed that she is Holy Church. "Thou oughtest to know me;
'
I received thee first and taught thee faith, and thou didst promise
to love me loyally while thy life should endure. ' He falls upon
his knees, beseeching her favour and begging her to teach him so
to believe on Christ as to do His will: 'Teach me to no treasure
but tell me this, how I may save my soul! '
a
## p. 7 (#25) ###############################################
Holy Church
7
6
“When all treasure is tried,' she declares, 'Truth is the best; it is as
precious as God himself. Whoso is true of his tongue and of his deeds, and
does ill to no man, is accounted to the Gospel and likened to our Lord. Truth
is claimed by Christian and non-Christian; it should be kept by all. Kings
and knights are bound by it, cherubim and seraphim and all the orders of
angels were knighted by Christ and taught to know Truth. Lucifer and his
fellows failed in obedience, and sinned by pride, and fell; but all who keep
Truth may be sure that their sonls shall go to heaven to be crowned by
Truth; for, when all treasure is tried, Truth is the best. 'But what is it?
By what quality or power of my nature does it begin, and where ? ' Thou
fool, it is a teaching of nature to love thy Lord dearer than thyself, and do
no deadly sin though thou shouldst die. This is Truth, and none can teach
thee better; it is the most precious thing demanded by our Lord. Love
began by the Father and was perfected in the death of his Son. Be merciful
as He was merciful, for, unless you live truly, and love and help the poor, you
have no merit in Mass or in Hours. Faith without works is dead; chastity
without charity is as foul as an unlighted lamp. Date et dabitur vobis, this
is the lock of love that lets out my grace to comfort all sinful; it is the
readiest way that leads to heaven. '
With this Holy Church declares that she can stay no longer,
and passus I closes.
But the dreamer kneels and beseeches her, crying,
'Mercy, my lady, for the love of her that bore the blissful Babe that
redeemed us on the cross; teach me to know False ! ' 'Look on thy left
hand and see where he stands-both False and Favel (Duplicity) and all his
whole house. I looked on the left hand as the lady taught me; and I saw
a woman wonderfully clothed, arrayed in furs the richest on earth, crowned
with a crown no less costly than the king's, all her five fingers loaded with
rings, with the most precious stones that prince ever wore. 'Who is this
woman,' said I, “thus richly attired ? ' That is the maiden Meed, who has
often injured me. To-morrow will the marriage be made of her and False.
Favel brought them together, Guile prepared her for it and Liar has directed
the whole affair. I warn thee that thou mayst know them all, and keep
thyself from them, if thou desirest to dwell with Truth in his bliss. I can
stay no longer; I commit thee to our Lord. '
All the rich retinue that held with False was bidden to the
bridal. Simony was sent for to seal the charters and feoff Meed
with all the possessions of False and Favel. But there was no
house that could hold the throng that came. In a moment, as if
by some magical process, we see a pavilion pitched on a hill, with
ten thousand tents set about it, for all men of all orders to witness
the feoffment of Meed. Then Favel brought her forth, and Simony
and Civil (Civil Law) stood forth and unfolded the charter, which
was drawn up in due legal form and endowed the contracting
parties with all the provinces of the seven deadly sins, 'to have
and to hold, and all their heirs after, with the appurtenance of
Purgatory, even to the torment of Hell; yielding, for this thing,
at the year's end, their souls to Satan. ' This was duly witnessed
## p. 8 (#26) ###############################################
8 Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
and delivered. But Theology objected to the wedding, because
Meed was no bastard and should be wedded according to the
choice of Truth.
The workman is worthy of his hire. False is no mate for her; she is of
good birth and might kiss the king for cousin. Take her to London and see
if the law will permit this wedding; and beware, for Truth is wise, and
Conscience, who knows you all, is of his counsel.
Civil agreed, but Simony demanded money for his services.
Then Favel brought forth gold, and began to bribe officers and
witnesses; and all promised to go to London and support his
claims before the court at Westminster.
The incident which follows is one of the best examples of the
author's power of visualisation and of rapid narration unbroken
by explanation or moralisation; for the moralising lines, unfortu-
nately admitted into Skeat's text, which interrupt the narrative
and tend to delay and obscure it, do not belong to the original,
but are found in one MS only. To the rapidity and assurance
with which the picture is developed is, perhaps, due in no small
part the readiness with which we accept it and the vitality and
solidity which these personified abstractions maintain throughout
the dream
Then they lacked horses to carry them thither, but Favel
brought forth foals of the best. He set Meed on a sheriff's back,
shod all new, and False on a juror that trotted softly. ' In like
manner for each of the abstractions was provided some appro-
priate, concrete evil-doer; and, thus equipped, the fantastic crew
immediately set out. But Soothness saw them well, and said
little, but rode hard and came first to court. There he told
Conscience, and Conscience reported to the king, all that had
happened. “Now, by Christ,' said the king, 'if I might catch
False or any of his fellows, I would hang them by the neck. '
Dread, standing at the door, heard his doom, and went wightly to
warn False. At the news, the wedding party fled in all directions.
False fled to the friars, Liar leaped away lightly, lurked through
lanes, buffeted by many and ordered to leave, until pardoners had
pity on him and received him as one of themselves. Then he was in
demand: physicians and merchants and minstrels and messengers
wanted him; but the friars induced him to come with them. Of
the whole wedding party, only Meed durst stay, and she trembled
and wept and wrung her hands when she was arrested.
In passus III the king orders that Meed shall be treated
courteously, and declares that he himself will ask her whom she
## p. 9 (#27) ###############################################
Meed
9
a
wishes to wed, and, if she acts reasonably, he will forgive her. So
a clerk brought her to the chamber. At once people began to
profess friendship for her and promise aid. The justices came, and
said, ‘Mourn not, Meed; we will clear thee. ' She thanked them
and gave them cups of clean gold and rings with rubies. Clerks
.
came, and said, “We are thine own, to work thy will while life
lasts. ' She promised to reward them all: 'no ignorance shall
hinder the advancement of him whom I love. ' A confessor offered
to shrive her for a seam of wheat and to serve her in
any
evil.
