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PIERS PLOWMAN 
 
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 '<- -^V. ;^, 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 ENGLISH WAYFARING LIFE IN THE 
 MIDDLE AGES (XlVth CENTURY). 
 Translated by L. T. Smith. Revised and enlarged 
 by the Author. Fourth Edition. Sixty-one Illustra- 
 tions. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d. 
 "An extremely fascinating book. "— Times. 
 
 THE ENGLISH NOVEL IN THE TIME OF 
 SHAKESPEARE. Translated by E. Lee. Re- 
 vised and enlarged by the Author. Illustrated by 
 6 Heliogravures by Dujardin, and 21 full-page and 
 many smaller Illustrations in Facsimile. .Second 
 Edition. Demy 8vo, cloth, gilt tops, 21s. 
 " One of the brightest, most scholarly, and most interesting 
 
 volumes of literary history."— ^'/t'rt^t'r. 
 
 A FRENCH AMBASSADOR AT THE COURT 
 OF CHARLES II. : Le Comte de Cominges, 
 from his unpul)lished correspondence. 10 Illustra- 
 tions, 5 being Photogravures. Demy Svo, cloth gilt, 
 
 I2S. 
 
 "The whole book is delightful reading." — Spectator. 
 
 London : T. FISHER UNWIN. 
 
Piers Plowman 
 
 A Contribution to the History of 
 English Mysticism 
 
 J. J. JUSSERAND 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BV 
 
 M. E. R. 
 
 REVISED AND ENLARGED BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 ILLUSTRJTED 
 
 New York: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 London: T. FISHER UNWIN 
 
 MDCC.CXCIV 
 

 29517 
 
 1899 ^ 
 
'■'■ MTSTIC ISME. Croyance religieuse ou philosophique qui 
 admet des communications secretes entre Vhotnme et la divinite. 
 
 MTSTl!^lJE. ^i a un car act ere de spiritualit'e allegorique en 
 parlant des choses de la religion^ 
 
 Lin RE. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 EXPLANATORY LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ... 7 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 THE WORK AND THE DAT 11 
 
 I. Preliminaries. — Dreams and visions, in Italy, in 
 France, and in England — Dante... ... ... ... 11 
 
 II. Summary of Events. — Accession of Edward III. 
 — His French wars — The French wars, royal, not 
 national — Increased power of the Commons — They want 
 to manage home affairs and usually leave foreign to 
 the king — Their hate of foreigners — Their opposition 
 to papal encroachments — Statutes of " Provisors " and 
 "Praemunire" — Decrease of papal influence in England 14 
 
 Plagues, murrains, tempests, earthquakes — Mystic 
 minds distressed by them ... ... ... ... ... 18 
 
 Last years of Edward III. — Financial difficulties — 
 The " Good " and " Bad " Parliaments ... ... ... 20 
 
 Reign of Richard II. — His difficulties — Wyclif ; the 
 rising of the peasantry ; the lords "Appellant" — -Various 
 phases of good and bad government — The catastrophe — 
 Accession of Henry IV. ... ... ... ... ... 21 
 
 III. Analysis of " Piers Plowman." — The Vision — 
 The field full of folk— Trial of Meed— Trial of Wrong 
 — Conversion of the Deadly Sins — Piers Plowman 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 teaches the way leading to Truth — Visions of Dowel, 
 Dobet, and Dobest — The siege of Hell — Doleful sights 
 — Coming of Antichrist, Elde, Death ... ... ... 22 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE THREE I'ERSIONS OF THE POEM 32 
 
 I. Text A. — " Provisors " — Peace of Bretigny — 
 Plague of 1 36 1-2 — Wind tempest of January 25, 1362 — 
 Probable date of A, 1362-3 ... ... ... ... 32 
 
 II. Text B. — Fable of the council held by rats and 
 mice, and the crisis of the year 1376-7 — Popularity of 
 the fable — Identification of allusions — Papal wars — • 
 French wars — Plague of 1375 — The Golden Age and 
 
 the jubilee — Probable date of B, 1376-7 ... ... 3^ 
 
 III. Text C. — A deeper note — Tendency of the 
 author to confess his faults and tell the tale of his life — 
 The Commons protest against " avancement par clergie," 
 1 39 1 — Allusion to the unpopularity of the king, 1398 — 
 Probable date of C, 1398-9 ... ... ... ... 55 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE JUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER 59 
 
 I. Name and Birth. — The name, according to the 
 Visions — The surname, according to the Visions, to notes 
 of the XVth century, and to tradition — Langland's family 
 — His friends — Was he the son of a freeman } — What 
 Holy Church did for him — Date of his birth ... ... 59 
 
 II. His Youth and Character. — He studies at 
 Malvern ; perhaps at the University — He follows Wit 
 rather than Study — His knowledge — His learning is ex- 
 tensive, but not deep — Sciences — Languages — Dreams of 
 love and wealth ... ... ... ... ... ... 73 
 
 III. Shadows. — His friends die — His false situation — 
 Life in London — Religious functions — Chantries — His 
 
CONTENTS. 3 
 
 I'AGE 
 
 marriage — His cot in Cornhill — He docs not bow to the 
 rich and powerful — Doubts and terrors — His conversion 
 — His diseased will — His end ... ... ... ... 86 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 THE WORLD 102 
 
 I. The Parliament and the State. — Mobs — Lang- 
 land knows how to describe them — His mobs arc alive 
 and have a temper of their own — Difference with 
 Chaucer — The Parliaments and the Commons of England 
 as described by Langland — Might and grandeur of the 
 Commons — Langland alone able fully to understand the 
 same — State organisation — Langland seems to foresee 
 the end of the Plantagenets — Langland at one with the 
 Commons on nearly all questions — The political economy 
 ot his time... ... ... ... ... ... ... 102 
 
 IL The Classes of Society. — The knight must defend 
 the realm and the v:hurch — Active Life — The knight has 
 to fight and must not wear himself out with fasts and 
 penances — He will beware of hangers-on and of Lady 
 Meed — Fair ladies with long fingers — -Their duties — 
 Merchants — What they should do with their wealth — • 
 Roads, hospitals, orphanages, &c. — Piers Plowman finds 
 food for everybody — Not, however, tor idlers, jugglers, 
 japers, &c. — Hunger will rid the world ot all such — 
 Men of law — Marriage ... ... ... ... ... 115 
 
 in. Home Scenes. — -With Piers Plowman — The home 
 of a peasant woman, winter time — With the wealthy — 
 The hall ; the chamber ... ... ... ... ... 122 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 THE CHURCH 126 
 
 I. The Pope and the Religious Hierarchy. — Aim 
 of Langland in religious matters — He wants to reform 
 abuses, but leaves the dogma and established hierarchy 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 untouched — In religious, as well as in political matters, 
 he sides with the Commons — " Provisors " — Temporal 
 power — Cardinals — The papal court at Avignon — Bishops 
 — Absentees — State appointments filled by bishops — 
 Recruiting of the clergy — Bishops "in partibus " — 
 Country parsons — The hunting parson ... ... ... 126 
 
 II. The Regular Clergy. —The poet comparatively 
 lenient to them — "Wrath" ill-treated by the Monks — 
 Well treated by nuns — Quarrels in a nunnery — The 
 worldly monk ... ... ... ... ... ... 137 
 
 III. Monsters. — Heavenly wares for sale — Holy and 
 unholy hermits — Pardoners — Buyers and sellers — Friars 
 — What they were meant to be ; what they are — They 
 preach, confess, gather wealth — Lady Meed, and saintly 
 women ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 140 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND 153 
 
 I. Art. — Langland's sincerity — -He is led by his 
 thoughts — Nothing studied in his most successful artistical 
 effects — Examples of the same — Clouds — Memorable 
 sayings — His gift for observation : men, animals, things 
 — "Caracteres ct moeurs de cc siecle" — Proud, Ava- 
 ricious, Gloton — Realism and mysticism combined ... 1^3 
 
 II. Vocabulary and Prosody. — Langland's vocabu- 
 lary similar to Chaucer's — Anglo-Saxon and French 
 words — Close relationship of word and thought — Lang- 
 land's dialect — His versification — Rules of his alliterative 
 verse — Langland's erudition — His knowledge of the 
 ancients, of Scripture, of contemporary writers — He 
 quotes from memory ... ... ... ... ... 164. 
 
 III. Aims of Langland. — He writes for men of good- 
 will — His proverbs — Popular wisdom — Langland as an 
 insular — Comparison with Chaucer — He teaches, before 
 all, the necessity of being sincere — His hate of shams — 
 Joys and pleasures — Sadness of thought — His possible 
 optimism— " Disce, doce, dilige "... ... ... ... 173 
 
CONTENTS. 5 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PLACE OF LANG LAND IN MYSTIC LITERATURE i86 
 
 I. Popularity of the Visions. — Number of manu- 
 scripts — The name of the Plowman becomes a pass- 
 word — The Plowman at the time of the Reformation — 
 Piers on the stage — The meaning of the Plowman 
 wrongly interpreted — The Plowman and the uprising of 
 I 38 1 — The Plowman and the Wyclifites — -Allusions to 
 
 the Plowman — Printed editions — Literary criticism ... 186 
 
 II. Langland and Foreign Mystics. — Italian mystics 
 — Dante — Joachim of Flora — St. Francis — French poets 
 — Rutebeuf — The " Roman de la Rose " — " Le Songe 
 du Verger" — The "Pelerinages" of Deguileville — Dame 
 Oiseuse and Lady Meed — German mystics — Beguinages 
 — The " Free Spirit " — Pantheism — Self-caused diseases 
 of the will — Prophets and prophetesses — The "Friend of 
 God " — Saint Hildegarde — St. Elizabeth of Schoenau — 
 Rulman Merswin and the "Friend of God in Oberland" 
 
 — Comparison between Langland and Merswin ... 192 
 
 III. Langland and English Mystics. — The Anglo- 
 Saxon race and its genius — -Results of the Norman 
 Conquest — Something of the Anglo-Saxon genius survives 
 — Rollc of Hampole — Herbert of Cherbury — George 
 Fox — Bunyan — Wesley — Whiteficld — Cowper — -Blake — 
 Two sides of the English genius : Chaucer and Langland 21 1 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE M'RITINGS OF LANGLAND 
 
 I. Beginning of the Visions 
 II. A Parliament of mice and ratons 
 
 III. Lady Meed at Court — Flight of her companions 
 
 IV. Meed at Court — Her supporters 
 V. Autobiographical fragments 
 
 VI. A tavern scene ... 
 
 223 
 224 
 226 
 228 
 229 
 233 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 VII. " Accidia," or the lazy parson ... ... ... ... 235 
 
 VIII. " Poure folk in cotes "' ... ... ... ... ... 236 
 
 IX. " Lewcde cremytes" ... ... ... ... ... 237 
 
 X. The doubts of " cunnyng clcrkes " and the faith of 
 
 "pastoures" ... ... ... ... ... 238 
 
 XI. Harrowing of Hell, and Easter Bells ... ... ... 239 
 
 XII. (From "Richard the Rcdeless.") — The meeting of 
 
 Parliament — Faithful and faithless members ... 241 
 
 GLOSSARY of Obsolete Words in the Extracts ... ... 24.3 
 
 INDEX 249 
 
EXPLANATORY LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 I. — Malvern. A modern view, reproduced in 
 
 heliogravure, by Dujardin of Paris Frontispiece 
 
 2. — Gower confessing his sins to Genius. From 
 MS. Egerton 1991, fol. 7, in the British Mu- 
 seum, containing the " Confessio Amantis " : 
 
 . . . and gan biholde 
 The selve prest which as sche wolde 
 Was redy ther and sette him doun 
 To licre my confcssioun. 
 
 "To face p. 1 1 
 
 3. — An Enghsh poet dreaming his dream (the 
 author of" Pearl "). From MS, Cotton. Nero 
 A. lOj in the British Museum To face p. 12 
 
 4.- — Meed " on a Schirreves bak i-schod al 
 newe." From MS. Douce 104, in the 
 Bodleian Library, containing text C of the 
 Visions ... ... ... ... p. 33 
 
 5. — " Ratons ot Renon " hanging a cat. From 
 the misericord of a stall at Malvern (XVth 
 century) ... ... ... ... p. 43 
 
 6. — The poet Gower with a " colere abouten his 
 nekke." From his tomb at St. Saviour's 
 Church, Southwark ... ... T'o face p. 46 
 
 7. — The priory church at Great Malvern, a.d. 
 1820. From Dugdale's " Monasticon Angli- 
 
8 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 canum," London, 6 vols., fol,, ed. Caley, Ellis 
 and Bandinell, vol. iii., 1821, p. 440 
 
 / To face p. 59 
 
 8. — Another view of the church ; actual state 
 
 y To face p. 73 
 
 9. — The refectory (now destroyed) of the priory 
 of Great Malvern, drawn by E. Blore, 1837, 
 " Archasologia," 1844, p. 116. Built at the 
 beginning of the reign of Edward III. 
 ^ To face f. 79 
 
 10. — Interior of the same, ibid. ... To face f. 80 
 
 J II. — Old St. Paul's (before the fire), engraved by 
 Hollar. From the " History of St. Paul's 
 Cathedral," by W. Dugdale, London, 1658, 
 fol., p. 132. The portico, in the Renaissance 
 style, was an addition by Inigo Jones, who was 
 entrusted with the care of repairing the church 
 during the reigns of James I. and Charles I. 
 
 To face p. 86 
 "" 12.- — Interior of the same: " Chori ecclesia^ cathe- 
 dralis S. Pauli prospectus interior," by Hollar. 
 Ibid., p. 169 .... ... To face p. 90 
 
 •/ 13. — Tomb of John of Gaunt and " Blaunche the 
 Duchesse," in old St. Paul's. Ibid., p. 91. 
 A tablet placed near the tomb, in Tudor 
 times, stated that the princess buried with 
 John of Gaunt was his second wife Constance. 
 But this was, it seems, a mistake, as Con- 
 stance was buried in the " New Work " at 
 Leicester, and as the " Tombe of the said 
 Duke and the Lady Blanch his wife " is 
 mentioned by Henry IV. with reference to 
 
C2 ?<l 
 
 o s 
 
^^to- 
 
 AN ENGLISH POET DREAMING HIS DREAM (the Author of " Pearl"). 
 (JFrom MS. Cotton Nero A. lo, in the British Miiseuiu). 
 
\ 
 
/ 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. '9 
 
 the chantry in St. Paul's Cathedral he en- 
 dowed for their sake ... 'T'o face p. 92 
 14. — A " glorious tabernacle." From the MS. 
 Cotton. Tiberius A. vii., fol. 68, containing 
 the " Pilgrimage of the Life of Man," by 
 Deguileville, translated into English by J. 
 Lydgate : 
 
 And the passyoun off" Crisr hym sylve 
 
 And off" his Aposteles twelve 
 
 And off" martyrs that were victorious 
 
 The pacyence of confessours 
 
 And off" maydenes in ther degre. . . . 
 
 'To face p. 94 
 
 15. — " Treuthe's pilgryme atte plow." From the 
 MS. R. 3. 14, in the library of Trinity 
 College, Cambridge, containing the Visions. 
 " God spede ye plough, and send us korne 
 y no " ... ... ... To face p. 119 
 
 16. — A Hermit, deceived by the Devil, kills his 
 father. From same MS. as No. 14, fol. 56 
 
 To face p. 144 
 
 17. — The confession of Lady Meed. From same 
 
 MS. as No. 4 ... ... ... i'- 151 
 
 18. — Gloton. From the misericord of a stall at 
 
 Great Malvern (XVth century) ... p. 162 
 
 719. — Fac-simile of the beginning of MS. Laud, 
 Misc. 581, in the Bodleian Library, con- 
 taining the B text of the Visions : " The best 
 copy of the B text, carefully and minutely 
 corrected. I believe there is no reason why 
 it may not be the author's autograph copy. 
 
J 
 
 I o LIST OF ILL USTRA TIONS. 
 
 Wherever a slight mistake is left in the text, 
 there is a mark at the side to call attention 
 to it. In any case it is our best authority," 
 (Skeat, Oxford edition of the Visions, 1886, 
 vol. ii. p. Ixviii.) ... ... 'To face p. 186 
 
 20. — Deguileville, asleep in his bed, dreams of a 
 '^ Pelerinaee de la Vie humaine." From MS. 
 22937 in the British Museum, made for 
 " Claude de Montaigu, Seigneur de Couche," 
 a knight of the Golden Fleece, who died 1470 
 / To face p. 198 
 
 21. — Deguileville decides to write his dream. 
 r Same MS. ... ... ... To face p. 200 
 
 22. — Deguileville's pilgrim meets " Gladnesse of 
 the World." From same MS. as Nos. 14 
 and 16, fol. 78 ... ... To face p. 202 
 
 23. — " With dreams upon my bed thou scarest 
 me and affrightest m.e with visions." " Illus- 
 trations for the Book of Job in 21 plates . . . 
 engraved by W^. Blake," London, 1826, 
 plate XI. ... ... ... To face p. 212 
 
 24. — " And, behold, there came a great wind from 
 the wilderness, and smote the four corners 
 of the house, and it fell upon the young 
 men, and they are dead." From Blake's 
 "Illustrations," ibid., plate III. To face p. 216 
 
 25. — "When the morning stars sang together, 
 and all the sons of God shouted for joy. . . ." 
 From Blake's " Illustrations," ibid., plate 
 XIV. Compare Langland, C. xxi. 471 : 
 
 Tyl the day dawede * these damsel es daunscde. 
 