She told him a tale and gave him money to be her bedesman and
her bawd. He assoiled her, and then suggested that, if she would
help them with a stained glass window they were putting in, her
name would be recorded on it and her soul would be sure of
heaven. 'Knew I that,' said the woman, 'there is neither window
nor altar that I would not make or mend, and inscribe my name
thereon. ' Here the author declares the sin of such actions, and
exhorts men to cease such inscriptions, and give alms. He also
urges mayors to punish brewers, bakers, butchers and cooks, who,
of all men on earth, do most harm by defrauding the poor. 'Meed,'
he remarks, 'urged them to take bribes and permit such cheating ;
but Solomon says that fire shall consume the houses of those who
take bribes. '
Then the king entered and had Meed brought before him.
He addressed her courteously, but said, 'Never hast thou done
worse than now, but do so no more. I have a knight called
Conscience; wilt thou marry him? ' 'Yea, lord,' said the lady,
'God forbid else! ' Conscience was called and asked if he would
wed her.
Nay, Christ forbid! She is frail of her flesh, fickle, a causer of wanton-
ness.
She killed father Adam and has poisoned popes. She is as common
as the cart-way; she releases the guilty and hangs the innocent. She is privy
with the pope, and she and Simony seal his bulls. She maintains priests in
concubinage. She leads the law as she pleases, and suppresses the complaints
of the poor.
Meed tried to defend herself by charging that Conscience had
caused greater evils. He had killed a king. He had caused a king
to give up his campaign in Normandy.
Had I been the king's marshal, he should have been lord of all that
land. A king ought to give rewards to all that serve bim; popes both receive
and give rewards; servants receive wages; beggars, alms; the king pays his
officers; priests expect mass-pence; craftsmen and merchants, all take moed.
The king was impressed by this plea, and cried, “By Christ,
Meed is worthy to have such mastery. ' But Conscience kneeled,
## p. 10 (#28) ##############################################
IO
Plowman and its Sequence
Piers the
and explained that there are two kinds of meed; the one, such as
God gives to men who love him; the other, such as maintains
evil-doers. "Such as take bribes shall answer for it; priests that
take money for masses have their reward on earth only. Wages is
not meed, nor is there meed in the bargains of merchants. ' He
then illustrates the dangers of meed by the story of Saul and the
Amalekites, and ends by declaring that Reason shall reign and
govern realms; Meed shall no more be master, but Love and
Humility and Loyalty shall rule, and Kind-Wit and Conscience
together shall make Law a labourer, such love shall arise.
The king interrupted him and tried to effect a reconciliation
between him and Meed, but Conscience refused, unless advised
thereto by Reason. "Ride forth and fetch Reason; he shall rule
my realm,' replied the king. Conscience rode away gladly and
returned with Reason, followed by Wit and Wisdom. The king
welcomed Reason, and set him on the throne, between himself and
his son; and, while they were talking together, Peace came, and
put up a bill how Wrong had taken his wife, had stolen his geese,
his pigs, his horse and his wheat, had murdered his men and
beaten him. Wrong was afraid and tried to bribe Wisdom to
plead for him. Wisdom and Wit told him that, without the help
of Meed, he was ruined, and they took him to her. Peace showed
the king his bloody head; and the king and Conscience knew he
had been wronged; but Wisdom offered bail for Wrong and pay-
ment of the damages, and Meed offered Peace a present of gold;
whereupon Peace begged the king to have mercy upon Wrong.
The king swore he would not. Some urged Reason to have pity,
but he declared that he would not
till all lords and ladies love truth, and men cease to spoil children, and
clerks and knights are courteous, and priests practise what they preach,
till the custom of pilgrimages and of carrying money out of the land ceases,
till Meed has no might to moot in this hall. Were I king, no wrong should
go unpunished or get grace by bribes. Were this rule kept, Law would have
to become a labourer, and Love should rule all.
When they heard this, all held Reason a master and Meed a
wretch. Love laughed Meed to scorn. The king agreed that
Reason spoke truth, but said it would be hard to establish such
government. Reason asserted that it would be easy. Whereupon
the king begged Reason to stay with him and rule the land as
long as he lived. 'I am ready,' said Reason, 'to rest with thee
ever; provided Conscience be our counsellor, I care for nothing
better. "Gladly,' said the king; 'God forbid that he fail; and, as
long as I live, let us keep together! '
## p. 11 (#29) ##############################################
The First Vision
II
Thus ends passus IV, and, with it, the first vision. The style and
the method of composition are, in the highest degree, worthy of
note. The author, it will be observed, sets forth his views, not,
after the ordinary fashion of allegorists, by bringing together his
personifications and using them as mere mouthpieces, but by
involving them in a rapidly moving series of interesting situations,
skilfully devised to cause each to act and speak in a thoroughly
characteristic manner. They do not seem to be puppets, moving
and speaking as the showman pulls the strings, but persons,
endowed each with his own life and moved by the impulses of his
own will. Only once or twice does the author interrupt his narra-
tion to express his own views or feelings, and never does he allow
them to interfere with the skill or sincerity of expression of the
dramatis personae.
His presentation has, indeed, the clear,
undisturbed objectivity of excellent drama, or of life itself.
In the prologue, the satire, as has been observed, is all inci-
dental, casual; the same is true of passus 1; for these two sections
of the poem are not essentially satirical. The first is a purely
objective vision of the world with its mingled good and evil; the
second is the explanation of this vision with some comment and
exhortation by Holy Church, the interpreter. The satire proper
begins with passus II, and, from there to the end of this vision, is
devoted to a single subject--Meed and the confusion and distress
which, because of her, afflict the world. Friars, merchants, the
clergy, justices, lawyers, all classes of men, indeed, are shown to
be corrupted by love of Meed; but, contrary to current opinion,
there is nowhere even the least hint of any personal animosity
against any class of men as a class, or against any of the
established institutions of church or state. The friars have often
been supposed to be the special object of attack, but, so far as
this vision is concerned, they fare better, on the whole, than do
the lawyers. The only notable order of fourteenth century society
that escapes censure altogether is that of the monks. Of them
there is no direct criticism, though some of the MSS include
monks among those to whom Meed is common (III, 127–8). The
possible bearing of this fact upon the social status of the author
will be discussed later.