 To face p. 218 
 
 1/ 
 
 y/ 
 
GOWER CONFESSING HIS SINS TO GENIUS. 
 {I'rom MS. Egerton 1991, in the British Museum], 
 
^ters ^lotDtnan. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE WORK AND THE DAY 
 
 " Many tyme this meteles • 
 
 hath maked me to studye.'"' 
 B. vii. 143. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE poets of the Middle Ages wander about the 
 meadows. The sun shhies, the birds sing, the 
 flowers open and perfume the air, a stream of 
 clear water glides over the pebbles ; like the birds, the 
 river sings. To this music, the poet sleeps, and his 
 slumber is peopled by dreams.^ He dreams de omni re 
 scibili^ and it takes his whole existence to tell all he has 
 seen ; nay, one life-time does not always suffice ; he 
 dies, having been unable to write more than five thou- 
 sand verses, and another poet must come and sleep in 
 his stead, in order to finish, in eighteen thousand lines, 
 the dream commenced forty years before. This hap- 
 pened to Guillaume de Lorris and Jean de Meun, 
 authors of the " Roman de la Rose." 
 
 Among so many dreams, French, Italian, German^ 
 
1 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 English, dreams of youth, and dreams of beauty, 
 dreams where Science teaches sciences, and Love teaches 
 love, only a very few have deserved the grander and 
 , nobler name of " Visions." It was not to dream vain 
 dreams that the Florentine of old, when half-way on 
 life's journey, walked into the shadows of an obscure 
 forest, and followed the path that leads to the abode of 
 the doomed race. " Day was departing, and the waning 
 light closed for the creatures upon earth the period of 
 their toils. And I, alone among them all, prepared to 
 undergo the hardships of the way and the pangs of pity, 
 which my faithful memory will now tell." The flowers 
 have closed, and no bird sings. 
 
 At the other end of Europe, there blossomed, in 
 the same century, a literature of which Chaucer was 
 the master mind, a sunny and living literature, teeming 
 with the aspirations and the tenderness, ringing with the 
 laugh, of a young and already great nation. Many^ 
 English poets dreamed on the banks of rivers ; Chaucer 
 himself had a dream " in a litel herber " ; Gower was 
 affected with dreams all his life. On the flowery margin 
 of a stream, at the base of crystal rocks, under the 
 shade of green boughs, the author of that exquisite 
 poem, the " Pearl," i beheld his daughter taken away 
 from him by Death, a pearl lost in the grass, a shed^ 
 rose-leaf. 
 
 And while dreamers sang and dreamers prayed, a 
 bizarre and mysterious being, — concerning whom we 
 possess no contemporaneous testimony, whom nobody 
 saw, though he mingled in crowds all his life, passing 
 
 ^ " Pearl, an English Poem of the XlVth Century," ed. 
 Gollancz. London, 1891, 8v'o. 
 
THE WORK AND THE DAY. 13 
 
 amid them unobserved, — disdained dreams, and wrote 
 Visions for England, as Dante did for Italy, Place 
 him at whatever distance you will from Dante, he is 
 the only poet of the century whose mystic visions 
 deserve to be mentioned after the epic of the illustrious 
 Florentine. All that relates to this personage is 
 contradictory, and scarcely explicable. He dwelt in 
 London unseen. His book had a prodigious success ; 
 and no poet of the time makes any certain allusion 
 to it. So great was his influence, that, from out his 
 writings, were taken watchwords at the time of the 
 great rising of the peasants ; yet the public powers, 
 though they meddled then in many matters, appear to 
 have left him alone. 
 
 His poem is not only strange, it is likewise grand 
 and beautiful, and is far from being as well known as 
 it should be. From a historical point of view, again, it 
 oifers considerable interest, for, as in Chaucer's tales, 
 all England is in it. The same types are there : 
 knights, monks, mendicant friars, pardoners, London 
 shopkeepers, poor working-men, honest labourers, gay, 
 tavern-haunting roysterers, and pious clerks creeping 
 to heaven under the shadow of the church. To possess 
 duplicates of Chaucer's portraits would be, in itself, of 
 the highest importance ; but these are far better than 
 duplicates ; they are the same personages seen at another 
 angle, placed in a different light, and judged by a poet 
 who, though thoroughly English, is English in a 
 different way from Chaucer. It is impossible to form 
 an idea of English society at this important period, 
 when it received its definitive characteristics, without 
 comparing these two series of paintings, equally inte- 
 
14 FIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 resting from the manner in which they are ahke, and 
 unlike. 
 
 Let us then, follow, instead of Virgil, this strange 
 and unknown guide. Not among the Dead will he 
 lead us ; for it is a peculiarity of his Visions, that, with 
 all the awe that surrounds them, they are visions of 
 actual life. At times, clouds, vapours, and abstractions 
 obscure the scene; we are blinded and smothered; 
 then suddenly, the cloud lifts, the wind disperses it, 
 and we behold, as clearly as if we were in them, a 
 London street of the XlVth century, the tavern where 
 cut-purses meet, the comfortable cottage of the false 
 hermit, the library and silent cloister where the tide of 
 pious life flows on. Following this guide, let us resign 
 ourselves, beforehand, to the tumult of the taverns 
 and the obscurity of the clouds. 
 
 II. 
 
 Before stepping into the maze of the old city's bye- 
 streets, and following pathways laid out in the clouds, 
 it will not be amiss to select landmarks ; and a short 
 historical memento will be perhaps to the purpose. 
 Here are the principal facts and dates which should 
 be remembered when dealing with our visionary. Both 
 dates and facts are well known, but well-known things 
 are not always remembered. 
 
 At the moment when the period that occupies us 
 opens, Edward III., of the family of the Angevin Plan- 
 tagenet kings, reigns in England. He has succeeded 
 to his father, in 1327, after a horrible tragedy. Aided 
 
THE WORK AND THE DAY. 15 
 
 by her lover Mortimer, Queen Isabella had first de- 
 posed her husband, Edward 11. , and then caused him to 
 be assassinated. By order of Edward III., Mortimer 
 was put to death in 1330, and Isabella was confined to 
 the castle of Risings during the last twenty- seven years 
 of her life. 
 
 In 1337, Edward III. takes the title of King of 
 France ; the Hundred Years' War commences the 
 following year. In 1340, he gains the naval battle of 
 the Sluys ; and in 1346 the battle of Crecy, where his 
 eldest son, the Black Prince, " wins his spurs." He 
 takes Calais in 1347 ; on September 19, 1356, the Black 
 Prince, victorious at Poictiers, makes King John of 
 France prisoner. Peace is signed at Bretigny in 1360, 
 and John, who has consented to pay three million 
 pieces of gold, returns to France for a short time. 
 
 At home, the English Parliament increasingly 
 afiirms its authority; all its efforts tend towards the 
 unification and concentration of the English com- 
 munity. The wars with France are royal, and not 
 national, wars ; the English are subject to Edward III. 
 as king of England, and not as king of France : they 
 loudly affirm the same in Parliament, and the king has 
 to take a solemn pledge to this effect : " The King to 
 all those . . . &c. Hail. — We desire, grant, and estab- 
 lish for us, and our heirs, and successors, with the assent 
 of the prelates, earls, barons, and Commons of our said 
 kingdom of England . . . that, because we are king of 
 France and that the said kingdom appertaineth to us 
 . . . our aforesaid kingdom of England, nor the people 
 thereof, of whatsoever estate or condition they be, shall 
 never, now or hereafter, be put under subjection of, or 
 
1 6 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 obedience to us, our heirs, or successors, as kings of 
 France." ^ 
 
 When the distant interests of the Crown are in 
 question, the Commons express themselves modestly, 
 and even, occasionally, refuse to express themselves at 
 all. Consulted in 1334, on the subject of the attitude 
 to be observed tov/ards France, they reply, in respectflil 
 terms, that it is the king's affair, and not theirs : " And 
 it seemeth to us that our aforesaid lord, the king, must 
 act towards that country as seemeth best to his lord- 
 ship, being a thing that he has inherited, and that 
 has descended to his royal person by direct lineage, and 
 appertaineth not to the kingdom or crown of England."- 
 But when the question concerns the kingdom of England, 
 no more modesty or timidity ; the Commons denounce, 
 threaten, condemn even. Under the last Plantagenets, 
 the English could say, as they do to-day : " The busi- 
 ness of the State is my business." 
 
 While they were intent upon diminishing the 
 
 ^ "Lc roi a toutz ceux . . . [etc.] Saluz . . . Voloms, grantoms 
 et establissoms pur nous et pur noz heirs et succcssours, par assent 
 des prelats, countcs, barouns et Communes dc nostre dit roialme 
 d'Engleterre . . . qe par cause ou colour de ceo qe nous soioms 
 Roi de France et qe ledit roialme nous appartient . . . nostre die 
 roialme d'Engleterre ne les gentz d'ycell dc quel estat ne condition 
 qu'ils soient, ne soient en nul temps avenir, mys en la subjection 
 de nous, noz heirs ne successours come roys de France." — "Statutes 
 of the Realm," 14 Ed. III., st. 5, year 1340. 
 
 ^ "Et lour semble que nostre dit Seigneur le Roi poet et doit 
 faire en celle partie sicome a sa noble seigneurie mieltz semblera a 
 faire, come de chose qu'est son propre heritage, qu'est par droit 
 lignage roiale descenduz a sa noble persone et noun pas appartcnant 
 al roialme ne a la coroune d'Engleterre." — "Rotuli Parliamen- 
 torum," vol. iii. p. 170. 
 
THE WORK AND THE DAY. 17 
 
 power of the king with regard to themselves, impeach- 
 ing his ministers and domineering over his household, 
 the Commons endeavoured to magnify their sovereign 
 abroad. It was another way of magnifying themselves, 
 for they were, at times, the real sovereigns of England, 
 or, at least, they were partners with the king in his 
 kingship. If the English interests engaged in France 
 do not move them much, they keep an eye on the 
 foreign interests subsisting in England. They do not 
 tire of denouncing the Jews and Lombards, cosmopolitan 
 bankers and aliens ; the friars and monks of extraneous 
 origin admitted into English convents, men too without 
 a country ; and above all are they anxious concerning 
 the close ties that bind England to Rome, and the 
 power which the Pope exercises in their island. 
 
 They struggle to obtain the diminution of this power, 
 which will be transferred to the king ; and again, in 
 this respect, the nation coalesces and consolidates, 
 and we behold the foreshadowing of a movement in 
 favour of the royal supremacy which will produce, under 
 Henry VIII., its definitive results. Hence these statutes 
 of " Provisors " and " Pr^munire," and the confirma- 
 tions of the same, which were periodically made,^ with 
 the object ot restricting the action of Rome in the 
 presentation to benefices in England, and also of pre- 
 venting those appeals to the Pontifical Court of which 
 the consequences, according to the Commons, were to 
 "undo and adnul the laws of the realm."- In 1366, 
 
 ^ See especially 25 Ed. III., st. 6 ; 27 Ed. III., st. i ; 38 Ed. 
 III., St. 2 ; 3 Rich. II., chap. 3 ; 12 Rich. II., chap. 15 ; 13 Rich. 
 II., St. 2, chap, 2; 16 Rich. II., chap. 5. "Statutes of the Realm." 
 
 - "Rotuli Parliamentorum," 25 Ed. III., 1350-51. 
 
1 8 PIERS PL O IVMAN. 
 
 Parliament declares void and of no effect the deed by 
 which John Lackland had acknowledged the suzerainty 
 of the Pope over the kingdom, and Edward III. ex- 
 pressly refuses the tribute to the Roman Pontiff, instead 
 of simply not paying it, as had been the case for many 
 years. 
 
 This movement was facilitated by the decline of the 
 papal prestige. From 1305, the popes are settled at 
 Avignon. They leave that town for Rome in 1376, 
 but soon after, in 1378, begins the great schism of the 
 West, which lasts till 1449. There are now two popes, 
 and Christendom stands divided ; apostles of peace and 
 
 --- vicars of Christ though they be, the two Holy Fathers 
 
 ^ war with each other. Urban TIL orders a crusade to be 
 
 preached in England against Clement VII. and the 
 French ; there is fighting in Flanders, and the English 
 are led by a bishop, Henry le Despencer, to the great 
 scandal of all right-minded Christians. 
 
 The tendencies to regular formation, which manifest 
 themselves in the land, are periodically stopped and 
 thwarted, and a variety of events, sudden and terrible 
 for the most part, come and cast perturbation in men's 
 minds and cause disorganisation in the State : pestilences, 
 tempests, heresies, revolts, disasters of all kinds. Calm 
 reigns again, and patient humanity resumes its work ; 
 the plague reappears, and the stone rolls back once 
 more. ^The principal plagues were those of 1349, 
 1 36 1-2, 1369, and 1375.' The first was fearful 
 above all the others. The depopulation was such that 
 
 ^ This, T think, is the right year. See, contra, Skeat, " Piers 
 Plowman," Oxford edition, vol. ii. p. xiii, who dates this last 
 plague 1376. 
 
THE WORK AND THE DAY. 19 
 
 the king forbade his subjects, by an act of December 
 I, 1349, to quit the kingdom: "Quia non modica 
 pars populi regni nostri Angliae in praesenti pestilentia 
 est defuncta, et thesaurus ejusdem regni plurimum ex- 
 haustus." I Exception is necessarily made for mes- 
 sengers, merchants, and men of business. About half 
 the population had perished, whence arose an excessive 
 increase in the price of labour and an extraordinary 
 confusion in the relations of class to class. 
 
 Murrains make cruel ravages, frightful storms destroy 
 the crops, earthquakes spread terror. The monks of 
 Meaux, near Beverley, were singing vespers ; as they 
 came to the verse, " Deposuit potentes de sede," a 
 concussion took place, and they were thrown from their 
 stalls.- The ruin of Basel by an earthquake, in 1356, 
 spread throughout Christendom the same feeling of awe 
 as did the news of a similar disaster at Lisbon in the 
 last century. On the 14th of April, 1360, such a 
 terrible tempest bursts in England, that men are killed 
 by the hail, and during the storm, " the devil appeared 
 in human shape ; and it spoke." 3 A tremendous 
 hurricane devastated England anew, on the ^^th of 
 January, 1362,4 followed by another, the year after. 
 
 ^ Rymer, " Foedera," 1705, vol. v. p. 668. 
 
 - "Chronica Monasterii de Melsa," London ("Rolls"), vol. iii. 
 p. 69, A.D. 1349. 
 
 3 " Eo tempore, in Anglia, plures homines, bestia; et arbores 
 violenter fulgure perierunt; et diabolus in humana specie apparens 
 locutus est." Walsingham, " Historia Anglicana," vol. i. p. 290 
 ("Rolls"). Cf. Continuator of Murimuth, " Chronica," London, 
 1846 (English Historical Society), p. 193. 
 
 + On this hurricane, see 'uifra. Chap. II. i. In 1363, the 
 Commons complain to the king, "come par les pestilences et 
 
20 FIERS PL 1 VMAN. 
 
 An earthquake took place in 1 382.1 No wonder that, 
 amidst so many shocks, which were held to be warnings 
 from on high, and attributed to supernatural causes, 
 minds should sometimes lose their balance, that the 
 limits which separate reason from folly should be over- 
 stepped, and that the age should produce half-mad 
 poets of genius, and nearly insane religious sects, all of 
 them foretelling the end of the world. We shall have 
 occasion to speak of both poets and sects. 
 
 Edward III. grows old ; the taste for pleasure which 
 he has always had now remains his only one. Formerly 
 his pleasures had at least that dclat which youth will 
 give, and they were mingled with glory. Now, no more 
 youth, no more glory, no more Countesses of Salisbury; 
 Alice Ferrers replaces her. Alice pillages and extorts, 
 corrupts the judges, and sells the king. The Countess 
 was beautiful ; Alice is not ; a shadow is over the 
 king and court. So far back as 1345, the inordinate 
 expenditure of the sovereign, and his loans to carry on 
 his amusements and wars, have caused the failure of the 
 Italian bankers, Bardi, Peruzzi, and Bonaccursi; renewed 
 wars and pestilences increase the penury of the ex- 
 chequer ; the Commons become threatening. In the 
 "Good Parliament" of 1376, that sits from the 28th 
 of April to the 6th of July, they impeach royalty itself. 
 The Black Prince dies on the 8th of June, leaving his 
 son Richard, a child of ten, heir to the throne. Between 
 the old king and his grandson, both incapable, John of 
 Gaunt, third son of Edward III., finds himself, for a 
 
 grantz ventz sont diverses meschiefs et merveillouses avenuz . . .," 
 &c. " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 279. 
 
 ' Wright's "Political Poems," vol. i. p. 243 ("Rolls"). 
 
THE WORK AND THE DAY, 21 
 
 time, in spite of his unpopularity, the most powerful 
 man of the kingdom. The " Bad ParHament," an 
 outcome of packed elections, assembles on the 27th 
 of January, 1377, and undoes the work of the "Good 
 Parliament." Edward dies on the 21st of June, and 
 Richard II. mounts the throne. 
 