As to the style, no summary or paraphrase can reproduce its
picturesqueness and verve. It is always simple, direct, evocative
of a constant series of clear and sharply-defined images of in-
dividuals and groups. Little or no attempt is made at elaborate,
or even ordinarily full, description, and colour-words are singularly
## p. 12 (#30) ##############################################
I 2
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
few; but it would be difficult to find a piece of writing from which
the reader derives a clearer vision of individuals or groups of
moving figures in their habit as they lived. That the author was
endowed in the highest degree with the faculty of visualisation is
proved, not merely by his ability to stimulate the reader to form
mental images, but even more by the fact that all the movements
of individuals and groups can be followed with ease and certainty.
Composition, in the larger sense of structural excellence, that
quality common in French literature, but all too rare in English,
and supposed to be notably lacking in Piers the Plowman, is one
of the most striking features of this first vision.
What has just been said of the qualities of the first vision is
true in equal degree of the second, The Vision of Piers the Plow-
man, properly so called, which occupies passus V-VIIL. In outline
it is as follows:
At the close of the preceding vision, the king and his company
went to the church to hear the services. The dreamer saw them
enter, and awaked from his dream disappointed and sorrowful
that he had not slept more soundly and seen more. But, ere he
had gone a furlong, a faintness seized him, and he sat softly down
and said his creed; then he fell asleep and saw more than he had
seen before. He saw again the field full of folk and Conscience
with a cross preaching among them, urging them to have pity on
themselves and declaring that the pestilences were caused by their
sins, and that the great storm of wind on Saturday at even (15
January 1362) was a punishment for pride. Wasters were warned
to go to work; chapmen to cease spoiling their children; Pernel,
to give up her purfle; Thomas and Wat, to look after their frail
and extravagant wives; priests, to practise what they preached;
members of the religious orders, to keep their vows, lest the king
and his council should take possession of their property; pilgrims,
to cease journeying to St James, and seek St Truth. Then ran
Repentance and moved the hearts of all; William wept; Pernel
Proudheart prostrated herself; Lecher, Envy, Covetousness,
Glutton, Sloth, Robert the Robber, all repented. The confessions
of the seven deadly sins (an accident has deprived us of the
confession of Wrath and of a portion of Envy's) follow one
another with breathless rapidity, and the climax is reached when,
in the words of the author, 'a thousand of men then thronged
together, crying upward to Christ and to His pure Mother to have
grace to seek St Truth-God grant they so mayl'
## p. 13 (#31) ##############################################
The Way to Truth
13
a
With this passus v closes ; but the movement of the narrative
is uninterrupted. Some spurious lines printed by Skeat do, indeed,
cause a semblance of at least a momentary delay; but the authentic
text is better constructed.
There were few so wise, however, that they knew the way thither
(i. e. to St Truth), but blustered forth as beasts over valleys and hills,
till it was late and long that they met a person apparelled like a
pilgrim, with relics of the many shrines he had visited. He had
been at Sinai, Bethlehem, Babylon, Armenia, Alexandria and in
many other places, but had never heard of St Truth, nor met
a palmer seeking such a saint.
‘By St Peter! ' cried a ploughman, and put forth his head, 'I know him
as well as a clerk his book; Conscience and Kind-Wit directed me to him
and taught me to serve him ever. I have been his man these fifteen years,
sowed his seed, kept his beasts, diked and delved and done his bidding in all
things. '
The pilgrims offered him money to show them the way; but
Piers, the ploughman, cried,
Nay, by the peril of my soul! I would not take a penny for the whole
wealth of St Thomas's shrine; Truth would love me the less. But this is
the way. You must go through Meekness till you come to Conscience-that-
Christ-knows-that-you-love-him-dearer-than-the-life-in-your-hearts-and-your-
neighbour-next. Then cross the brook Be-buxom-of-speech by the ford Honour-
thy-father; pass by Swear-not-in-vain and the croft Covet-not, with the two
stocks Slay-not and Steal-not; stop not at Bear-no-false-witness, and then
will be seen Say-sooth. Thus shalt thou come to a court, clear as the sun;
the moat is of Mercy, the walls of Wit, to keep Will out, the cornells of
Christendom, the brattice of Faith, the roof of Brotherly Love. The tower
in which Truth is is set above the sun; he may do with the day-star what him
dear liketh; Death dare do naught that he forbids. The gate-keeper is
Grace, his man is Amend-thou, whose favour thou must procure. At the
gate also are seven sisters, Abstinence, Humility, Charity, Chastity, Patience,
Peace and Generosity. Any of their kin are welcomed gladly, and, unless one
is kin to some of these seven, he gets no entrance except by grace.
'By Christ,' cried a cut-purse, 'I have no kin there! ' And so
said some others; but Piers replied, 'Yes; there is there a maiden,
Mercy, who has power over them all. She is sib to all sinful, and,
through help of her and her Son, you may get grace there, if you
go early. '
Passus VII opens with the remark that this would be a difficult
way without a guide at every step. “By Peter! ' replied Piers,
'were my half-acre ploughed, I would go with you myself. ' 'That
would be a long delay,' said a lady; what shall we women do
meanwhile? ' 'Sew and spin and clothe the needy. ' 'By Christ! '
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.
Babylon. The maid freed from the gallows. The making of
ballads. General outlines of ballad progress. Sources of ballads.
Riddle ballads. The epic tendency. Balladry in rags. Ballads of
domestic tragedy. Child Waters. Funeral ballads. The historical
ballad. The greenwood. Sources and aesthetic values of ballads
as a whole.
395
CHAPTER XVIII
POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS VERSE TO THE CLOSE OF
THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY-FINAL WORDS
By A. R. WALLER, M. A. , Peterhouse.
Anglo-Norman writings. L'Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal. The
Vows of the Heron. The Lollards. The Libel of English Policy.
Jack Napes' Soul, Lyrics and carols. The religious plays.