 Never did prince find himself face to face with 
 similar difficulties ; he succumbed under them ; and in 
 most of the judgments brought against him, too large a 
 part in the disaster has been attributed to his faults, 
 and too small a one to the difficulties of the time. In 
 his reign occurred the great schism of 1378 ; the con- 
 demnation of Wyclif by the University of Oxford, 
 mostly on account of his having denied the doctrine 
 of transubstantiation, in 138 i ; the great rising of the 
 peasants in the same year, who took London, murdered 
 the Archbishop of Canterbury, and were on the point 
 of overthrowing the whole social order ; the quarrel 
 of the " lords appellant " and of the counsellors of 
 the king. In 1389 Richard dismisses his council, 
 and with the aid of the Commons begins his per- 
 sonal government ; he rules the land with skill and 
 sagacity. From 1397 the final catastrophe is pre- 
 paring. Richard governs without a parliament, as 
 an absolute monarch ; he disinherits his cousin Henry 
 of Derby, son of John of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster, 
 and goes to Ireland. Henry returns suddenly from exile 
 and lands in England, on July 4th, 1399. Richard is 
 captured and deposed. Henry, first of the Lancastrians, 
 comes before Parliament, and challenges and assumes 
 the crown of England. Richard is put to death. 
 
 With the accession of Henry IV. closes the period 
 
2 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 with which we have to do. In 1400, our visionary 
 ceases to write, Froissart stops his chronicles, Chaucer 
 dies. 
 
 III. 
 
 It may appear illogical to speak of the book first, and 
 of the author afterwards. But the case is an excep- 
 tional one, and we have no choice. No contemporary 
 writer having mentioned our visionary, and there being 
 no document relating to him, we can only form an idea 
 of his person through his works. It is not putting " la 
 charrue avant les boeufs" ; there are no " boeufs." 
 
 A considerable number of manuscripts of the XlVth 
 and XVth centuries have preserved for us the visions 
 " de Petro Plowman," so called from the hero of the 
 poem, " Peter the Ploughman." These manuscripts 
 differ considerably from one another ; the author 
 seems to have spent his life in remodelling his work ; 
 it would almost seem as if he identified himself with 
 it, to the extent of having no other care, observing, 
 pondering, and adding. In the midst of this variety of 
 texts, three versions or chief remodellings are discernible, 
 with which the others are more or less closely con- 
 nected. The latest and most eminent editor of the 
 poem has named them texts x\, B, and C.^ The basis 
 
 ^ Mr. Skeat has given two excellent editions of the three texts : 
 1st. "The Vision ofWilliam concerning Piers Plowman, together 
 with Vita de Dowel, Dobet and Dobest, secundum Wit, and Resoun, 
 by William Langland." London, Early English Text Society, 
 1867-84, 4 vols. 8vo. 2nd. "The Vision of William concerning 
 Piers Plowman, in three parallel texts, together with Richard the 
 Redeless, by William Langland." Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1886, 
 2 vols. 8vo. 
 
THE WORK AND THE DAY. 23 
 
 and purport of the work are the same in the three 
 texts, but the dimensions vary ; the first is the 
 briefest, the last the most developed. " A " contains 
 twelve cantos or passHS, " B " twenty, and " C " twenty- 
 three. 
 
 Here is the substance of the poem. Analysed, it 
 will appear incoherent and shapeless, but should not, 
 on that account, be condemned. No analysis can give 
 a satisfactory idea of that mingling of realities and 
 shadows : tangible realities, changing shadows. " It 
 looks like a whale," observed Prince Hamlet, gazing 
 at the clouds ..." or rather like a weasel. , ." The 
 same thing might be said of the poem of the Plowman. 
 
 The sun mounts in the heavens, and reddens the 
 summit of the Malvern hills ; in the freshness of the 
 morning, to the musical sound of waters, " it sowned so 
 murrie," the poet falls asleep, and the first of his visions 
 begins. He contemplates 
 
 Al the wclthe of this worldc • and the woo bothe ; 
 
 and, in an immense plain, "a feir feld ful of folk," 
 he notices the movements and bustle of mankind, 
 
 Of alle maner of men • the mene and the riche. 
 
 Mankind is represented by typical specimens of all 
 sorts : knights, monks, parsons, workmen singing 
 French songs, cooks crying : hot pies ! " hote pyes, 
 hote ! " pardoners, pilgrims, preachers, beggars, jang- 
 lers who will not work, japers and " mynstralles " that 
 sell " glee." They are, or nearly so, the same beings 
 Chaucer assembled at the '* Tabard " inn, on the eve of 
 
2 4 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 his pilgrimage to Canterbury, This crowd has likewise 
 a pilgrimage to make, not however on the sunny high 
 road that leads from Southwark to the shrine of St. 
 Thomas. No, they journey through abstract coun- 
 tries, they follow mystic roads ; they accomplish, some 
 three hundred years before Bunyan's Christian, their 
 pilgrim's progress in search of Truth and of Supreme 
 Good. 
 
 A lady appears, who explains the landscape and the 
 vision ; she is Holy-Church. Yonder tower is the 
 tower of Truth : 
 
 " The tourc up the toft," quod she • " trcuthe is therc-inne." 
 
 This castle is the " Castel of Care," that contains 
 " Wronge." Holy-Church points out how mankind 
 ought to live, and teaches kings and knights their 
 duties with regard to Truth, 
 
 Here comes Lady Meed, a lady of importance, 
 whose friendship means perdition, yet without whom 
 nothing can be done, and who plays an immense part 
 in the world. The monosyllable which designates her 
 has a vague and extended signification ; it means both 
 reward and bribery. Disinterestedness, the virtue or 
 noble minds, being rare in this world, scarcely any- 
 thing is undertaken without hope of recompense, and 
 what man, toiling solely with a view to recompense, is 
 quite safe from bribery.'' So Lady Meed is there, 
 beautiful, alluring, perplexing ; to get on without her 
 is impossible, and yet it is hard to know what to do 
 with her. She is about to marry *' Fals " ; the 
 friends and witnesses have arrived, the marriage deed 
 
THE WORK AND THE DA Y. 25 
 
 is drawn up ; the pair are to have the " Erldome of 
 Envye," 
 
 With the chastelet of Chest (strife) • and Chatcryng out of 
 resoun ; ^ 
 
 and other territories that recall the worst regions ot the 
 celebrated map of the Tendre. Opposition is made to 
 the marriage, and the whole wedding party starts for 
 Westminster, where the cause is to be awarded ; friends, 
 relations, bystanders ; on foot, on horseback, and in 
 carriages ; a singular procession ! 
 
 The king, notified of the coming of the cortege, 
 publicly declares he will deal justice to the knaves, and 
 the procession melts away ; most of the friends disappear 
 at a racing pace, through the lanes of London. The 
 poet hastens to lodge the greatest scoundrels with the 
 people he hates, and has them received with open 
 arms. " Gyle " is welcomed by the merchants, who 
 dress him as an apprentice, and make him wait on their 
 customers, " Lyer " has at first hard work to find 
 shelter ; he hides in the obscure holes of the alleys, 
 " lorkynge thorw lanes " ; no door opens, his felonies 
 are too notorious. At last, the pardoners " hadden pite 
 and pullede hym to house." 
 
 Thei woshe hym and wypede hym • and wondc hym in cloutes, 
 And sente hym on sonncday^es • with seeles to churches, 
 And gaf pardons for pans (pence). 
 
 Then leeches send him letters to say that, if he would 
 assist them " waters to loke," he should be well re- 
 ceived ; spicers have an interview with him ; minstrels 
 and messengers keep him " half a yere and eleve 
 
 ' B. ii. 84. 
 
26 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 dayes ; " friars dress him as a friar, and, with them, he 
 forms the friendliest ties of all. ' 
 
 Lady Meed appears before the king's tribunal ; she 
 is beautiful, she looks gentle, she produces a great 
 effect ; she is Phryne before her judges, with the 
 addition of a garment ; the judges melt, they cheer 
 her, and so do the clerks, the friars, and all those 
 that approach her. She is so pretty ! and so kind ! 
 anything you will, she wills it too ; no one feels 
 bashful in her presence ; she is indeed so kind ! A 
 friar offers her the boon of an absolution which he 
 will grant her " himself" ; but she must do good to 
 the brotherhood : We have a window begun that will 
 cost us dear ; if you would pay for the stained glass of 
 the gable, your name should be engraved thereon, and 
 to heaven would go your soul.- Meed is willing. 
 The king appears and examines her ; he decides to 
 marry her, not to Fals, but to the Knight Conscience. 
 Meed is willing ; she is always willing. 
 
 The Knight comes, refuses, and lays bare thfe ill- 
 practices of Meed, who corrupts all the orders of the 
 kingdom, and has caused the death of "yowre fadre" 
 (your father, King Edward II.). She would not be an 
 amiable spouse ; she is " as comune as the cart-wey." 
 She connives with the Pope in the presentation to 
 benefices ; she obtains bishoprics for fools, " theighe 
 they be lewed," 
 
 For she is privc with the pope • provisourcs it knowcth ; 
 
 Meed weeps, which is already a good answer ; then, 
 having recovered the use of speech, she defends herself 
 
 ' See the whole passage in Appendix, III. - See Appendix, IV. 
 
THE WORK AND THE DAY. 27 
 
 cleverly : the world would fall into a torpor without 
 Meed ; knights would no longer care for kings ; 
 priests would no longer say masses ; minstrels would 
 sing no more songs ; merchants would not trade ; and 
 even beggars would no longer beg. 
 
 The Knight tartly replies : There are two kinds 
 of Meed. We knew it ; there is reward, and there 
 is bribery, but they are always confounded. Ah ! 
 if Reason reigned in this world instead of Meed, the 
 golden age would return. No more wars ; no more 
 of these varieties of tribunals, where Justice herself 
 gets confused. At this, Meed becomes " wroth as 
 the wynde." i 
 
 Enough, says the King ; I can stand you no longer ; 
 you must both serve me : 
 
 " Kisse hir," quod the Kyngc " "Conscience, I hotc (bid)." 
 " Nay, bi Criste," quod Conscience • " congeye me (dismiss 
 me) for evere ! " 
 
 And the quarrel continues ; they send for Reason, 
 who shall decide it. Reason has his horses saddled ; 
 they have interminable names such as " Suffre-til-I-see- 
 my-tyme." Long before the time of the Puritans, our 
 visionary employs names equivalent to phrases. We 
 meet, in his poem, with a little girl, called Behave-well- 
 or-thy-mother-will-give-thee-a-whipping,- a scarcely 
 
 ^ B. iii. 328. 
 
 - Daughter of Piers Plowman ; all the family is similarly en- 
 dowed with unwieldy names : 
 
 Dame Worche-whcn-tyme-is • Peers wyf hyhte ; 
 
 Hus douhter hihte Do-ryght-so-'other-thy-damme-shal-the-bete ; 
 
 Hus sone hihte Suffre-"thy-sovereynes-have-here-wil- 
 
 deme-hem-nouht-for-yf-thow-do-*thow-shalt-dere-abigge. 
 C. ix. 80. 
 
 3 
 
28 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 practical name for every-day life ; another personage, 
 Evan the Welshman, rejoices in a name six lines long.^ 
 Reason arrives at Court ; the dispute between Meed 
 and Conscience is dropped and forgotten, for another 
 one has arisen. " Thanne come Pees into Parlement." 
 Peace presents a petition against Wrong, and enume- 
 rates his evil actions. He has led astray Rose and 
 Margaret ; he keeps a troup of retainers who assist 
 him in his misdeeds ; he attacks farms, and carries 
 off the crops ; he is so powerful that none dare stir 
 or complain : 
 
 I dar noughtc for fere of hym • fyghte ne chyde. 
 
 These are not vain fancies. The Rolls of Parliament, 
 the actual Parliament that was sitting at Westminster, 
 contain numbers of similar petitions, where the real 
 name of Wrong is given, and where the king en- 
 deavours to reply, as he does in the poem, according 
 to the counsels of Reason. 
 
 Reason makes a speech to the entire nation, assem- 
 bled in that plain which is discovered from the heights 
 of Malvern, and where we found ourselves at the 
 beginning of the Visions. 
 
 Then a change of scene. These scene-shiftings are 
 frequent, unexpected, and rapid as in an opera. 
 *' Then . . . ," says the poet, without further ex- 
 planation : then the scene shifts ; the plain has dis- 
 appeared ; a new personage. Repentance, now listens 
 to the confession of the Deadly Sins. This is one 
 of the most striking passages of the poem. In spite 
 ' C. vii. 310. 
 
THE WORK AND THE DA Y. 29 
 
 of their abstract names, these sins are tangible realities ; 
 the author describes their shape and their costumes ; 
 some are bony, others are tun-bellied; singular ab- 
 stractions with warts on their noses ! We were just 
 now in Parliament with the victims of the powerful 
 and the wicked ; we now hear the general confession 
 of England in the time of the Plantagenets.^ 
 
 That the conversion may be a lasting one, Truth 
 must be sought after. Piers Plowman appears, a >. 
 mystic personage, a variable emblem, that here simply 
 represents the man of " good will," and elsewhere 
 stands for Christ himself. He teaches the way ; 
 gates must be entered, castles encountered, and the 
 Ten Commandments will be passed through. Above 
 all, he teaches every one his present duties, his 
 active and definite obligations ; he protests against 
 useless and unoccupied lives, against those who have 
 since been termed " dilettanti," for whom life is a 
 sight, and who limit their function to being sight- 
 seers, to amusing themselves and judging others : 
 they have no part in the play ; they are the audience. 
 All those who live upon earth have actual, practical , 
 duties, even you, lovely ladies : 
 
 And ye, lovely ladyes * with youre longe fyngres. 
 
 All must defend, or till, or sow the field of life. 
 The ploughing commences, but it is soon apparent that 
 some pretend to labour, and labour not ; they are lazy or 
 talkative, and sing songs. Piers succeeds in mastering 
 them by the help of Hunger. Thanks to Hunger and 
 
 ' C. vii. 
 
30 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 Truth, possibilities are seen of a reform, of a future 
 Golden Age, an island of England that shall be 
 similar to the island of Utopia, imagined later by 
 another Englishman. ^ 
 
 The vision rises and fades away ; another vision and 
 another pilgrimage commence, and occupy all the 
 remainder of the poem, that is, from the xith to the 
 xxiiid passus (C text). The poet endeavours to join 
 in their dwellings, Dowel, Dobet, and Dobest, in other 
 terms : Good - life, Better - life, and Best - life. All 
 this part of the book is filled with sermons, most of 
 them energetic, eloquent, spirited, full of masterly 
 touches leaving an ineffaceable impression on the 
 memory and the heart : sermon of Wit, treating 
 mainly of marriage ; sermon of Study on the Bible 
 and on Arts and Letters ; sermon of Clergye and 
 of Ymagvnatyf ; dialogue between Hawkyn (active 
 life) and Patience ; sermons of Faith, Hope, and 
 Charity. Several visions are intermingled with these 
 sermons, visions of the arrival of Christ in Jerusalem, 
 and of the Passion ; visions of hell attacked by Jesus, 
 and defended by Satan and Lucifer with " brasene 
 gonnes," a then recent invention, which appeared par- 
 ticularly diabolical. Milton's Satan, in spite of having 
 had three hundred years in which to improve his 
 tactics, will find nothing better ; his batteries are 
 ranged in good order ; a seraph stands behind each 
 cannon with lighted match ; at the first discharge, 
 angels and archangels fall to the ground : 
 
 By thousands, Angel on Archangel rolled. 
 
 ' C. viii. to X. 
 
THE WORK AND THE DAY. 31 
 
 They are not killed, but painfully suffer from a know- 
 ledge that they look ridiculous : " an indecent over- 
 throw," they call it. The fiends, exhilarated by this 
 sight, roar noisily, ' and it is hard for us to take a 
 tragical view of this massacring of angels. 
 
 In our Visions, Christ, conqueror of hell, liberates 
 the souls that await his coming, and the poet awakes 
 to the sound of bells on Easter m.orning. 
 
 The poem ends amid doleful apparitions ; now 
 comes Antichrist, then Old Age, and Death, Years 
 have fled, death draws near ; only a short time 
 remains to live ; how employ it to the best advan- 
 tage.'' (Dobet), Advise me, Nature ! cries the poet, 
 ^' Love ! " replies Nature : 
 
 " Lerne to love," quod Kynde " " and leve of alle othrc." 
 
 ^ The angels become " to their foes a laughter." " Paradise 
 Lost," vi. 601, Invention of guns, vi. 470. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 
 I. 
 
 SUCH is the substance of these Visions, of which 
 we possess three principal versions, composed at 
 different periods. Is it possible to date them? 
 These texts all contain allusions to contemporaneous 
 events. The oldest and briefest of them mentions the 
 abuse of the papal provisions : Meed is " prive with 
 the pope, provisours hit knowen." These same " pro- 
 visours " are used as horses for " Sire Symonye " to 
 ride upon : 
 
 And Icttc apparaylc provisours • on palfrcis wyse, 
 Sire Symonye hym-selfe shal * sitte on here bakkis.' 
 