.
Didactio literature. Robin Hood. The fifteenth century
419
430
.
432
.
Appendix to chapter II .
Bibliographies .
Table of principal dates.
Index .
510
513
## p. 1 (#19) ###############################################
CHAPTER I
PIERS THE PLOWMAN AND ITS SEQUENCE
FEw poems of the Middle Ages have had a stranger fate than
those grouped under the general title of The Vision of William
concerning Piers the Plowman. Obviously very popular in the
latter half of the fourteenth century, the time of their composition,
they remained popular throughout the fifteenth century, were
regarded in the sixteenth by the leaders of the reformation as an
inspiration and a prophecy, and, in modern times, have been
quoted by every historian of the fourteenth century as the most
vivid and trustworthy source for the social and economic history
of the time. Yet their early popularity has resulted in the
confusion of what is really the work of five different men, and in
the creation of a mythical author of all these poems and one other;
and the nature of the interest of the sixteenth century reformers
has caused a misunderstanding of the objects and aims of the
satire contained in the poems separately and collectively. Worst
of all, perhaps, the failure of modern scholars to distinguish the
presence of several hands in the poems has resulted in a general
charge of vagueness and obscurity, which has not even spared
a portion of the work remarkable for its clearness and definiteness
and structural excellence.
Before taking up any of the problems just suggested, we may
recall briefly certain undisputed facts as to the form of the poems.
They are written throughout in alliterative verse of the same
general type as that of Beowulf and other Old English poems, and,
at first sight, seem to form one long poem, extant in versions
differing somewhat from one another. As Skeat has conclusively
shown in his monumental editions of the texts, there are three
principal versions or texts, which he designates the A-text, the
B-text and the C-text, or the Vernon, the Crowley and the
Whitaker versions respectively. The A-text, or Vernon version,
consists of three visions supposed to come to the author while
1
E. L. II.
CH, I.
## p. 2 (#20) ###############################################
2
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
sleeping beside a stream among the Malvern hills. The first of
these, occupying the prologue and passus 1-10, is the vision of
the field full of folk—a symbol of the world—and Holy Church
and Lady Meed; the second, occupying passus V–VIII, is the
vision of Piers the Plowman and the crowd of penitents whom he
leads in search of Saint Truth; the third, occupying passus IX-XII,
is a vision in which the dreamer goes in search of Do-well, Do-better
and Do-best, but is attacked by hunger and fever and dies ere his
quest is accomplished. The B-text and the C-text are successive
modifications and expansions of the A-text.
Let us turn now from fact to theory. The two principal
authorities, Skeat and Jusserand, though differing in details, agree,
in the main, in the account they give of the poems and the author;
and their account is very generally accepted. It is as follows.
The author was William Langland (or Langley), born about 1331—2
at Cleobury Mortimer, 32 miles S. S. E. from Shrewsbury and 137
N. W. from London, and educated in the school of the Benedictine
monastery at Malvern, among the hills S. W. of Worcester.
Whether he was the son of freemen (Skeat's view) or of serfs
(Jusserand's view), he was, at any rate, educated for the church
and probably took minor orders; but, because of his temperament,
his opinions, his marriage, or his lack of influential friends, he never
rose in the church. At some unknown date, possibly before 1362,
he removed to London and made a scanty living by singing masses,
copying legal documents and other similar casual occupations.
In 1362, he began his famous poems, writing first the vision of
Lady Meed and the vision of Piers the Plowman.
Perhaps im-
mediately, perhaps after an interval of some time, he added to these
the vision of Do-well, Do-better and Do-best. This first version of
these poems constitutes what is now called the A-text of Piers the
Plowman. But, according to the current view, the author did not
leave matters thus. Encouraged by the success of his work and
impelled by his increasing indignation at the corruptions of the
age, he took up his poem again in 1377 and expanded it to more
than twice its original length. The lines of the earlier version he
left essentially unchanged; but he inserted, here and there, additions
of greater or less length, suggested now by some word or phrase of
the original text, now by events in the world about him and his
meditations on them; and he rejected the whole of the final
passus, containing an imaginary account of his death, to replace it
by a continuation of the vision of Do-well, Do-better and Do-best
longer than the whole of the original version of the poem. The
## p. 3 (#21) ###############################################
The Three Texts
3
A-text had contained a prologue and four passus (or cantos) of the
vision of Lady Meed, four passus of the vision of Piers the
Plowman and four passus of the vision of Do-well, Do-better and
Do-best, or twelve passus in all, with a total of 2567 lines. The
B-text runs parallel to this to the end of passus XI (but with 3206
lines instead of 2467), and then continues for nine more passus,
making a total of 7242 lines. The author's active interest in his
poem did not cease here, however, for he subjected it to another
revision, about 1393 (according to Skeat) or 1398 (according to
Jusserand). This revision is known as the C-text. Its relation to
the B-text may be roughly stated as consisting in the insertion of
a few passages, the rearrangement of a considerable number and
the rewriting of a number of others with more or less change of
content or of emphasis, but, on the whole, as involving no such
striking differences from the B-text as exist between that and the
A-text. This latest version numbers 7357 lines as against the
7242 of the second version.
Skeat and Jusserand ascribe to the same author another poem
in 'alliterative verse, commonly known as Richard the Redeless,
concerning the last years of the reign of Richard II. This poem,
which, as we have it, is a fragment, was, Skeat thinks, written
between the capture and the formal deposition of Richard in 1399,
and was, perhaps, left unfinished by the author in consequence of
the fate of the king.