 " Provisours " are those men who solicited and ob- 
 tained from the Holy See, frequently by illicit means, 
 presentations to benefices, even before the death of the 
 incumbents, to the detriment of the English patrons 
 of these benefices. We have seen that the object of 
 the numerous statutes of " Pro visors " and " Prae- 
 munire " in the XlVth century was the suppression 
 of these abuses, which were, however, perpetually 
 
 ' A. iii. 14.2 ; A. ii. 148. 
 32 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 33 
 
 recurring, so that the constant renewal of the statutes 
 became necessary. If, therefore, the abuse is men- 
 tioned as an actual one, it is likely the passage was 
 written in the intermediary period, between two 
 statutes, and at a certain distance after the first, since 
 this evil custom had had time to reappear. As will 
 be perceived, the date of the other allusions in the 
 same text shows that the mention of this abuse must 
 refer to the period comprised between the first statute 
 
 iMEED "ox A SCIIIRREVES BACK I-SCHOD AL NEWE." 
 
 of " Provisors " in 1350-51, and the earliest con- 
 firmation of the same, given in 1364-5. The effect 
 of the first statute does not seem to have been felt at 
 once, for the Commons lodge again the same complaint 
 in the two following years. They cease then to repeat 
 it for several years ; but the ill custom creeps in anew, 
 and the statements in the Act of 1364-5 prove that^ 
 
34 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 in the Parliament of Westminster as well as in the 
 Visions, Meed was believed " to be prive with the 
 pope." I 
 
 At another place, are set forth the crimes of Wronge. 
 This enumeration much resembles the usual series 
 of petitions in Parliament, by which the Commons 
 begged for the redress of abuses. Three principal 
 grievances are brought by the poet against this per- 
 turber of the public peace, which are : the exercise of 
 the right of purveyance, which gave occasion to all 
 sorts of excesses, as, under pretext of acting for the 
 king, the purveyors borrowed of the poor peasants 
 their beasts of burden, their carts, their corn, &c., and 
 neither paid for nor restored them ; the forestalling 
 of merchandise in order to bring about a factitious rise in 
 the prices, and to increase the profits of the seller ; the 
 *' maintenance " of lawsuits, quarrels, &c., by means 
 of armed men. The leaders of bands of this kind 
 committed all manner of misdeeds, and supported by 
 violent means, not only their own quarrels, but those 
 of all who paid them well. Now, these three abuses, 
 
 ' The statute is framed against all those who appeal to the 
 Court of Rome : " Aussi touz ceux q'ont impetrez ou impetrent 
 <ie la dit court [de Rome] deanees, arce-deaknces, provostez et 
 autres dignitces, offices, chapelles ou autrcs benefices d'Eglises 
 quelconques appartcnantz a la collation, donation, presentation ou 
 disposition nostre dit seigneur le Roi ou d'autre patron lai de son 
 dit realme : Et aussi totes semblables persones impetrours d'cglises, 
 ■chapelles, offices, benefices d'Eglise, pensions ou rentes amortisez 
 et apropriez as esglises cathcdrales ou collegiales, abbaiees, priories, 
 chanteries, hospitalx, ou autres povres maisons avant ce, qe tieles 
 apropriations et amortissementz soient cassez et anullez par due 
 proces." 1364-5, " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 284. 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 35 
 
 mentioned in text A, are also denounced by the 
 Commons in the Parliament of 1 362.1 
 
 In another passage —differing in this from Chaucer, 
 who never speaks of them — the author gives his opinion 
 concerning the wars with France. Sharing on this, as 
 on most other points, the views of the Commons of 
 England, he ardently wishes for peace, and approves of 
 the one just concluded ; - he blames those nobles who 
 
 ^ He borwede of me bayvard • and brouhte him never ageyn, 
 Ne no ferthing him fore • for nought that I con plede. 
 He meynteneth his men * to morthere myn owne, 
 Forstalleth my feire • fihtcth in my chepynges (bargains), 
 Breketh up my bcrne-dore • and bereth awei my whcte, 
 And taketh (gives) me bote a tayle • of ten quarter oten. 
 
 A. iv. 40. In the parliament of 1362 (36 Ed. III.) the Commons 
 protest against exactly the same abuses: i. Against purveyors; 
 they ask, " Que le hcignous noun dc Purvciour soit change et 
 nome Achatour." 2. Against maintencrs : " Qe les Sencschalx, 
 tresorers, cortrerollours et touz autres officers et autres quelconques 
 des ditz Hostclx (of the King, Oueen, &c.) soient mis au tiel 
 peine come plest au roi, en cas qe nul soit trove meintenour ou 
 favorable au contraire des ordinances. 3. Against forestallers : 
 " Oc les ditz Justices cient poair d'enquerrc si bien des vitaillers, 
 regraters, forstallcrs. . ." " Rotuli Parliamcntorum," vol. ii. pp. 
 269, 270, 271. Complaints on these subjects are frequent. 
 
 ^ This tendency of the Commons in favour of peace had already 
 resulted in a significant declaration, six years earlier. " Donqes," 
 the chamberlain had said, in Parliament, "vous voillez assentir au 
 tretce du pees perpetuel si homme la puisse avoir .'' — Et les dites 
 Communes respondirent enticrement et uniement : oil ! oil !" 1354, 
 "Rotuli Parliamcntorum," vol. ii. p. 262. The peace of Bretigny 
 was ratified by Parliament: "In quo [Parliamento] tota materia 
 concordias coram omnibus qui aderant fuerat proposita ac etiam 
 declarata ; placuit etiam universis dictam concordiam recipere et 
 tenere." Jan., 136 1. Continuator of Murimuth, 1846, p. 194. 
 
36 PIERS PLOW Ai AN. 
 
 would have desired the continuation of the war in the 
 hope of obtaining vast domains in France ; he con- 
 gratulates the king on the *' lordschupe " he has re- 
 nounced, though his pretensions extended to the 
 richest kingdom ever fertilised by rain : 
 
 That is the ricchcst reame • that rcyn over hoveth/ 
 
 The king has done well to follow the advice of Con- 
 science, and return " hamward," after the hardships of 
 the campaign,- the tempests he was exposed to, and 
 that terrible " dim cloude." The sum of money re- 
 ceived was not to be refused. 
 
 The allusion is here quite clear, and the date beyond 
 doubt ; the treaty of Bretigny is meant, 1360. The 
 king is Edward III.; the " lordschupe," the crown of 
 France, all rights to which Edward renounced at this 
 time, in the most solemn manner. " And if we do," says 
 he, in the charter he signed soon after, " cause or allow 
 the contrary to be done — which God forbid — may we 
 be held and reputed for false and disloyal, and may 
 we encounter the blame and defame which a crowned 
 king should encounter in such a case ; and we swear, 
 on the body of Jesus Christ, these aforesaid things to 
 keep, hold, and accomplish," 3 The sum of money 
 alluded to is the ransom of Jean - le - Bon, taken 
 prisoner at Poictiers, three million crowns of gold ; the 
 
 ^ A. iii. 201. ~ In which Chaucer had been taken prisoner. 
 
 3 "Et si nous faisions procurions ou souffrions ctre fait le contraire, 
 — que Dieu ne veuille ! — nous voulons etre tenu et repute pour 
 men(^ongier et deloyal, et voulons encourre en tel blame et dit- 
 fame comme roi sacrc doit encourir en tel cas. Et jurons sur le 
 corps Jesus-Christ les choses dites tenir, garder et accomplir." 
 Calais, Oct. 24, 1360 ; Froissart, " Chronicles,'' chap, cdliv. 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 37 
 
 sufferings of the army are recounted at length by 
 Froissart ; the " dim cloude " is that tempest which 
 terrified the English host before Chartres, and putting 
 the finishing stroke to their discouragement, hastened 
 the conclusion of the peace : " For there happened to 
 the King of England and to all his men a great miracle, 
 he being before Chartres, that much humbled and 
 broke his spirit. For . . . such a great and horrible 
 storm came down from heaven upon the army of the 
 king, that it seemed, truly, as if the end of the 
 world were nigh ; for there fell from the sky, stones 
 so big that men and horses were killed by them, and 
 the boldest were amazed thereby. Therefore, the King 
 of England looked towards the church of Our Lady 
 of Chartres, and surrendered himself to Our Lady, and 
 devoutly vowed and promised to her, as he has since- 
 declared and confessed, that he would agree to peace." ^ 
 The return " hamward " began on the spot, for peace 
 was signed in the village of Bretigny-lez-Chartres on 
 the 8 th of May, and we find Edward in England ten 
 days later. 
 
 But there is evidence still more conclusive ; and, with- 
 out speaking of the allusion to the disturbances caused 
 
 ^ "Car il avint [au roi d'Angleterre] et a toutes ses gens un 
 grand miracle, lui etant devant Chartres, qui moult humilia et brisa 
 son courage. Car . . . un orage si grand et si horrible descendit 
 du ciel en Tost du roi d'Angleterre que il sembla bien proprement 
 que le siecle diit finir; car il cheoit de I'air pierres si grosses que 
 elles tuoient hommes et chevaux, et en furent les plus hardis tout 
 ebahis. Et adonc regarda le roi- d'Angleterre devers I'eglise 
 Notre-Dame de Chartres et se rendit et voua a Notre-Dame 
 devotement et promit, si comme il dit et confessa depuis, que il 
 s'accorderoit a la paix." Ibid., chap, cdlvi. 
 
38 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 by the plague, which reappeared again about that 
 time, 1361-62,1 we find the description of a hurricane 
 that had just taken place. Our visionary regards it as 
 a token of divine wrath : 
 
 And this south-westerne wynt • on a Seterday at even 
 Was a-perteliche for pruide " and for no poynt elles. 
 Piries and plomtres • weore passchet to the grounde ... 
 Beches and brode okes • weore blowen to the eorthe, 
 And turned upward the tayl.^ 
 
 We read in the Continuator of Adam of Murimuth : 
 **A.D. 1362, XV die Januarii, circa horam vesperarum, 
 ventus vehemens, notus Australis Africus, tanta rabie 
 erupit, quod flatu suo domos altas, ^dificia sublimia, 
 turres, campanilia, arbores . . . violenter prostravit." 3 
 Both descriptions fit closely ; the same tempest is 
 meant, the hour is the same, the wind comes from the 
 south ; the Vision mentions that it took place on a 
 Saturday, and the 15th of January, 1362, fell on that 
 day of the week.+ 
 
 ' The visionary deplores, in his usual forcible way, the neglect 
 into which have fallen the rites of matrimony, " seththen the 
 pestilence," A, x. 185. At another place, he speaks of " this pes- 
 tilences," A. V. 13, alluding to the two that had appeared in 
 England, viz., in 1349 ^^'^ ^ 361-2. ~ A. v. 14. 
 
 3 " Adami Murimethensis Chronica," London, 1846, p. 193. 
 
 4 The identification of this tempest is due to Tyrwhitt (see note 
 in the Advertisement for the glossary of his edition of the "Can- 
 terbury Tales," 1798). The date is 1362, even according to our 
 way of reckoning, for the Continuator of Murimuth, instead of 
 beginning his years in March, as many of his contemporaries did, 
 begins them at Christmas. An account of the tempest, derived 
 from the Continuator, is given under the same date by Walsingham, 
 i. p. 296 ("Rolls"), and by the " Chronicon Anglic," p. 50 
 
THE THREE VERSrONS OF THE POEM. 39 
 
 From all this we must conclude that the A text was 
 written in 1362, or soon after. 
 
 II. 
 
 Most of the allusions contained in the first version 
 are retained in the amplified texts of the poem, " B " 
 and *' C," in spite of the confusion which results from 
 this. For instance, in the C text, certainly composed 
 under Richard II., who was childless, Reason continues, 
 as he did in the A text, to seat himself between the 
 king and his son, by whom was primitively meant 
 Edward III, and his son the Black Prince : 
 
 Corteisliche the kyng ■ thenne com to Resoun, 
 Bitwene himself and his sone ■ sette him on benche.' 
 
 The author cared little for these discrepancies ; we 
 must note it now, once tor all. But new allusions are 
 found in the added passages of the B and C texts, and, 
 thanks to them, we are enabled to date both. 
 
 \One of the most curious and interesting additions in 
 the whole poem is that in the B text, consisting of 
 the fable of the rats who wish to hang a bell about the 
 cat's neck. This fable was famous, in England as well 
 as France, during the Middle Ages. To take examples, 
 we find it in England, in the Latin collection of Odo 
 de Cheriton (early Xlllth century) ; in the series of 
 moralised tales, written in French prose, about 1320, by 
 
 ("Rolls"). The disaster was alluded to in Parliament. The 
 Commons complain, in 1 362, of " diverses pestilences de vent, eawe 
 et mortalite de gentz ct de bestaillc." " Rotuli Parliamentorum,"' 
 vol. ii. p. 269. 
 
 ' A. iv. 31 ; cf. B. iv. 44, and C. v. 43. 
 
40 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 the Franciscan, Nicol Bozon, who appears to have been 
 a native of the north of England ; and again in the 
 huge vokime/ compiled in Latin prose, by John of 
 Bromyard, an English Dominican and a contemporary 
 of the author of the Vision^ 
 
 " The mice," says Bozon, " held once their Par- 
 liament, and complained, the one to the other, of my 
 Lord Bad, the white cat, that had destroyed their 
 lineage, and busied himself with destroying them all. 
 
 "Says one : 'What shall we do with Sir Bad, that 
 comes upon us privily, when we are enjoying ourselves, 
 and causes us to run to corners for fear of his 
 coming ? ' 
 
 " Says another : ' We shall hang a campernole (little 
 bell) round his neck ; and we shall hear it ; thus shall 
 we, at the same time, honour him with this ornament, 
 and receive information of his coming,' 
 
 " Says each one to the other : ' Well said, indeed ! 
 thus shall we do ! Let us now determine who shall 
 perform what has been assented to.' 
 
 "Each and all declined. All said the counsel was a 
 sound one, but none of them would have a hand in it. 
 Thus went Bad much as before, destroying great and 
 small. 
 
 " So it happens that manv undertake, when assem- 
 bled together, to amend the excesses of their rulers, but 
 as soon as the ruler puts in an appearance : Clym I 
 clam ! cat lep over dam I " - 
 
 ^ I caused a copy of the book, preserved in the Paris National 
 Library, to be weighed. Its weight was t\\ lb. " Summa Pra;- 
 ■dicantium," Nurenberg, 1485, fol. 
 
 ^ " Les soricez tyndrent jadis leur parliament e se plcindrint 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 41 
 
 The subject was equally popular in France, where it 
 was treated by the celebrated friend and admirer of 
 Chaucer, Eustache des Champs, a contemporary of 
 our poet : 
 
 Je treuve qu'entre les souris 
 
 Ot un mcrveilleux parlement, &c.^ 
 
 Our author in appropriating this fable, since immorta- 
 lised by La Fontaine, takes care to inform us that it is 
 not placed there simply for our amusement ; it has an 
 
 chescon a autre de mon sire Badde, le blankc chat, qe ont destruit 
 lur lynage e se afforcca de eux destruire. 
 
 " Oe froms-nous, fit un, de sire Badde, qe vynt sur nous prive- 
 ment quant nous sumez a nostre solaz e nous fet les angles quere 
 pur poour de sa venue ? 
 
 "Fet un : Nous mettrons un campernole entour son col, q'il 
 nus puisse par ceo garnir, e nus par taunt li honeroums e par ceo 
 seroms de sa venue garniz. 
 
 "Com ceo est bien dit ! fet checun a autre. Hors tenons-nus 
 a tant ; mes purveyons dunks mcintenant qi fra ceste chose qe est 
 purvewe. 
 
 " Chescun de eux s'est escondu. Touz diseicnt qe le conscil 
 est seyn, mes nul ne voleit mettre la meyn. E Badde s'en ala com 
 avant, e destruit petit e graunt. 
 
 " Auxint plusurs en compaignic promettent de amender les out- 
 ragez des sovereynz, mes quant veient lur presence : Clym! clam! 
 cat lep over ciam!^'' — "Les Contes moralises de Nicole Bozon," 
 edited by L. Toulmin Smith and Paul Meyer, Paris, " Socicte 
 des Anciens Textes," 1889, 8vo, p. 144. The fable is aimed : 
 Contra pusillanimes prelatos et subditos. See also Th. Wright, 
 "Latin Stories," 1842, Percy Society, " De Concilio Murium": 
 " Mures inierunt consilium qualiter a cato se prxmuniri possent, et 
 ait quccdam sapientior cjeteris," &c., p. 80. 
 
 ^ Delboulle, "Les Fables de La Fontaine, additions a I'histoire 
 des fables," Paris, 1891, 8vo, p. 23. 
 
42 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 important meaning, one dangerous perhaps to un- 
 fold : 
 
 What this metcles (dream) bemeneth • ye men that be merye, 
 Devine ve, for I nc dar " bi dere God in hevene.^ 
 
 The allusions are fortunately transparent ones. 
 " With that," says the poet, abruptly as usual. 
 
 With that ran there a route • of ratones at ones, 
 
 And smale mvs myd hem • mo then a thousande, 
 
 And comen to a conseille • for here comune profit ; 
 
 For a cat of a courtc • cam whan hym lyked, 
 
 And overlepe hem lyghtlich • and lauhte hem at his willc, 
 
 And plevde with hem perilouslych • and possed them aboute. 
 