The evidence relied upon to prove that all these poems were
the work of a single author is entirely the internal evidence of the
poems themselves, supposed similarity in ideas, style, diction, etc. ,
together with the difficulty of supposing the existence, at, approxi-
mately, the same time, of several unknown writers of such ability
as is displayed in these poems. Undoubtedly, the first impulse of
any student of a group of poems related as these are is to assume
that they are the work of a single author, and that any statements
made in the poems concerning the personality and experiences of
the dreamer are autobiographical revelations. Moreover, in this
particular case, it will be remembered, each of the two later
versions incorporates with its additions the preceding version;
and, as the C-text, on account of the larger mass of material in it,
has received the almost exclusive attention of scholars, the
impression of the style and other literary qualities gained by the
modern student has, necessarily, been a composite of the qualities
of the three texts and not a distinct sense of the qualities of each
and the differences between them,
1-2
## p. 4 (#22) ###############################################
4
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
Such differences do exist, and in the greatest number and
variety. There are differences in diction, in metre, in sentence
structure, in methods of organising material, in number and kind
of rhetorical devices, in power of visualising objects and scenes
presented, in topics of interest to the author and in views on
social, theological and various miscellaneous questions. Some of
these have, indeed, been observed and discussed by previous
writers, but they have always been explained as due to such
changes as might occur in any man's mental qualities and views
of life in the course of thirty or thirty-five years, the interval
between the earliest and the latest version. To the present writer
the differences seem of such a nature as not to admit of such an
explanation; and this opinion is confirmed by the existence of
certain passages in which the authors of the later versions have
failed to understand their predecessors.
This is, of course, not the place for polemics or for a detailed
examination of all the problems suggested by the poems. Our
principal concern is with the poems themselves as literary monu-
ments and, if it may be, with their author or authors. But, for
this very reason, it seems necessary to present the poems in such
a way as to enable the student to decide for himself between the
two theories of authorship, inasmuch as this decision carries with
it important conclusions concerning the literary values of the
poems, the mental qualities of the authors and the intellectual
activity of the age to which they belong. Fortunately, such a
presentation is precisely that which will best set forth the contents
of the poems and their qualities.
Let us examine first the prologue and passus I-VIII of the
A-text. This is not an arbitrary dismemberment of a poem. The
two visions included in these passus are intimately connected with
each other and definitely separated from what follows. At the
beginning of the prologue the dreamer goes to sleep among the
Malvern hills and sees a vision of the world in the guise of a field
full of folk thronging a valley bounded on one side by a cliff, on
which stands the tower of Truth, and, on the other, by a deep
dale, in which, surrounded by a dark moat, lies the dungeon of
Wrong. Within this valley begin the incidents of his first vision,
and, though they range far, there is never any suggestion of
discontinuity; at the end of the vision the dreamer wakes for only
a moment, and, immediately falling asleep, sees again the same
field of folk and another series of events unfolding themselves in
rapid succession beneath the cliff with its high-built tower, until,
>
## p. 5 (#23) ###############################################
The Crowd in the Valley
5
a
finally, he wakes 'meatless and moneyless in Malvern hills. ' The
third vision, on the other hand, has no connection with Malvern
hills; the dreamer sees nothing of his valley, with the folk and the
tower and the dungeon; indeed, this is not a vision at all in the
sense of the first two, but, rather, a series of dream-visits and
dream-discussions, the like of which cannot be found in the first
two visions. Skeat himself has recognised the close connection
between the first two visions, and has suggested that the third
may have been written after a considerable interval.
Each of the first two visions in the A-text is, contrary to the
usual opinion, distinguished by remarkable unity of structure,
directness of movement and freedom from digression of any sort.
The author marshals his dream-figures with marvellous swiftness,
but with unerring hand; he never himself forgets for a moment
the relation of any incident to his whole plan, nor allows his reader
to forget it, or to feel at a loss as to its meaning or its place.
We first see, with the vividness of the dreamer's own vision, the
thronging crowd in the valley beneath the tower of Truth and
hovering on the brink of the dark dale. People of all sorts are
there—the poor and the rich, saints and sinners of every variety,
living as they live in the world. Singly and in groups they pass
before us, each noted by the poet with a word or a phrase that gives
us their very form and pressure. Satire there is, but it is satire
which does not impede the movement of the thronged dream, satire
which flashes and plays about the object, revealing its inner nature
by a word, an epithet, a brief phrase. We see the false beggars
,
shamming for food and fighting at the ale-house, 'great lubbers
and long that loth were to labour'; the friars, 'preaching the
people for profit of their bellies'; the pardoner, surrounded by
the crowd of ignorant believers, whom he deceives with his papal
bull and his fair speech; and the corrupt priest, taking his share
of the ill-gotten gains, while the bishop, who is not 'worth his two
ears,' refuses to interfere. Then come a hundred lawyers in hoods
of silk, ready to undertake any cause for money, but refusing 'to
unloose their lips once for love of our Lord'; 'you could more
easily,' says the poet, ‘measure the mist on Malvern hills than get
a mum of their mouths unless money were showed. ' After them
appears a confused throng of churchmen of all degrees, all
'leaping to London' to seek worldly offices and wealth. Wasters
there are, and idle labourers 'that do their deeds ill and drive
forth the long day with singing Dieu save Dame Emme! ' Along
with the satire there is commendation, now for the ploughmen who
## p. 6 (#24) ###############################################
6 Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
work hard and play seldom; now, of a higher sort, for pious nuns
and hermits; now, for honest merchants; now, even for harmless
minstrels who 'get gold with their glee. ' But, neither satire nor
commendation delays even for a moment our rapid survey of this
marvellous motley crowd, or detracts from our feeling that, in this
valley of vision, the world in miniature is visibly moving, living,
working, cheating, praying, singing, crying for sale its ‘hot pies,'
its ‘good geese and pigs,' its 'white wine and red. '
The author, having thus, in his prologue, set before us the
vision first presented to the eyes of his mind, proceeds to interpret
it. This he does characteristically by a further development of
the dream itself.
A lovely lady comes down from the cliff and says to the
dreamer:
Son, seest thou this people, how engrossed they are in this confusion ?
The most part of the people that pass now on earth, if they have success in
this world, care for nothing else; of other heaven than here they take no
account.
The impression already made upon us by this strange majestic
figure is deepened by the author's vivid comment, 'I was afeard of
her face, fair though she was, and said, “Mercy, my lady; what is
the meaning of this? ” The tower, she explains, is the dwelling
of Truth, the Father of our faith, who formed us all and com-
manded the earth to serve mankind with all things needful. He
has given food and drink and clothing to suffice for all, but to be
used with moderation, for excess is sinful and dangerous to the
soul. The dreamer enquires curiously about money: 'the money
on this earth that men so fast hold, tell me to whom that treasure
belongs. ' 'Go to the Gospel,' she replies, “and consider what
Christ himself said when the people apposed him with a penny. '
He then asks the meaning of the dungeon in the deep dale.