 What to do? The poor rats no longer dare stir 
 from their holes : 
 
 " Myghte we with any witte " his wille withstonde, 
 We myghte be lordes aloft • and ly\en at oure ese." 
 A raton of rcnon • most rcnable ot tonge, 
 
 evidently, like in La Fontaine, " leur doyen, personne 
 tres prudente," avails himself, as our visionary always 
 does, of actual circumstances, and, alluding to the 
 fashions of the day, exclaims : 
 
 "I have yscin segges" (beings), quod he- "in the cite of 
 
 London 
 Bercn bighes (collars) ful brightc • abouten here nekkes, 
 And some colers of crafty werk ; uncoupled (unfastened) they 
 
 wcndcn 
 Bothe in wareine and in waste * where hem leve lykcth ; 
 And otherwhile thei aren ells-where • as I here telle. 
 
 ^ B. Prol. 208. See complete text in Appendix, II. 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 
 
 43 
 
 Were there a belle on here beigh • bi Ihesu as me thynkcth, 
 
 Men myghte wite where thei went* and awei renne ! 
 
 And right so," quod that ratoun " " reson me sheweth. 
 
 To bugge a belle of brasse • or of brighte sylver, 
 
 And knitten on a colere " for owre comune profit, 
 
 And hangen it up-on the cattes hals (neck) • thanne here we mowen 
 
 Where he ritt or rest * or renneth to playe." ' 
 
 All applaud ; the collar and the bell are bought ; but 
 not a rat is found who, " for alle the rewme of Fraunce," 
 
 " RATONS OF RENON." 
 {From the viisericord of a stall at Great Malvern.) 
 
 or " all Engelonde to wynne," will consent to pass the 
 collar over the cat's neck. And thus was " here laboure 
 lost, and alle here longe studye." 
 
 But, just as there are good men, so good mice, and 
 one of them, a sagacious mouse, advances with a grave 
 
 ' Cf "Richard the Redeless," Skeat's Oxford edition, p. 6io, 
 lines 38, 44 : 
 
 They bare hem the bolder • ffor her gay broches . . , 
 Thane was it fFoly • in fFeith, as me thynketh, 
 To sette silver in signes • that of nought served. 
 
 4 
 
44 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 air : and, contrary to the example of the ancient fabu- 
 lists, the apologue continues, solely to fit in with the 
 politics of the day. Folly ! cries the mouse ; folly to 
 revolt : 
 
 Though we culled the catte " yut sholde ther come another ; 
 
 let us rather keep the one we have, and not infuriate 
 him by exhibiting the bell ; think of what would 
 happen were he to disappear : 
 
 For T herde my sire seyn * is sevene yere ypassed, 
 There the catte is a kitoun * the courte is ful elyng : 
 That vvitnisseth holiwrite * who-so will it rede. 
 Ve terre ubi puer rex est. 
 
 Let us then endeavour to live as peaceably as may be 
 with our present master. And, besides, are we faultless, 
 and would things go on so much better, supposing we 
 had no master at all ^ 
 
 For many mannus malt" we mys wolde destruye, 
 And also ye route of ratones • rende mennes clothes, 
 Nere (ne were) that cat of that courte " than can yow overlepe ; 
 For had ye rattes yowre wille " ye couthe nought reule youre- 
 selve. . . . 
 
 " What this meteles (dream) bemeneth . . . devine 
 ye ! " Let us then divine. 
 
 \jrhis allegory evidently corresponds to some turning 
 point in English history : and ten or twelve years after 
 the first text of the Visions was written, a crisis occurred 
 in' England which exactly corresponds to the fable of 
 the counsel held by the rats, namely, the crisis of 
 
 1376-7- 
 
 Edward III,, grown old and incapable, entirely ruled 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 45 
 
 by his mistress, Alice Ferrers, plundered or allowed his 
 favourites to plunder, the kingdom. The indignation 
 caused by these ill practices manifested itself in that 
 Parliament called *' the Good," which sat, from the 28th 
 of April, to the 6th of July, 1376. The assembly 
 brought a long bill of complaints against royalty, 
 drove away Alice Ferrers, and denounced the misdeeds 
 of prevaricating ministers. The Commons declared, 
 through their speaker, Feter de la Mare, " that it 
 seemed to them an undoubted fact, that, if their liege 
 lord had always had, around him, loyal counselors and 
 good officers, so would our same lord the king have 
 been very rich in treasure, and therefore would not 
 have had such great need of burdening his Commons, 
 either with subsidy, talliage, or otherwise, considering 
 the vast sums of gold that the ransoms of the kings of 
 France and Scotland have brought into the kingdom. 
 . . . And furthermore, that the kingdom of England 
 is grievously impoverished, for the mere private profit 
 and advantage of certain private persons round the 
 king, and of their friends." ^ 
 
 At this conjuncture, the assembly devised means to 
 
 ' "Lour semblait pur chose veritable, qe si lour dit seignour lige 
 ■eust euz toutdys entour lui des loialx conseillers et bons officers, 
 mcisme notre seigneur le Roy eust este bien rychez de tresor, ct 
 partant n'eust mye grantement bosoignc de charger sa Commune 
 par voie de subside ou de talliage, n'autrement, aiant consideration 
 as grandes sommes d'or q'ont este apportez deinz le Roialme des 
 ranceons des roys de France et d'Escoce. . . . Et pluis distrent q'i 
 lour semblait auxint qe pur singuler profit ct avantage d'aucuns 
 privez entour le Roi et d'autres de lour covyne, si est le Roi 
 et le roialme d'Engleterre grandement empovriz." " Rotuli Parlia- 
 mentorum," vol. ii. p. 323. 
 
46 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 " bell the cat." The collar and bell were to consist in a 
 council of a dozen lords, who were to exercise a general 
 and minute watch over the business of the State, and of 
 whom half the number had to be always near the king, 
 " in such a manner that no important affairs should 
 pass or be delivered without the assent and advice " of 
 the entire council. ^ But scarcely was this institution 
 established, when Parliament was dissolved. The court, 
 through its mouthpiece, John of Gaunt, declared 
 the acts of the late Parliament null ; - the councilors 
 were dismissed; 3 Alice returned, and a new Parliament, 
 the result of fraudulent elections,4 assembled on January 
 27, 1377, and finished demolishing the work of the 
 Good. The speaker of the House of Commons, Peter 
 de la Mare, that " raton of renon, most renable of 
 tonge," spoken of by our visionary, was put in prison. 5 
 
 ' " Par manicre tiellc que nullc groos bosoigne y passe ou soit 
 delivers sanz I'assent et advis " of the council. " Rotuli Parlia- 
 mentoium," vol. ii. p. 322. 
 
 - "Nee in rei veritate Parliamentum fuisse." " Chronicon 
 Anglias," ed. Maunde Thompson, London ("Rolls"), 1874, ^"^'°'- 
 p. 103. 
 
 3 From which arose endless maledictions : " Unde infinitas- 
 maledictiones super caput suum communis plebs congessit in 
 mentis amaritudine magna nimis." Ibid. 
 
 4 A dozen only among the members of the former House 
 succeeded in thwarting the ill-will of John of Gaunt and the court,, 
 and were re-elected. Ibid., p. 112. 
 
 5 He had made before the assembled Parliament the above- 
 mentioned speech. The importance of the part he played on this 
 occasion is confirmed by the author of the " Chronicon Anglije," who 
 was in a position to be well informed, as the abbot of his monastery 
 (St. Albans), Thomas de la Mare, sat in Parliament. The speech, 
 as reported by the chronicler, is nearly the same as in the Rolls ot 
 Parliament : " Que omnia ferret squanimiter [plebs communis] si 
 

 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 47 
 
 The sagacious mouse (our poet himself) had therefore 
 good reason to recommend prudence, and to dissuade 
 Parliament from too strict a Hmitation of the royal 
 power, for he feared the anarchy that would follow the 
 disappearance of the court cat. Take heed, said he ; 
 if the old cat is destroyed, we shall have for our king a 
 kitten. This means that, at the time when the fable was 
 written, Edward III. still lived, that his son, the Black 
 Prince, who could not have been termed a kitten, was 
 dead, and that Richard, aged ten, was heir to the throne. 
 This important addition to the poem was therefore 
 composed between June 8th, 1376, when the Black 
 Prince died, and June 21st, 1377 (death of King 
 Edward III.). The saying on the woes of kingdoms 
 governed by a child, is quoted by the mouse from his 
 father, who, "seven years" previously, had expressed his 
 opinion on the subject. The remark was, at that time, a 
 pertinent one : for in 1368-9, that is to say, seven or eight 
 years before, the Black Prince's disease had suddenly 
 increased in a terrible manner, and it had become evi- 
 dent he would never reach old age. Wise men could 
 therefore say with anguish : "Vas terra; ubi puer rex est !" 
 The unceremonious way in which the mouse mentions 
 the possibility of their putting the king to death may 
 seem a little startling, but we must remember that the 
 putting of kings to death was not then so very rare ; 
 half the English kings in the XlVth century died a 
 
 dominus noster rex sive regnum istud exinde aliquid commodi vel 
 emolumenti sumpsisse videretur. . . . Rationem compoti ab his qui 
 [pecuniam] receperunt cfflagitat plebs communis ; non enim est 
 credibile regem carere infinita thesauri quantitate, si fideles fuerint 
 qui ministrant ei." Ibid., p. 73. 
 
48 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 violent death ; the topic was not avoided in conversation ; 
 and Froissart could very well put in the mouth of the 
 London citizens a sort of monologue that terminates 
 thus : " There is no room amongst us for a redeless, 
 sleepy king ; we shall kill half a hundred of such 
 (un demi cent), one after the other, till we get one 
 according to our mind or liking." ^ 
 
 All the other new allusions contained in the B text 
 fit this same date of 1376-7, for they all refer 
 to either anterior or contemporaneous events, but not 
 to subsequent ones. The allusion to the drought of an 
 April without rain that occurred in the year : 
 
 A thousands and thre hondreth • tvveis thretty and ten, 
 
 . . . whan Chichcstre was maire,^ 
 
 refers to the local famine of 1370. Endless wars 
 between the Pope and his enemies, and between two 
 Christian kings, are also alluded to : 
 
 Al the witt of this worlde • and wighte menncs strengthe 
 Can nought confourmen a pees* bytwene the pope and his 
 
 enemys, 
 Ne bitvvcne two Cristcne Icynges • can no wighte pees make, 
 Profitable to ayther peple.3 
 
 These papal wars are mentioned by the Commons, in a 
 petition drawn up by the Good Parliament of 1376 : 
 *'Item, so soon as the Pope wants money to carry on his 
 wars in Lombardy or elsewhere ... he wishes to have 
 
 ' " Nous n'avons que faire d'un roi endormit, ne pesant, qui trop 
 demande ses aises et ses deduis. Nous en occirons avant un demi 
 cent tout I'un apries I'autre, que nous n'eussions un roi a nostre 
 seance et volontc." " Chroniques," Luce's edition, vol. i. p. 249. 
 
 2 B. xiii. 269. 3 B. xiii. 173. 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 49 
 
 subsidy from the clergy of England." i The papal wars, 
 here alluded to, were actual ones, and the remonstrance 
 of the Commons was no vain complaint. His Holiness 
 had, at that time, in his service, the famous English- 
 man, John Hawkwood, who worked wonders at the head 
 of his "Holy Company." In 1375, he levied contri- 
 butions on Florence, Pisa, Sienna, Lucca, and Arezzo. 
 In the year 1376, he retook Bologna which had revolted 
 against the Pope, and laid Romagna waste. In February, 
 1377, he plunders Cesana and massacres the population. 
 Then, considering he had worked long enough for the 
 same cause, he passes into the Milanese camp, and now 
 fights against the Pope, under the banner of Barnabo 
 Visconti.- 
 
 The wars " bitwene two Cristene kynges " are those 
 which continued or smouldered, between France and 
 England. Even in time of peace, it was well known 
 they were not at an end. All the wit of the world, 
 said the poet, and the power of strong men proved in- 
 efficient to establish peace. And, in a similar fashion, the 
 Bishop of St. David's, chancellor of the kingdom, had, 
 in his opening speech, delivered at the first sitting of 
 the Parliament which assembled on January 27, 1377, 
 insisted, before all things, on the necessity of granting 
 ample subsidies, in view of the war with France : they 
 
 ' "Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 339. 
 
 2 This identification seems to me certain, and I do not believe 
 that the allusion refers, as Mr. Skeat suggests (Oxford edition, vol. 
 ii. p. 198), to the papal schism of 1378. His interpretation of the 
 passage would alter the date of B, admitted by Mr Skeat himself. 
 On this point, the poet thinks and speaks exactly as the Commons 
 of the Good Parliament did ; and the wars of Hawkwood were 
 more than enough to give rise to animadversions from both. 
 
so PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 were, to be sure, in a state of peace, but this peace 
 resembled war, and open war could not fail of soon 
 breaking out. " His aforesaid adversary [of France]," 
 observes the Bishop, " during these truces, and under 
 their cover, makes great preparations for war, both by 
 land and sea." ' Therefore, let Parliament grant large 
 sums of money. 
 
 To the same date, again, can be referred a certain 
 change of tone in the good resolutions attributed to 
 the king by the poet. In the A text, the king was 
 represented as taking them with a good heart, meaning 
 to keep them for a long time, for ever ; he had, to all 
 appearances, many years of life before him ; he would 
 have Reason to sit by him as long as he lived. In the 
 B text, this passage is modified ; the tone is different ; 
 the same resolutions are taken, but the time " du long 
 espoir et des vastes pensees " is gone ; Edward still 
 wishes to have Reason by him for the remainder of his 
 days ; but that remainder will be a short one ; he will 
 accomplish reforms; at least he will, if he reigns any time : 
 
 Ac Resoun shal rckene with vou • vif I regnc any while. - 
 
 ^ "Sondit advcrsaire, pendantes celles trieves et souz umbrc 
 d'ycelles s'apparaillc trcs fortement a la guerre, sihien par terre 
 comme par mecr." "Rot. Pari.," vol. ii. p. 361. On their side, 
 the Commons of the Good Parliament had enumerated the 
 grievances of England " q'est maintenant grevez en diverse manerc 
 par pluseurs adversitces, si bien par les guerres de France, d'Espagne, 
 d'lrlande, de Guyenne et Bretaigne et ailleurs, come autrement." 
 Ibid., p. 322. 
 
 ^ B. iv. 177. In A, he had said : 
 
 Bote rediliche, Reson • thou rydest not heonnes, 
 For as longe as I live ' lette the I nuUe. 
 
 A. iv. 153. The meaning, of a probably short space of time, that 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 5 r 
 
 This change of tone suits well the state of things we 
 ■find in the year 1377, when the chronicles represent 
 Edward as being no longer but the shadow of himself, 
 *' tanquam simulacrum . . . et pro multiplicibus asgri- 
 tudinis incommodis loqui non valentem." ^ 
 
 Some other allusions, of less importance, refer also 
 to the same period. A new mention is made of the 
 plague, which appears to have lately broken out again, 
 Haukyn, " the actyf man," declares he has never 
 received anything from the Pope, save a charter bestow- 
 ing indulgences upon him, and adorned with a leaden 
 seal showing " two pollis," that is, the heads of SS. 
 Peter and Paul. He would have preferred something 
 more practical, such as " a salve " for the pesti- 
 lence ; the Pope's blessing and his bulls would be 
 very welcome, could they cure the **' bocches " caused 
 by the epidemic : 
 
 And I hadde nevcre of him • have God my treuthe, 
 Noither provendre ne parsonage " yut of the popis gifte, 
 Save a pardoun with a peys of led • and two pollis amydde ! 
 Hadde ich a clcrke that couthe write • I wolde caste hym a bille. 
 That he sent me under his seel • a salve for the pestilence, 
 And that his blessyng and his bulles * bocches mighte destroye.^ 
 
 I attribute to the words " any while " has been contested (Skeat, 
 London edition, vol. iv. p. 882), but the poet uses the same words, 
 with obviously the same meaning, at another place where the ques- 
 tion is undoubtedly of an inevitable and near at hand catastrophe : 
 
 Ther nys cite under sonne • ne so riche reome 
 
 Ther hue ys loved and lete by ■ that last shal eny while. 
 
 C. iv. 204. 
 
 ' " Chronicon Anglic," p. 132, sub anno 1377 ("Rolls"). 
 
 ^ B. xiii. 24.4. The heads of SS. Peter and Paul were shown 
 in relief on the Pope's leaden seal (bull). 
 
5 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 Nothing, in all this, is imaginary ; the plague had 
 reappeared in 1375 during the heat of an exceptional 
 summer ; an " infinity of people " had died, and the 
 Pope, whose charters could, doubtless, not cure the sick, 
 had at least conceded, " per duas bulks," a plenary 
 indulgence to those who died, duly confessed, during 
 the epidemic. I 
 
 One passage in our text is considered by Mr. Skeat 
 to relate to the jubilee of Edward III., celebrated on 
 the occasion of the fiftieth year of his reign. There 
 occurs a description of a sort of golden age, foreseen 
 by Conscience, for the time when Reason shall reign 
 supreme. No more wars, says the poet ; no more 
 quarrels ; peace and love shall reign on earth ; the 
 happiness of all will be such, that the Jews will believe 
 the Messiah has at length appeared.- 
 
 ' "A.D. 1375. . . . Hoc anno crant calores nimii : pcstilentia 
 quoque pcrgrandis, tarn in Anglia quam in aliis diversis mundi 
 partibus, tunc tcmporis inolevit, qiux" infinites utriusque sexus subita 
 morte consumpsit. . . . Durante ista epidemia dominus papa, ad 
 instantiam cardinalis Anglias, concessit omnibus decedentibus in 
 Anglia, qui de peccatis suis contriti fuerunt et confessi, plenam 
 remissionem, per duas bullas, sex mensibus duraturam." Con- 
 tinuator of Adam de Murimuth, "Chronica," London, 1846, 8vo, 
 p. 217. 
 
 2 I, Conscience, knowe this • for kynde witt me it taughte, 
 That resoun shal regne " and rewmes governe . . . 
 
 . . . such love shal arise. 
 And such a pees amonge the peple • and a perfit trewthe, 
 That lewes shal vvene in here witte ' and waxen wonder 
 
 glade. 
 That Moises or Messie • be come in-to this erthe, 
 And have wonder in here hertis • that men beth so trewe . . . 
 Shal neither kynge ne knyghte • constable ne meire 
 Over-lede the comune • . . . {Continued on p. 53.) 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 53 
 
 The date, it is true, corresponds to the period we 
 are considering ; but the identification of the fact and 
 the allusion to it, must, I believe, be discarded. Not 
 only does the description offer nothing that precisely 
 tallies with the jubilee of Edward III., but, above all, 
 were this theory admitted, it would make out our 
 author to be, in contradiction with all the rest of his 
 work, a politician full of the most naive illusions ; 
 the judgment to be passed on him and his character 
 would have to be completely altered. 
 
 In reality, he was too close an observer, and too well 
 acquainted with his contemporaries and with m.ankind, 
 to predict a golden age as being near at hand. That 
 this anniversary was not one of wide significance, was 
 only too apparent, even at the moment when the poet 
 wrote. Chroniclers, like Walsingham and the Con- 
 tinuator of Adam of Murimuth, attach so little import- 
 ance to the jubilee, that they do not even mention it.^ 
 The very work of the Parliament in the midst of which 
 the jubilee was announced, the Parliament of 1377, that 
 
 Kynges courte and comune courte • consistorie and chapitele, 
 Al shal be but one courte " and one baroun be justice . . . 
 Batailles shal non be ■ ne no man bere wepne. 
 
 (B. iii. 282, 298, 313, 318.) 
 ^ They have nothing of the illusions which we should have to 
 recognise in Langland, were the other theory the true one. The 
 last years of Edward III. are thus summed up by Walsingham : 
 "In hoc loco summe notandum est, quod sicut in ejus primordiis 
 cuncta grata et prospera successive ipsum illustrem reddiderunt, et 
 inclytum, ita, eo ad senilem aetatem vergente et ad occasum decli- 
 nante, peccatis exigentibus, paulatim ilia felicia decresccbant, et 
 infortunia multa infausta et incommoda succrescebant, quae 
 minuere, proh dolor! famam ejus." " Historia Anglicana," vol. i. 
 p. 328 ("Rolls"). 
 
54 FIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 annulled the reforms of the Good Parliament, would 
 have sufficed to undeceive the most sanguine. Nothing 
 less resembles our poet's idyl, than the transactions 
 v^hich then took place. The chancellor, in the above- 
 mentioned speech, demands, in the name of the king 
 and on the occasion of the jubilee, as much money as 
 possible. He demonstrates, with a superabundance of 
 biblical quotations, that Edward III. is the beloved of 
 God, and adduces two proofs of this : i. There is a 
 slight improvement in his health. 2. " And, besides, 
 now is it that the fiftieth year of his reign has been 
 accomplished ; from which we may gather that God 
 loves him, and that he is blessed by God." There 
 could not be, therefore, a better season for presents ; 
 let the Commons be generous.^ The Commons agree 
 to the most unpopular grant of a poll-tax, a tax 
 *•' hactenus inaudita," says Walsingham,- and demand, 
 in exchange, an amnesty : a bargaining that in nowise 
 recalls the Golden Age. 3 
 
 ^ " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 361. The Commons 
 themselves had set the example for such a bargaining, the year 
 before. They had justified their petition for reforms by " I'an 
 jubil, c'cst assavoir I'an de grace et de joie," 1376. Ibid., p. 338. 
 
 2 Walsingham says that the Parliament of 1377 met " cogente 
 Duce qui vices gerebat regis," and granted those taxes "hactenus 
 inaudita." He adds : " In hoc autem Parliamento abrogata sunt 
 statuta Parliament! superioris quod Bonum merito vocabatur." 
 
 3 In defence of the contrary theory, Mr. Skeat has to suppose 
 that the additions concerning the Golden Age, inserted in this 
 passage (the beginning of which, however, is to be found also in the 
 A text composed in 1362: " resun schal regne . . . Schal no 
 more Meede be mayster," &c., iii. 272) were written only after 
 the accession of Richard. But this would, I think, only replace 
 ■one improbability by another. Is it conceivable that the jubilee 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 55 
 
 The fable of the council held by the rats has, at all 
 events, sufficiently shown how completely free from 
 illusions was our poet. In fact, and with great reason, 
 he places his Golden Age in some dim and unde- 
 terminate epoch ; his prophecy is nothing more than 
 a dream within a dream. 
 
 III. 
 
 I In the C text, the new allusions are few, though the 
 additions are numerous. The added passages are nearly 
 all moralisations, reflections, and discourses ; introspec- 
 tions of the author concerning his dreams and his past 
 life. He tells us more about himself than formerly, and 
 scruples less to confess his faults : the one is a proof that 
 he is farther off from the time when they were com- 
 mitted ; the other is a sign that old age is approaching. 
 
 Most of the former allusions are, however, maintained,, 
 and the judgments on the society of the time remain the 
 same ; the society the author has in his mind is that of 
 his mature age, that of the last years of Edward III. 
 The period 1 376-1377 is the period on which turns 
 this work, constantly gone over by its author, who 
 incessantly altered it, for about thirty years. 
 
 The general tone of the principal additions inclines 
 us to believe that a considerable number of years 
 separates the second from the third version ; but to 
 what time exactly should we refer this last } ^ We can 
 be guided by the following indications. 
 
 of Edward would have caused our poet to prophesy a golden age 
 for the time of Edward's successor ? See Skeat, London edition, 
 vol. iv. p. 882. Cf. Revue Critique, Oct. 25 and Nov. i, 1879. 
 
56 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 At one place, the visionary deals with the recruiting 
 of the clergy, and declares that : 
 
 . . . Shold no clerk be crouned ' bote yf he ycome were 
 Of franklens and free men ' and of folke yweddede.' 
 
 This remark may have been suggested by the abuse 
 which the Commons complained of in 1391 : sons of 
 peasants abandon the glebe, go to school, and are lost 
 for their masters. The Commons, not very liberal, 
 protest against this " promotion by clerkship," avance- 
 ment par clergie? 
 
 In the discourse where the knight Conscience puts 
 forth his accusations against the beautiful Lady Meed, 
 a few lines are added in the C text, exceedingly audacious 
 ones, where it is said : 
 
 Ther nys cite under sonnc * nc so riche reome 
 
 Thcr hue ys loued and lete by (considered) • that last shal cny 
 
 while, 
 Withe-oute wcrre other wo • other wicked lawes, 
 And customes of covetyse • the comune to distruye. 
 Unsyttyngc (unbecoming) Suffraunce * hure suster, and hure- 
 
 selve 
 Have maked al-most • bote Marie the hclpe, 
 That no lond loveth the • and yut leest thyn owene,3 
 
 This addition is surely aimed at Richard II., and 
 appears to correspond to the moment when, having 
 become an absolute monarch, he lost all his popularity, 
 and was hastening to his fall. The Parliament, a 
 *' prive parlement," says Langland in his forcible way,4- 
 
 ' C. vi. 63. 
 
 2 " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. iii. p. 294. 
 
 3 C. iv. 204. 
 
 4 "Richard Redeless," iv. 25. 
 
THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 57 
 
 assembled at Shrewsbury on January 28, 1398, and, 
 virtually resigning all power into the hands of the 
 king, voted the principal taxes, not for a year, but for 
 the prince's lifetime. Consequently, the sovereign will 
 have henceforth no need for a parliament ; these were 
 assuredly, in the eyes of our visionary, " wicked lawes," 
 and the reigning king was very different from the one 
 sympathetically described in the B text : 
 
 Knyghthod hym ladde, 
 Might of the comunes ' made hym to regne/ 
 
 The time of " wicked lawes " had come ; that of 
 civil troubles was nigh ; - the nation separates from 
 Richard ; discontent is expressed with increasing auda- 
 city. The king is dictatorial, the nation resolute ; a 
 crisis is inevitable, and soon comes. 
 
 This allusion is the most recent one to be found in 
 text C, and, on this account, we may conclude that the 
 final revision of the poem took place in 1398 or shortly 
 after.3 
 
 ^ B. Prol. 112. 
 
 2 Those fears began to be entertained in the summer of 1397 : 
 *' For fear of a popular rising, an army was levied in Cheshire and 
 other royalist counties." Stubbs, "Constitutional History," Ox- 
 ford, 1880, vol. ii. p. 538. 
 
 3 See, contra^ Mr. Skeat's Oxford edition (vol. ii. pp. xxxi. and 
 XXXV.), where a different date, viz, 1392-3, is proposed. Accord- 
 ing to Mr. Skeat, Langland alludes here to the quarrel of Richard 
 with the Londoners in 1392, which would give the date 1393 or 
 thereabout for the C text. But this local quarrel does not fit so 
 well the lines of the poet as the more important events of the 
 years 1397-8. It was, not long after, solemnly composed ; one of 
 the most splendid pageants on record took place on the occasion, 
 
58 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 The probable dates of the three versions are there- 
 fore A. 1362-3, B. 1376-7, C. 1398-9. 
 
 August 29, 1393, a full description of which has been preserved 
 ("De Concordia inter regem et civitatcm," by Richard of Maid- 
 stone. Wright, " Political Poems," vol. i. p. 282, "Rolls"), Mr. 
 Skeat's identification is the more difficult to accept, as, from the 
 day when he took the reins of government in his hands, May 3, 
 1389, till 1397, Richard was generally popular throughout the 
 country : " He lived then as a constitutional king and did his 
 best" (Stubbs, "Constitutional History," Oxford, 1880, vol. ii. p. 
 530); the kingdom enjoyed peace; parliamentary institutions 
 worked regularly. The situation darkened when Richard re- 
 married, 1396, but it became threatening only the year after. 
 We are the more at liberty to accept the date 1398-9, as Mr. Skeat 
 himself adds to his demonstration in favour of 1393 : "I should 
 not object to the opinion that the true date is later still." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE author's name, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 
 
 I. 
 
 NO contemporary has spoken of the author of the 
 Visions, and no one seems to have known him ; 
 but, while studying carefully his poem, we can 
 discern the traits of his character, and the outline of his 
 biography, for he has described his person and way 
 of life, and said what he thought of both, in his work. 
 He spent his existence in remodelling his poem, and 
 so identified himself with it, that he and it are one. He 
 has drawn there his moral and even his physical portrait. 
 His Christian name was William, as is attested by 
 the title of several manuscripts : " Incipit visio Wil- 
 lelmi " ; nforeover, the personages of his Visions, when 
 they speak to him, always address him as William : 
 
 A loveliche lady of lere (face) • in lynnen y-clothid, 
 
 Cam doun fro that castel ' and calde me by name, 
 
 And seide, " Willc, slepest thow • syxt thou this puplc ? " ' 
 
 His surname appears to have been Langland (or Long- 
 
 ' C. ii. 3 ; C. xi. 71, &c. 
 
 5 59 
 
6o PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 lond, which is a different form of the same). Tradition 
 is in favour of this name, and tradition is represented, 
 firstly, in the XVth century, by annotations inscribed 
 in some manuscripts by ancient possessors of them ; ' 
 secondly, in the XVIth century, by John Bale. In his 
 "Catalogue of illustrious writers," Bale affirms- that 
 " Langelande " composed the " Visionem Petri Ara- 
 toris," commencing : " In aestivo tempore, cum sol 
 caleret," which is indeed the beginning of our poem : 
 
 In a somcr sesun • whon softc was the sonne ; 
 
 thirdly, there happens to be in a line of the Visions 
 
 • Sec Skeat's Oxford edition, vol. ii. p. xxviii. 
 
 - Bale's notice (in which several erroneous statements are to be 
 found, e.g.^ our poet's Christian name, Robert, his Wyclifism, &c.) 
 is as follows : " Robertus Langelande, saccrdos, ut apparet, natus 
 in comitatu Salopis, in villa uulgo dicta Mortymers Clibcry, in 
 terra lutea, octauo a Maluernis montibus milliarius fuit. Num 
 tamen eo in loco incondite et agresti, in bonis Uteris ad maturam 
 astatem usque informatus fuerit, certo adfirmare non possum, ut 
 neque an Oxonii aut Cantabrigi:e illis insudaucrit : quum apud 
 eorum locorum magistros studia prscipue vigerent. lllud uerum- 
 tamen liquido constat eum fuisse ex primis loannis Vuicleui 
 discipulis unum atquc in spiritus feruore, contra apertas Papista- 
 rum blasphemias aduersus Deum et eius Christum sub amoenis 
 coloribus et typis edidisse in sermone anglico pium opus, ac 
 bonorum uirorum lectione dignum, quod uocabat Visionem Petri 
 Aratoris. — Lib. i. In asstiuo tempore, cum sol caleret. 
 
 "Nihil aliud ab ipso editum noui. In hoc opere erudito, pra;ter 
 similitudines uarias et iucundas, prophetice plura pra;dixit, qu^ 
 nostris diebus impleri uidimus. Compleuit suum opus anno 
 Domini 1369, dum Joannes Cicestrius Londini prstor esset." — 
 " Sciptorum illustriura maioris Brytannie. . . Catalogus," Basel, 
 1557? fol., p. 474- 
 
THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 6i 
 
 a succession of words which, put together, give, in a 
 reversed order, the name of William Langland : 
 
 I have lyvcd in lo7ide, quod I' my name is longe Willed 
 
 It seems likely that this is more than a mere acci- 
 dent ; the poets of that time liked to play upon names, 
 and often gave theirs to be divined in easy enigmas. 
 Chaucer calls Olivier de Mauny, "The Wikked Nest."- 
 Christine de Pisan, who does not appear to have ex- 
 pected much of the acuteness of her readers, facilitates 
 things for them, and writes : 
 
 S'aucun veut le nom savoir, 
 Je lui en diray tout le voir : 
 Qui un tout seul rry crieroit 
 Et la fin d'Aou// y mectroit, 
 Si il disoit avec une v^^, 
 II sauroit le nom bel et digne.3 
 
 " If any wants to know the name, I shall tell him 
 the truth of it. Let him cry one crv, and add to it 
 the end of Augu.f/, and then say one yne (hymn) : 
 then will he know the good fine name." 3 
 
 In a brilliant sketch published in the North British 
 RevieWy^ Dr. Pearson has tried to prove that the poet's 
 name was Langley, though tradition is opposed to this 
 hypothesis, and the name is not to be found in any 
 manuscript. He grounds his theory principally on a 
 
 ' B. XV. 148. 
 
 ^ "Menkes tale," " De Petro Hispannie Rege." We owe this 
 identification to Mr. Skeat. 
 
 3 Paulin Paris, "Manuscrits frangais de la Bibliotheque du Roi," 
 vol. V. p. 170. 
 
 4, April, 1870, p. 241. 
 
62 FIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 note in the handwriting of the XVth century, inscribed 
 in a manuscript of the Visions preserved at Dublin. 
 This note has given rise to many contestable theories^ 
 and is thus worded : 
 
 " Memorandum quod Stacy de Rokayle, pater 
 Willielmi de Langlond, qui Stacius fuit generosus, et 
 morabatur in Schiptone under Wicwode, tenens dominl 
 le Spenser in comitatu Oxon, qui prasdictus Willielmus 
 fecit librum qui vocatur Pervs Ploughman." ^ 
 
 According to this note, the author of Piers Plowman 
 was the son of a sort of franklin or freeholder, a de- 
 pendent of the family of Spenser, living at Shipton- 
 under-VVychwood, in the county of Oxford. Mr. 
 Pearson says that no family of the name of Langland 
 has left any trace in the vicinity, but Langleys arc there 
 known, and there is a hamlet of that name. If, as is 
 the case, Stacy's son did not take the name of his father, 
 he must have adopted that of his village and called 
 himself Langley, after the locality. 
 
 Everything in this theory is hypothesis, and tradition 
 contradicts it. Concerning the man himself, the very note 
 of the Dublin manuscript gives the name of Langland ; 
 concerning the village, no evidence connects the poet 
 with a village of Langley. One only authority, that 
 we might, it is true, wish weightier and more ancient,. 
 but which is better than nothing, mentions the place 
 where our visionary is supposed to have been born. 
 This is John Bale, who tells us he was born at Cleobury 
 Mortimer, in the county of Shrewsbury, not far from 
 Malvern in the county of Worcester, where the open- 
 ing scene of the Visions is laid. 
 