That is the castle of Care; whoso comes therein may ban that he was
born to body or to soul; in it dwells a wight named Wrong, the father of
False, who seduced Adam and Cain and Judas. He is a hinderer of love, and
deceives all who trust in their vain treasures.
Wondering who she is that utters such wisdom, the dreamer is
informed that she is Holy Church. "Thou oughtest to know me;
'
I received thee first and taught thee faith, and thou didst promise
to love me loyally while thy life should endure. ' He falls upon
his knees, beseeching her favour and begging her to teach him so
to believe on Christ as to do His will: 'Teach me to no treasure
but tell me this, how I may save my soul! '
a
## p. 7 (#25) ###############################################
Holy Church
7
6
“When all treasure is tried,' she declares, 'Truth is the best; it is as
precious as God himself. Whoso is true of his tongue and of his deeds, and
does ill to no man, is accounted to the Gospel and likened to our Lord. Truth
is claimed by Christian and non-Christian; it should be kept by all. Kings
and knights are bound by it, cherubim and seraphim and all the orders of
angels were knighted by Christ and taught to know Truth. Lucifer and his
fellows failed in obedience, and sinned by pride, and fell; but all who keep
Truth may be sure that their sonls shall go to heaven to be crowned by
Truth; for, when all treasure is tried, Truth is the best. 'But what is it?
By what quality or power of my nature does it begin, and where ? ' Thou
fool, it is a teaching of nature to love thy Lord dearer than thyself, and do
no deadly sin though thou shouldst die. This is Truth, and none can teach
thee better; it is the most precious thing demanded by our Lord. Love
began by the Father and was perfected in the death of his Son. Be merciful
as He was merciful, for, unless you live truly, and love and help the poor, you
have no merit in Mass or in Hours. Faith without works is dead; chastity
without charity is as foul as an unlighted lamp. Date et dabitur vobis, this
is the lock of love that lets out my grace to comfort all sinful; it is the
readiest way that leads to heaven. '
With this Holy Church declares that she can stay no longer,
and passus I closes.
But the dreamer kneels and beseeches her, crying,
'Mercy, my lady, for the love of her that bore the blissful Babe that
redeemed us on the cross; teach me to know False ! ' 'Look on thy left
hand and see where he stands-both False and Favel (Duplicity) and all his
whole house. I looked on the left hand as the lady taught me; and I saw
a woman wonderfully clothed, arrayed in furs the richest on earth, crowned
with a crown no less costly than the king's, all her five fingers loaded with
rings, with the most precious stones that prince ever wore. 'Who is this
woman,' said I, “thus richly attired ? ' That is the maiden Meed, who has
often injured me. To-morrow will the marriage be made of her and False.
Favel brought them together, Guile prepared her for it and Liar has directed
the whole affair. I warn thee that thou mayst know them all, and keep
thyself from them, if thou desirest to dwell with Truth in his bliss. I can
stay no longer; I commit thee to our Lord. '
All the rich retinue that held with False was bidden to the
bridal. Simony was sent for to seal the charters and feoff Meed
with all the possessions of False and Favel. But there was no
house that could hold the throng that came. In a moment, as if
by some magical process, we see a pavilion pitched on a hill, with
ten thousand tents set about it, for all men of all orders to witness
the feoffment of Meed. Then Favel brought her forth, and Simony
and Civil (Civil Law) stood forth and unfolded the charter, which
was drawn up in due legal form and endowed the contracting
parties with all the provinces of the seven deadly sins, 'to have
and to hold, and all their heirs after, with the appurtenance of
Purgatory, even to the torment of Hell; yielding, for this thing,
at the year's end, their souls to Satan. ' This was duly witnessed
## p. 8 (#26) ###############################################
8 Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
and delivered. But Theology objected to the wedding, because
Meed was no bastard and should be wedded according to the
choice of Truth.
The workman is worthy of his hire. False is no mate for her; she is of
good birth and might kiss the king for cousin. Take her to London and see
if the law will permit this wedding; and beware, for Truth is wise, and
Conscience, who knows you all, is of his counsel.
Civil agreed, but Simony demanded money for his services.
Then Favel brought forth gold, and began to bribe officers and
witnesses; and all promised to go to London and support his
claims before the court at Westminster.
The incident which follows is one of the best examples of the
author's power of visualisation and of rapid narration unbroken
by explanation or moralisation; for the moralising lines, unfortu-
nately admitted into Skeat's text, which interrupt the narrative
and tend to delay and obscure it, do not belong to the original,
but are found in one MS only. To the rapidity and assurance
with which the picture is developed is, perhaps, due in no small
part the readiness with which we accept it and the vitality and
solidity which these personified abstractions maintain throughout
the dream
Then they lacked horses to carry them thither, but Favel
brought forth foals of the best. He set Meed on a sheriff's back,
shod all new, and False on a juror that trotted softly. ' In like
manner for each of the abstractions was provided some appro-
priate, concrete evil-doer; and, thus equipped, the fantastic crew
immediately set out. But Soothness saw them well, and said
little, but rode hard and came first to court. There he told
Conscience, and Conscience reported to the king, all that had
happened. “Now, by Christ,' said the king, 'if I might catch
False or any of his fellows, I would hang them by the neck. '
Dread, standing at the door, heard his doom, and went wightly to
warn False. At the news, the wedding party fled in all directions.
False fled to the friars, Liar leaped away lightly, lurked through
lanes, buffeted by many and ordered to leave, until pardoners had
pity on him and received him as one of themselves. Then he was in
demand: physicians and merchants and minstrels and messengers
wanted him; but the friars induced him to come with them. Of
the whole wedding party, only Meed durst stay, and she trembled
and wept and wrung her hands when she was arrested.
In passus III the king orders that Meed shall be treated
courteously, and declares that he himself will ask her whom she
## p. 9 (#27) ###############################################
Meed
9
a
wishes to wed, and, if she acts reasonably, he will forgive her. So
a clerk brought her to the chamber. At once people began to
profess friendship for her and promise aid. The justices came, and
said, ‘Mourn not, Meed; we will clear thee. ' She thanked them
and gave them cups of clean gold and rings with rubies. Clerks
.
came, and said, “We are thine own, to work thy will while life
lasts. ' She promised to reward them all: 'no ignorance shall
hinder the advancement of him whom I love. ' A confessor offered
to shrive her for a seam of wheat and to serve her in
any
evil.
She told him a tale and gave him money to be her bedesman and
her bawd. He assoiled her, and then suggested that, if she would
help them with a stained glass window they were putting in, her
name would be recorded on it and her soul would be sure of
heaven. 'Knew I that,' said the woman, 'there is neither window
nor altar that I would not make or mend, and inscribe my name
thereon. ' Here the author declares the sin of such actions, and
exhorts men to cease such inscriptions, and give alms. He also
urges mayors to punish brewers, bakers, butchers and cooks, who,
of all men on earth, do most harm by defrauding the poor. 'Meed,'
he remarks, 'urged them to take bribes and permit such cheating ;
but Solomon says that fire shall consume the houses of those who
take bribes. '
Then the king entered and had Meed brought before him.
He addressed her courteously, but said, 'Never hast thou done
worse than now, but do so no more. I have a knight called
Conscience; wilt thou marry him? ' 'Yea, lord,' said the lady,
'God forbid else! ' Conscience was called and asked if he would
wed her.
Nay, Christ forbid! She is frail of her flesh, fickle, a causer of wanton-
ness.
She killed father Adam and has poisoned popes. She is as common
as the cart-way; she releases the guilty and hangs the innocent. She is privy
with the pope, and she and Simony seal his bulls. She maintains priests in
concubinage. She leads the law as she pleases, and suppresses the complaints
of the poor.
Meed tried to defend herself by charging that Conscience had
caused greater evils. He had killed a king. He had caused a king
to give up his campaign in Normandy.
Had I been the king's marshal, he should have been lord of all that
land. A king ought to give rewards to all that serve bim; popes both receive
and give rewards; servants receive wages; beggars, alms; the king pays his
officers; priests expect mass-pence; craftsmen and merchants, all take moed.
The king was impressed by this plea, and cried, “By Christ,
Meed is worthy to have such mastery. ' But Conscience kneeled,
## p. 10 (#28) ##############################################
IO
Plowman and its Sequence
Piers the
and explained that there are two kinds of meed; the one, such as
God gives to men who love him; the other, such as maintains
evil-doers. "Such as take bribes shall answer for it; priests that
take money for masses have their reward on earth only. Wages is
not meed, nor is there meed in the bargains of merchants. ' He
then illustrates the dangers of meed by the story of Saul and the
Amalekites, and ends by declaring that Reason shall reign and
govern realms; Meed shall no more be master, but Love and
Humility and Loyalty shall rule, and Kind-Wit and Conscience
together shall make Law a labourer, such love shall arise.
The king interrupted him and tried to effect a reconciliation
between him and Meed, but Conscience refused, unless advised
thereto by Reason. "Ride forth and fetch Reason; he shall rule
my realm,' replied the king. Conscience rode away gladly and
returned with Reason, followed by Wit and Wisdom. The king
welcomed Reason, and set him on the throne, between himself and
his son; and, while they were talking together, Peace came, and
put up a bill how Wrong had taken his wife, had stolen his geese,
his pigs, his horse and his wheat, had murdered his men and
beaten him. Wrong was afraid and tried to bribe Wisdom to
plead for him. Wisdom and Wit told him that, without the help
of Meed, he was ruined, and they took him to her. Peace showed
the king his bloody head; and the king and Conscience knew he
had been wronged; but Wisdom offered bail for Wrong and pay-
ment of the damages, and Meed offered Peace a present of gold;
whereupon Peace begged the king to have mercy upon Wrong.
The king swore he would not. Some urged Reason to have pity,
but he declared that he would not
till all lords and ladies love truth, and men cease to spoil children, and
clerks and knights are courteous, and priests practise what they preach,
till the custom of pilgrimages and of carrying money out of the land ceases,
till Meed has no might to moot in this hall. Were I king, no wrong should
go unpunished or get grace by bribes. Were this rule kept, Law would have
to become a labourer, and Love should rule all.
When they heard this, all held Reason a master and Meed a
wretch. Love laughed Meed to scorn. The king agreed that
Reason spoke truth, but said it would be hard to establish such
government. Reason asserted that it would be easy. Whereupon
the king begged Reason to stay with him and rule the land as
long as he lived. 'I am ready,' said Reason, 'to rest with thee
ever; provided Conscience be our counsellor, I care for nothing
better. "Gladly,' said the king; 'God forbid that he fail; and, as
long as I live, let us keep together! '
## p. 11 (#29) ##############################################
The First Vision
II
Thus ends passus IV, and, with it, the first vision. The style and
the method of composition are, in the highest degree, worthy of
note. The author, it will be observed, sets forth his views, not,
after the ordinary fashion of allegorists, by bringing together his
personifications and using them as mere mouthpieces, but by
involving them in a rapidly moving series of interesting situations,
skilfully devised to cause each to act and speak in a thoroughly
characteristic manner. They do not seem to be puppets, moving
and speaking as the showman pulls the strings, but persons,
endowed each with his own life and moved by the impulses of his
own will. Only once or twice does the author interrupt his narra-
tion to express his own views or feelings, and never does he allow
them to interfere with the skill or sincerity of expression of the
dramatis personae.
His presentation has, indeed, the clear,
undisturbed objectivity of excellent drama, or of life itself.