 ^ Ibid., p. 242, and Skeat, Oxford edition, vol. ii. p. xxviii. 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 63 
 
 *' Langley " remains, therefore, a pure hypothesis ; ^ 
 and, for a hypothesis to be resorted to instead of 
 tradition, it would at least have been necessary to 
 find tradition supplying data irreconcilable with facts 
 known for certain to be true ; but this is not the 
 case. Tradition supplies us with " Langland " as being 
 the poet's name, and " Cleobury Mortimer " as his 
 birthplace ; the fact of the poet receiving his name, 
 though it be that of a locality, without having been 
 born there, can be easily explained. Places of this 
 name exist in several counties of England (Somerset, 
 Devon, Dorset), and various ties — that of habitation, 
 &c. — may have bound him to one of them, and been 
 the cause of this surname. Cases of this kind were 
 frequent in the Middle Ages. The chronicler Matthew 
 of Paris, Matthasus Parisiensis, though English, was so 
 called merely because he had studied at Paris. If, there- 
 fore, " Langley " is a possibility, " Langland " is also 
 a possibility, and one that is corroborated by tradition. 
 
 The note of the Dublin manuscript has given rise to 
 other disputable suppositions. It makes out the poet's 
 father to be a kind of personage ; he is " generosus," 
 that is, of " good family," a sort of franklin like 
 Chaucer's, " generosus, gentylman," says an Anglo-Latin 
 glossary of the XVth century. 2 Our poet would 
 therefore have had a certain social rank. In reality, his 
 
 ^ Cf. the explanation proposed in the Athenaeum, March 19, 
 1887, where it is suggested that there existed probably a Stacy de 
 Rokayle who had a son called William Langley. The author of 
 the Dublin note mistook, as it seems, this William for ours. 
 
 2 Wright and Wiilker, "Anglo-Saxon and Old English Voca- 
 bularies," London, 1884, 8°, p. 630: " Nativus, bondeman ; 
 generosus, gentylman." 
 
64 FIERS FLO JVM AN. 
 
 origin is, I believe, far more humble, and we must on 
 this point hear what he has to say himself. 
 
 First, and this, to tell the truth, can be better felt 
 than shown, the tone of the poem contradicts, from 
 beginning to end, the theory that the writer was a man 
 of any social standing. Neither Gower, Chaucer, nor 
 Wyclif talks thus. All the remarks of the author, all 
 his judgments, all his reminiscences concerning himself, 
 that is, everything that gives tone and colouring to 
 the poem from the point of view that now occupies us, 
 agrees with the supposition that he was a child of low 
 degree, but of vivacious parts, who, thanks to patrons 
 pleased by his ready intelligence, was able to study, to 
 become a clerk, to break the bonds of servitude, and, in 
 some manner or other, reach freedom. We perceive him 
 to be, by merit, far superior to the modest rank he 
 occupies, and to which, however humble, he has only 
 attained by favour, if not even by illegitimate means» 
 
 * His language is such as the vexations and disappoint- 
 ments of an abortive career might dictate to one of those 
 peasants' sons, against whom the Commons petitioned, 
 who left their village, obtained access to the schools, and 
 
 I got afterwards an " avancement par clergie." ' 
 
 To confirm these impressions, we have some import- 
 ant declarations of his. In the poem, Holy-Church 
 meets Langland and reminds him of her benefactions : 
 
 Ich undcr-feng (received) the formcst • and frc man the made.^ 
 
 Entrance into the Church did in fact abolish servitude. 
 It is true, the law required a manumission by the 
 
 ' Year 1391. See above, p. 56. ^ q ;;_ -r^_ 
 
THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 65 
 
 master ; ' but fraud was frequently resorted to, and, by- 
 means of false witnesses, the serf received ecclesiastical 
 orders. A rule, not easy of application, prescribed 
 that, in such a case, the culprit should be degraded, and 
 brought back to a state of servitude, should the deceit 
 be proved.- Many sons of peasants thus discovered in 
 themselves a religious vocation, so as to obtain their 
 freedom, and, once assured of it, showed great slackness 
 in the performance of their ecclesiastical duties. The 
 case was again provided for : any individual liberated 
 under these conditions, " qui canonicas horas observare 
 et psallere noluerit, dicens se liberum esse," 3 should be 
 excommunicated until he submitted. These ancient 
 decrees, frequently violated during the Xlllth century, 
 were still oftener infringed in the course of the XlVth, 
 owing to the general disorder resulting from the great 
 plague.4 
 
 Whether the means employed were perfectly regular 
 or not, it was to Holy-Church that Langland owed his 
 liberty. It does not seem that she here speaks figu- 
 
 ' " Inhibitum est cnim ct in Decretalibus statutum, quod nullus 
 Episcopus spurios aut servos, donee a dominis suis fuerint manu- 
 missi, ad sacros ordines promovere pra^sumat." "Fleta," ii. cap. 51. 
 
 ^ " Si quis vero servus, dominum suum fugiens et latitans, vel 
 testibus adhibitis conductis et munere corruptis, aut quacumque 
 calliditate vel fraude ad gradus ecclesiasticos pervenerit, decretum 
 est ut deponetur et dominus ejus eum recipiat in servitutem." 
 "Fleta," ibid. 3 "Fleta," ii. cap. 51. 
 
 4 The authorities were the less inclined to severity as the ranks 
 of the clergy had been greatly thinned by the plague ; so much so 
 that the Pope had to grant special facilities for the recruiting of 
 ecclesiastics. See letter of Clement VI. to the Archbishop of York, 
 authorising supplementary ordinations, " Historical Papers . . . 
 from the Northern Registers," ed. Rainc ("Rolls"), p. 401. 
 
66 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 ratively, and alludes to baptism, a benefit common to 
 all Christians ; she reminds Langland of what she has 
 done for him personally : 
 
 " Holychurche ich am," quath hue " " thow oghtest me to knawe ; 
 Ich under-feng the formest • and fre man the made. 
 Thow broghtest me borwes • my byddyng to fulfille, 
 To leve on me and lovye me • al thy lyf tymc." ^ 
 
 Given that Langland had really received, as will be 
 seen, at least the minor orders, or in any case the 
 tonsure, no wonder that Holy - Church, while com- 
 memorating her favours, would rather allude to the 
 personal advantages conferred upon the poet and to 
 the pledges taken by him, in his own name, than to 
 the usual pledges, common to all Christians, taken, not 
 by them indeed, but by third persons, the godfathers 
 and godmothers acting pro forma^ at the moment of 
 the baptism. Let us observe, besides, that the words, 
 " Ich ... fre man the made," are to be found only in 
 the C text ; the older versions, A and B, have only the 
 less important statement : " I taught thee thy faith," 
 
 Ich the undurfong furst" and thi feith the taughte.- 
 
 And it is one of the characteristics of the C text that 
 the author becomes more precise in what he has to say 
 about himself, and readier to take us into his confi- 
 dence. This observation must incline us to see more 
 in the " fre man the made," than if it was found in 
 the three versions of the poem ; it has the appearance 
 of being one more fragment of the poet's confession. 
 
 If it is objected that Holy-Church is thus made to 
 use very practical language, concerning very material 
 ' C. ii. 72. 2 A. i. 74. 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 67 
 
 interests, I can only reply that Holy-Church and 
 *' Clergye " were very practical indeed in the Middle 
 Ages. The most pious authors, who represent them 
 as uttering their own apology, always put into their 
 mouths the enumeration of the material privileges 
 they confer. Thanks to the tonsure he has received 
 from Holy-Church, a clerk escapes hanging for his 
 misdeeds. He shows the traces of it, and proves that 
 he can read, and he is safe : " A book is brought in, 
 not an unknown one . . . What a useful reading, this 
 reading of the book of Psalms, a Book of Life, if any ! 
 , . . Our pupil reads a few lines and, avoiding the 
 rigours of the secular arm, is trusted to the keeping ot 
 the Bishop." ^ Thus speaks Clergye in the " Philo- 
 biblon" (year 1345). In the same way, we see, at 
 another place, in the Visions, that Clergye 
 
 . . . has take fro Tybourne • twenti strong theves 
 There lewed theves ben lolled up" loke how thei be saved! ^ 
 
 ^ "The Philobiblon of Richard de Bury," ed. Thomas; 
 London, 1888, 8°. " Legendus liber porrigitur non ignotus . . . 
 O lectio pretiosa psalterii quae meretur hoc ipso liber vits 
 deinceps appellari . . . Noster alumnus ad lectionem unicam 
 libri vitse pontiiicis commendatur custodice, et rigor in favorem 
 convertitur." Clerks, naturally enough, took great care not to 
 allow such a useful privilege to be infringed. When there 
 was any occasion, they complained to the king, saying: "Item 
 se plaignent voz ditz chapelleins que vos Justices, par lour 
 juggement dampnent et juggent clercs, chapelleins, moignes et 
 autres gentz de religion portantz tonsure et habit acordantz a lour 
 cstat . . . et les font pendre et treiner as coues des chivalx, en 
 reprove de Seinte Eglise et de la clergie." And justices carry 
 the wickedness so far as to allow monks to hang longer on the 
 gallows than lay people. " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. 
 p. 244, year 135 1-2. ^ B. xii. 190. 
 
68 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 There is, therefore, nothing astonishing that Holy- 
 Church should boast of being able to free the son of 
 a serf. 
 
 This interpretation is corroborated by another 
 passage of the poem. Weary in body, vacillating in 
 spirit, dreaming his dreams, disdaining manual labour, 
 " romynge in remembraunce," Langland meets Reason, 
 who reproaches him with his indolence : Why not 
 make thyself useful .^ And among the different ways 
 of so doing, Reason enumerates various labours in 
 town and country : mowing, reaping, sheaving, shaping 
 of shoes and clothes, tending of sheep, pigs, and geese : 
 
 " Thenne havcst thow londes to lyve by " ' quathc Reson, 
 
 "other lynage ryche 
 That fynden the thy fode r " ' 
 
 Langland shows, by his answer, that he has neither 
 lands nor rich relations ; and yet he does nothing, 
 he refuses " to cart and to worche," or to ply a trade. 
 And what motive does he allege for this refusal ? Had 
 he been the son of a "gentylman," of a "generosus," his 
 birth would have been sufficient excuse ; all the more 
 so that Reason himself suggests this answer : " Havest 
 thow . . . lynage riche '^. " It is even scarcely 
 credible that, in such a case, Langland would have 
 represented Reason putting the question at all. "Why 
 don't you cut shoes .^ " is not a likely question for 
 Reason to ask the son of a " gentylman." But no ; 
 being thus " arated," the poet gives a long moody 
 answer, a mixture of doleful disquisitions and pungent 
 sayings, in which he justifies his dreamy life and his 
 
 ^ C. vi. 26. 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 69 
 
 refusal to work with his hands, by the fact of his being 
 tonsured. It is the tonsure and nothing else that 
 dispenses him from the labours of a peasant, and frees 
 him from the necessity of having " to cart and to 
 worche." ^ 
 
 In the course of his rambling speech, full of fits and 
 starts, full of tears also, and sneers, where absolute 
 consistence is the last thing that may be expected, he 
 adds this, of which a great deal has been made : 
 
 Hit by-cometh for clerkus • Crist for to serven. 
 
 And knaves uncrouned • to cart and to worche. 
 
 For shold no clerk be crouned " bote yf he ycome were 
 
 Of franklens and free men • and of folke yweddede.- 
 
 From this it has been concluded that Langland 
 " ycome was of franklens." But, taken in conjunction 
 with the rest of the poem, this, I believe, can scarcely 
 mean anything but : Behold my tonsure, you have no 
 right to carry your inquiries further ; if I wear it, you 
 must needs take me for a free man, and I have not to 
 submit to manual labour. From whatever side you 
 consider the matter, my tonsure suffices ; I wear it> 
 therefore I need not work. 
 
 This interpretation can of course be contested, and it 
 has been. Perhaps, however, it will not be considered 
 unacceptable if the whole of the poem, its tone and 
 the light it throws on Langland's life are considered. 
 For the reader ought to remember, that, as will be 
 
 ^ C. beginning of passus vi. He alleges some other motives, 
 but merely physical ones : he is " to waik to worche " and " to long 
 . . . lowe for to stoupe," but the only reason oi a social order he 
 puts forth is his clerkship. '^ C. vi. 61. 
 
70 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 shown further on, the poet's character is not a straight, 
 clear, logical one. If some deny the above theory, 
 under the plea that, to admit it, means that the author 
 of the Visions could, at the same time, strongly con- 
 demn certain abuses, while deriving himself a benefit 
 from them, the answer is : Quite so ; and it is a fact., 
 that our writer was such a man. 
 
 In the particular case now under examination (and 
 many others might be pointed out i), the poet well 
 knows that the rule put forward by him, to rid himself 
 of Reason and his reproaches, is not always followed ; 
 according to our surmises, he for one had probably 
 violated it. He avails himself of the advantages con- 
 ferred on him by the tonsure, since circumstances have 
 allowed of his receiving it. Is this right .^ Surely 
 not, answers Langland ; great disorder prevails on this 
 point, as on many others : 
 
 . . . Bondemcnnc barncs • han be mad bisshopes, 
 
 And barnes bastardes • han ben archidekenes, 
 
 And sopers and here sones ' for selvcr han be knyghtes. ^ 
 
 ^ He blames those who go to London and sing for souls, yet 
 he confesses that he does the same. He blames people of a 
 wandering habit, yet he is a wanderer ; he heaps scorn on the men 
 who seek for invitations at the houses of the great, yet he does so ; 
 he condemns " tho that feynen hem folis" (B. x. 38), and he 
 assumes the appearance of a " fole " ; he hates lazy people, 
 "lords," " lolleres,'' yet he lives himself as a lorcl, a lollcr, "a 
 spille-tymc," 
 
 and lovede wel fare 
 And no dede to do • bote drynke and to slepe. 
 (C. vi. 8.) 
 
 = C. vi. 70. From the time of Henry III. English kings left 
 no choice in this matter to their subjects ; all those who had a 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 71 
 
 In blaming this abuse, he shares the opinion of thei 
 Commons of England, with whom, in flict, he rarely 
 disagrees ; so much so that his work has, at times, the 
 appearance of a poetical commentary on the Parliament| 
 Rolls : " Item beg the Commons that it be ordained 
 and commanded, that no bondman or villein should put 
 his children henceforth to school, in order to advance 
 them by clerkship (clergie), and this for the main- 
 tenance and salvation of the honour of all free-men of 
 the realm." ^ Such boys would, of course, after having 
 thus begun life, find themselves in a false situation in 
 the world, and the object of obloquy. Everything 
 Langland says about himself and his ways of life 
 betrays, as we shall see, the false situation in which he 
 had to remain. 
 
 To cross, in this manner, the line between the two 
 classes, some help from the outside must have been in 
 most cases necessary ; left to his own resources, a 
 bondman would have had great difficulty in providing 
 
 certain revenue were bound to become knights. The subjects 
 were very slack in claiming this favour, the reason being the 
 obligations (military service, aids, &c.) which they had then to 
 face. Under Henry III., any landowner, deriving £^^o revenue 
 from his land, had to become a knight ; under Edward III. the 
 sum was £,\o. See writ of Edward III. to the Sheriffs of London, 
 asking for the names of all the citizens who possess such revenues 
 and have not thought fit to ask for knighthood. It is prescribed that 
 all of them " ordinem suscipiant militarem." "Liber Albus," 
 p. 190 ("Rolls"). 
 
 ' " Item priont les Communes dc ordeiner et comander que null 
 neif ou vileyn mette ses enfantz de cy en avant a escoles pour eux 
 avancer par clergie, et ce en maintenance et salvation de I'honour 
 de toutz frankes du roialme." " Rotuli Parliamcntorum," vol. 
 iii. p. 294, year 1391. 
 
72 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 " clergle " for his " barn," Patrons prepossessed by the 
 good quahties of the boy, must, in most cases, have 
 proffered a helping hand. This happened to Langland, 
 according to his own testimony : 
 
 " Whannc ich yong was," quathe ich " " meny yer hennes, 
 
 My fader and my frendes * founden me to scole, 
 
 Tyl ich wiste wyterliche * what holy wryte menede." ^ 
 
 He had thus been early prepared to " advance by 
 •clerkship." For this, the co-operation of friends had 
 been necessary, and his father alone could not have 
 ■done it. In fact, friends played the principal part in 
 his life at this period : hence the infinite gratitude he 
 bears them, and the endless grief which filled his soul at 
 their death : 
 
 And yut fond ich nevcre in faith • sytthcn my frendes deyden, 
 Lyf that me lyked • bot in thes longe clothes.^ 
 
 To sum up : i . The tone of Langland seems to 
 betray a low extraction ; 2. He says that Holy-Church 
 a "free man him made"; 3. That, if he does not 
 work as a workman, as he should, the reason is that 
 he has received the tonsure {not that his birth exempts 
 him) ; 4. It is a fact that bondmen's sons went to 
 school and got their freedom in this way ; 5. This 
 case is not the only one in which Langland con- 
 demns wliat he considers an abuse, while at the same 
 time availing himself of it ; 6. His father alone would 
 have been unable to provide for his schooling 3 ; 7. His 
 
 ^ C. vi. 35. 2 Q y}_ ^o. 
 