In the prologue, the satire, as has been observed, is all inci-
dental, casual; the same is true of passus 1; for these two sections
of the poem are not essentially satirical. The first is a purely
objective vision of the world with its mingled good and evil; the
second is the explanation of this vision with some comment and
exhortation by Holy Church, the interpreter. The satire proper
begins with passus II, and, from there to the end of this vision, is
devoted to a single subject--Meed and the confusion and distress
which, because of her, afflict the world. Friars, merchants, the
clergy, justices, lawyers, all classes of men, indeed, are shown to
be corrupted by love of Meed; but, contrary to current opinion,
there is nowhere even the least hint of any personal animosity
against any class of men as a class, or against any of the
established institutions of church or state. The friars have often
been supposed to be the special object of attack, but, so far as
this vision is concerned, they fare better, on the whole, than do
the lawyers. The only notable order of fourteenth century society
that escapes censure altogether is that of the monks. Of them
there is no direct criticism, though some of the MSS include
monks among those to whom Meed is common (III, 127–8). The
possible bearing of this fact upon the social status of the author
will be discussed later.
As to the style, no summary or paraphrase can reproduce its
picturesqueness and verve. It is always simple, direct, evocative
of a constant series of clear and sharply-defined images of in-
dividuals and groups. Little or no attempt is made at elaborate,
or even ordinarily full, description, and colour-words are singularly
## p. 12 (#30) ##############################################
I 2
Piers the Plowman and its Sequence
few; but it would be difficult to find a piece of writing from which
the reader derives a clearer vision of individuals or groups of
moving figures in their habit as they lived. That the author was
endowed in the highest degree with the faculty of visualisation is
proved, not merely by his ability to stimulate the reader to form
mental images, but even more by the fact that all the movements
of individuals and groups can be followed with ease and certainty.
Composition, in the larger sense of structural excellence, that
quality common in French literature, but all too rare in English,
and supposed to be notably lacking in Piers the Plowman, is one
of the most striking features of this first vision.
What has just been said of the qualities of the first vision is
true in equal degree of the second, The Vision of Piers the Plow-
man, properly so called, which occupies passus V-VIIL. In outline
it is as follows:
At the close of the preceding vision, the king and his company
went to the church to hear the services. The dreamer saw them
enter, and awaked from his dream disappointed and sorrowful
that he had not slept more soundly and seen more. But, ere he
had gone a furlong, a faintness seized him, and he sat softly down
and said his creed; then he fell asleep and saw more than he had
seen before. He saw again the field full of folk and Conscience
with a cross preaching among them, urging them to have pity on
themselves and declaring that the pestilences were caused by their
sins, and that the great storm of wind on Saturday at even (15
January 1362) was a punishment for pride. Wasters were warned
to go to work; chapmen to cease spoiling their children; Pernel,
to give up her purfle; Thomas and Wat, to look after their frail
and extravagant wives; priests, to practise what they preached;
members of the religious orders, to keep their vows, lest the king
and his council should take possession of their property; pilgrims,
to cease journeying to St James, and seek St Truth. Then ran
Repentance and moved the hearts of all; William wept; Pernel
Proudheart prostrated herself; Lecher, Envy, Covetousness,
Glutton, Sloth, Robert the Robber, all repented. The confessions
of the seven deadly sins (an accident has deprived us of the
confession of Wrath and of a portion of Envy's) follow one
another with breathless rapidity, and the climax is reached when,
in the words of the author, 'a thousand of men then thronged
together, crying upward to Christ and to His pure Mother to have
grace to seek St Truth-God grant they so mayl'
## p. 13 (#31) ##############################################
The Way to Truth
13
a
With this passus v closes ; but the movement of the narrative
is uninterrupted. Some spurious lines printed by Skeat do, indeed,
cause a semblance of at least a momentary delay; but the authentic
text is better constructed.
There were few so wise, however, that they knew the way thither
(i. e. to St Truth), but blustered forth as beasts over valleys and hills,
till it was late and long that they met a person apparelled like a
pilgrim, with relics of the many shrines he had visited. He had
been at Sinai, Bethlehem, Babylon, Armenia, Alexandria and in
many other places, but had never heard of St Truth, nor met
a palmer seeking such a saint.
‘By St Peter! ' cried a ploughman, and put forth his head, 'I know him
as well as a clerk his book; Conscience and Kind-Wit directed me to him
and taught me to serve him ever. I have been his man these fifteen years,
sowed his seed, kept his beasts, diked and delved and done his bidding in all
things. '
The pilgrims offered him money to show them the way; but
Piers, the ploughman, cried,
Nay, by the peril of my soul! I would not take a penny for the whole
wealth of St Thomas's shrine; Truth would love me the less. But this is
the way. You must go through Meekness till you come to Conscience-that-
Christ-knows-that-you-love-him-dearer-than-the-life-in-your-hearts-and-your-
neighbour-next. Then cross the brook Be-buxom-of-speech by the ford Honour-
thy-father; pass by Swear-not-in-vain and the croft Covet-not, with the two
stocks Slay-not and Steal-not; stop not at Bear-no-false-witness, and then
will be seen Say-sooth. Thus shalt thou come to a court, clear as the sun;
the moat is of Mercy, the walls of Wit, to keep Will out, the cornells of
Christendom, the brattice of Faith, the roof of Brotherly Love. The tower
in which Truth is is set above the sun; he may do with the day-star what him
dear liketh; Death dare do naught that he forbids. The gate-keeper is
Grace, his man is Amend-thou, whose favour thou must procure. At the
gate also are seven sisters, Abstinence, Humility, Charity, Chastity, Patience,
Peace and Generosity. Any of their kin are welcomed gladly, and, unless one
is kin to some of these seven, he gets no entrance except by grace.
'By Christ,' cried a cut-purse, 'I have no kin there! ' And so
said some others; but Piers replied, 'Yes; there is there a maiden,
Mercy, who has power over them all. She is sib to all sinful, and,
through help of her and her Son, you may get grace there, if you
go early. '
Passus VII opens with the remark that this would be a difficult
way without a guide at every step. “By Peter! ' replied Piers,
'were my half-acre ploughed, I would go with you myself. ' 'That
would be a long delay,' said a lady; what shall we women do
meanwhile? ' 'Sew and spin and clothe the needy. ' 'By Christ! '
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.