 3 The conclusions of the critic who has given most attention 
 Xo the Dublin MS., where Langland's father is spoken of as 
 ■"generosus," differ very little from this: "We are reduced 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 73 
 
 remarks about himself, as we are going to see, betray 
 the false situation in which he was placed in after life. 
 
 So long, therefore, as no new elements are produced 
 for the solving of the problem, the examination of all 
 the material now available leads us to conclude that 
 our poet, called William Langland, was of low ex- 
 traction, and probably born at Cleobury Mortimer. 
 
 The date of his birth can be ascertained with some 
 degree of probability. In the B text, Ymagynatyf says 
 to him : 
 
 I have folwed the in feithe • this fyve and fourty wyntre.^ 
 
 This text belonging to the year 1376-7, Langland 
 must have been born about 133 1-2. 
 
 II. 
 
 His mode of life, his tastes, his character are clearly 
 indicated in his poem. We can, thanks to the work, 
 picture to ourselves the poet as follows. 
 
 When quite young, he had, as we have seen, been 
 placed at school by his father and by friends. His life 
 oscillated principally between Malvern and London. 
 Even when residing in the latter town, his thoughts 
 
 therefore," says Dr. Pearson, " to supposing that the Langley we 
 seek for was a subtenant of the Burnels ; and this assumption of 
 an obscure origin agrees altogether best with what we should 
 naturally conjecture of the poet's antecedents" [North British 
 Review, 1870, p. 244). 
 
 ^ B. xii. 3. Gf B. xi. 46. In the C text, the line is preserved, 
 but it is appropriately worded in a different and vaguer way : 
 
 "Ich have yfolwed the in faith ■ more than fourty wynter." 
 <C. XV. 3.) 
 
74 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 turn to Malvern, to its hills and verdure ; he imagines 
 himself there, for tender ties, those ties that bind man 
 to mother earth, and which are only formed in child- 
 hood, endear the place to him. While pacing Cornhill 
 and Cheapside, he was wont to see — what is not to be 
 seen there — what '^ poor Susan " saw, many a century 
 
 later : 
 
 She sees 
 A mountain ascending, a vision of trees ; 
 Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, 
 And a river flows through the vale of Cheapside . . 
 
 She looks, and her heart is in heaven : but they fade. 
 The mist and the river, the hill and the shade : 
 The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise. 
 And the colours have all passed away from her eyes/ 
 
 If it is alleged (as it has been) that this is making too 
 much of Malvern, when the place is named only four 
 times by name in the Visions,- the answer will be 
 that, to name it at all, Langland must have been deeply 
 under the spell of the place. Nothing is less usual for 
 the poets of the time, than to specify the localities 
 where they dream their dreams on a May morning. 
 Gower lies on the ground in '* a swote grene pleine," 
 any plain in the world. Good Chaucer, with his 
 practical turn of mind, does not like much to lie on 
 the grass, and usually goes to bed. He goes to bed, to 
 dream of the " House of Fame " : 
 
 Whan hit was nyght, to slepe I lay 
 Ryht ther as I was wont to done. 
 
 1 Wordsworth, "The Reverie of Poor Susan," 1797, 
 
 2 C. i. 6 and 163 ; vi. iio; x. 295. 
 
THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 75 
 
 He dreams of the " Duchesse," while sitting in his 
 " bedde." When he intends Hstening to the debates of 
 the assembled " Foules," he cautiously retreats to his 
 room : 
 
 And to my bed I gan me for to dresse. 
 
 He risks, it is true, a sleep in the open air, in the 
 "Legende of Goode Women," but he does it obviously 
 to submit to fashion, and while so doing, he takes 
 some little precautions. He sleeps 
 
 ... in a litel herber that I have. 
 
 Where was it ? He does not say. There again 
 "a bed" was dressed for him. Such wants are unknown 
 to Langland : 
 
 On Malverne hulles 
 Me byfel for to slepe ' for weyrynesse of wandryng ; 
 
 and later, in the course of the poem, he finds himself 
 there again, hungry and moneyless : 
 
 Ich awook • and waitede (looked) aboute, 
 And scih the sonne in the south • sitte that tyme. 
 Meteles (meatless) and moneyles • on Malverne hulles, 
 Musynge on this meteles (dream) • a myle-wey ich yeod 
 (went).^ 
 
 . A convent, belonging to the Benedictine order, and a 
 school formerly existed at Malvern, and there, in all 
 likelihood, Langland first studied,)' Even before the 
 Conquest, there had been at this place " quoddam here- 
 mitorium," in which St. "Werstan" had flourished, one 
 
 ' C. X. 293. 
 6 
 
76 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 of the most shadowy names in the very shadowy 
 calendar of Saxon saints. The island was then so 
 blessed with saints, observed a chronicler of the 
 Norman times, that you could scarcely pass a village 
 of importance, without hearing the name of a local 
 holy man and unknown saint, i 
 
 To come to more solid ground, we know for certain 
 that Aldwin, the monk and hermit, began the priory 
 church about 1084. ^ miraculous prophecy had caused 
 him. to do so. He was leading the life of hermits at 
 Malvern, " in vastissimo illo saltu quod Malvernum 
 vocatur," when he felt greatly tempted, after a con- 
 versation with Guido his companion, to go to the 
 East, " where he might, either see the Sepulchre of 
 God, either meet a happy death at the hands of the 
 Saracens." Before, however, undertaking the journey, 
 he went for counsel to Wulfstan, the famous Saxon 
 Bishop of Worcester. " Do not go anywhere, please, 
 Aldwin," said the Bishop, " but remain where you are. 
 You would be astonished, were you to know what I 
 know, and what God intends to do there through you."- 
 Aldwin returns to Malvern ; devotees flock to him in 
 considerable numbers ; there are soon more than three 
 hundred of them ; supplies of all sorts are forwarded 
 to him by the good people of the country, and then 
 
 ^ " Quid dicam de tot episcopis, heremitis, abbatibus ? nonne 
 tota insula tantis reliquiis indigenarum fulgurat ut vix aliquem 
 vicum insignem prsetereas ubi novi sancti nomen non audias ? 
 Quam multorum etiam periit memoria pro scriptorum inopia ! " 
 William of Malmcsbury, " Gesta Regum Anglorum," London, 
 1840, 2 vols. 8vo, vol. ii. p. 417. 
 
 ^ William of Malmesbury," Gesta Pontificum Anglorum," London 
 ("Rolls"), 1870, p. 287. 
 
THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 77 
 
 he lays the foundations of the great church. A long 
 succession of priors came after him ; Thomas de Legh 
 and John de Painswick ruled the convent when our 
 poet lived, as it seems, at Malvern. ^ 
 
 Now, as then, the place is beautiful. Behind the 
 town, lie the hills where Langland loved to wander ; in 
 places, is seen, amid the grass, the red earth and sand- 
 stone of which they are formed ; their summits and 
 hollows become gradually blue as the mist falls. 
 
 From the top, an immense verdant plain can be 
 descried, furrowed by streams bordered with trees ; 
 the shadows and sunshine of an ever varying sky illu- 
 mine the brooks and soften the outline of the woods ; 
 the huge pile of Worcester cathedral rises to the 
 left, in the midst of the plain ; from the height of 
 -" Herefordshire beacon," crowned with the well-pre- 
 served earthworks of a Roman camp, the soft undula- 
 tions of the Welsh country are discovered. The plain 
 is the same " feir feld," spoken of by the poet, a vast 
 expanse where all humanity can assemble, like in the 
 
 ' See list of priors in James Nott, " Some of the Antiquities of 
 'Moche Malverne,'" Malvern, 1885, 8vo, p. 95. The name of Mal- 
 vern is thus commented upon by William of Malmesbury : "Increvit 
 etiam nostris diebus in eadem provintia Malvernense monasterium, 
 quod mihi per antifrasin videtur sortitum esse vocabulum. Non 
 enim ibi male, scd bene et pulcherrime religio vernat, ubi ad 
 immortalitatem spem et commodum mortalium rerum penuria 
 monachos trahit et animat." " Gesta Pontificum Anglorum," 
 ibid. p. 296. A variety of documents relating to Malvern will be 
 found in W. Thomas, " Antiquitates prioratus Majoris Malverne 
 . . . cum chartis originalibus," London, 1725, 8vo, and Nash, 
 "Collections for the History of Worcestershire," London, 1781, 
 2 vols, fol., vol. ii. pp. 121 et seq. 
 
7 8 PIERS PL O JVM A N. 
 
 Valley of Jehoshaphat. The hills, which slope west- 
 ward, to-day studded with jessamine and rose-wreathed 
 villas, were then desert. In this " wilde wildernesse, 
 and bi a wode-syde," the poet used to walk, brooding 
 over his thoughts ; sometimes he halted, 
 
 To lythe (listen to) the laves " the levely foules made ; 
 
 and, leaning against a linden, allowed his fancy to be 
 lulled by their song.' He followed the flight of the 
 clouds across the sky, and the march of the mists on 
 the hillside,- hearing, in the same fashion as a poet ot a 
 later date, hearing oftentimes. 
 
 The still sad music of humanity.3 
 
 The then scarcely finished church of Malvern, half 
 Norman, half Gothic, reared its high roof and tower 
 at the base of the hills. Holy and quiet was the 
 place. 
 
 Great changes have occurred. The beautiful re- 
 fectory of the convent, then newly built, adorned with 
 fine wood tracery and carvings, has been pulled down 
 in our century, for no reason but to make room for 
 
 ^ And thus I went wide-whcre " vvalkyng mync one (alone), 
 
 By a wilde wildernesse • and bi a wode-syde. 
 
 Blisse of tho briddes " abyde me made, 
 
 And under a lynde uppon a launde • lened I a stounde. 
 
 To lythe the^layes" the levely foules made. 
 
 (B. viii. 62.) 
 ^ Thow myght bet mete the myst • on Malverne hulles 
 
 Than gete a mom of hurc mouth • til moneye be hem shewid. 
 
 (C. i. 163.) 
 3 Wordsworth, "On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye," 1798. 
 
^^^-mt^'^^mmmm^^^w^^ j 
 
 < 3 
 
 
THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 79 
 
 something else.' The case was different with the 
 church ; so far back as the XVth century, it was 
 found to threaten ruin, and, owing perhaps to the fall 
 of the great tower, a then rather common accident, the 
 monks had partly to rebuild it in 1450 60 ; most of 
 the tracery now to be seen belongs to this period ; 
 new stained glass was supplied to replace the old broken 
 windows,^ of which, however, a few fragments have 
 been preserved. In our century, Gilbert Scott restored 
 the church again with a strong hand. 
 
 Parts of the old pile, however, remain ; the large 
 Norman pillars of the nave, against which Langland 
 must often have leant, stand intact to this day ; a 
 warrior in chain mail armour sleeps in the choir ; Prior 
 Walcher of Lorraine was dug up, in the last century, 
 from a neighbouring garden, and his tomb has now been 
 placed under an arch in the church ; curiously sculp- 
 tured stalls, twenty-four in number, have been preserved. 
 These stalls were not in existence when Langland lived 
 at Malvern, and were carved only in the following 
 century, but most of the subjects represented fit some 
 passage in his Visions. The fact is most probably un- 
 intentional, but none the less curious as showing the 
 prevalence of the same spirit in poet and sculptor. 
 There we may notice an incident of the perennial war 
 between cats and mice, the question for the " ratons " 
 being, however, not to bell the cat, but to hang him ; 3 
 
 ^ See Ed. Blore, "Description of the Refectory of the Priory 
 of Great Malvern," in Archceologia, 1844, 
 
 ^ On the stained glass at Malvern (Great and Little), see notices 
 by Albert Way and by E. Oldfield in the Arch^ological Jourtial^ 
 vol. ii. p. 48, and vol. xxii. p. 302. 3 See above, p. 43. 
 
8o PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 a portrait of Sir Gloton, a representation of untonsured 
 labourers reaping, mowing, working at shoes, ot a 
 physician tending a patient, ^ &c. 
 
 Malvern has long ceased to be a place for people 
 enamoured of solitude ; it has become one of the most 
 famous of health resorts ; all that was sombre has 
 been whitewashed, church and cottages ; everything 
 there is clean and neat, restored and well kept ; the 
 very houses are the picture of health ; the churchyard 
 even has assumed an " air de circonstance ; " it has an 
 appearance of peaceful contentment, a place where the 
 dead must be glad to be. Everything there looks 
 inviting. If the dark figure of Piers Plowman were 
 to appear again, it would be whitewashed by the careful 
 inhabitants. 
 
 A different Malvern our poet knew, a secluded place, 
 with a school, and " bokes to rede and to lerne." There 
 he studied ; but, from childhood, imagination pre- 
 dominated in him. It had not yet obtained such a 
 hold as to lead him to the verge of hallucination, but 
 its ascendancy was already visible. The young man's 
 intellectual curiosity and facility are very great ; his 
 studies cover a vast ground, but do not go deep ; 
 imagination always leads him away, he is incapable of 
 continued application or research. He is, by nature, a 
 vagabond, both physically and mentally ; he roams 
 over the domain of science, as he wandered over his 
 
 ' These subjects have been often misinterpreted ; the man 
 sitting at his meal with bowl, loaf, knife, &c., has been said 
 to represent the consecration of the sacramental elements ; the 
 bottles which the physician handles, "wateres to loke," as Lang- 
 land says, have been described as money bags. 
 
/\\{ / I //WW^IlHt^^^f 
 
 A. 
 
 
 
 :■ -.^ ' --'L *\v- 1'>( 
 
 INTERIOR VIEW OF THE REFECTORY AT GREAT MALVERN. 
 D^awn by E. Blore, 1837. 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 8i 
 
 beloved hills, at random, in every direction, listening 
 here to the song of the birds, and gazing there at the 
 motion of the fleecy vapours : 
 
 Thus yrobed in russet " I roamed aboute 
 
 Al a somer sesoun . . . 
 
 And thus I went widc-where * walkyng myne one . . . 
 
 In manere of a mendvnaunt. . . . ' 
 
 Certain sciences, of which he had a tincture, were 
 taught solely at the universities, and he could only 
 have acquired a knowledge of them at Oxford or Cam- 
 bridge ; he may therefore have left the priory school to 
 stay in one of these places. The intercourse between 
 Malvern and the universities was very frequent, and 
 numerous documents of the XlVth century have 
 been preserved, showing that licenses were freely 
 granted to studious clerks, willing to leave Malvern for 
 a time, and to follow the lectures in some more learned 
 town.- 
 
 Langland received more or less complete notions of 
 theology, logic, grammar, prosody, law, natural history, 
 
 ' B. viii. I and 62, B. xiii. 3. 
 
 '^ "Richard de Bristol, clerk, 1304, had license for two years' 
 non-residence for the sake of studye, and respite meanwhile from 
 taking orders. In 1325, Thomas de Leys, priest, had 'a year's dis- 
 pensation of leave.' Robert le Hont, in 1326, had three years' 
 dispensation given him for the 'sake of studye,' being an acolyte, 
 and three years more, in 1330. Master John Huband, Aug. i, 
 134.5, ^^'i ^ year's license of 'non-residence,' and John Slourtre, 
 rector of Quatt {i.e. Malvern), had a year's license 'for studye,' 
 dated Feb. 7. 1357." James Nott, "Some of the Antiquities of 
 ' Moche Malverne,'" 1885, 8vo, p. 33. 
 
8 2 PIERS PL WMAN. 
 
 astronomy, " an harde thynge,"' &c. We perceive, here 
 and there in his work, that he has retained something 
 of all these sciences. If he comes across disputing 
 friars, he refutes their arguments with school formulas 
 and syllogisms : " Contra^ quod I, as a clerke." - If a 
 charter is exhibited in his presence, he well knows what 
 qualities will make it receivable, and what flaws cause 
 it to be rejected in a court of justice : 
 
 A chartre is chalcngcablc " byfor a chief justice ; 
 
 If false Latync be in the Icttre " the lawe it inpugneth, 
 
 Or peynted parenterlinaric • or parceles over-skipped ; 
 
 The gome (creature) that gloseth so chartres • for a goky 
 
 (idiot) is holden. 
 So is it a goky, by God • that in his gospel faillcth, 
 Or in masse or in matynes • maketh any defaute.3 
 
 He has learnt the properties of animals, stones, and 
 
 ' All the sciences that "Dame Study" taught then are enume- 
 rated with care. " Logyke," she says, 
 
 Logyke I Icrned hir ■ and many other lavves, 
 
 And alle the musouns in musike • I made hir to knowc . . . 
 
 Grammer for gerles (children) • I garte first wryte . . . 
 
 Ac Theologie hath tencd me • ten score tymes . . . 
 
 Ac astronomye is an harde thynge " and yvcl for to knovve, 
 
 Geometric and geomesye • is ginful of speche. 
 
 (B. X. 171, 175, 180, 207.) 
 
 2 Friars pretend that Dowel lives with them : 
 
 " Contra" quod I, " as a clerke • and comsed to disputen, 
 And seide hem sothli, species • in die cadit Justus . . . 
 And who-so synneth," I seyde • "doth yvel as me thinketh, 
 And Dowel and Do-yvel * mow nought dwelle togideres. 
 Ergo, he nys naught alway • amonge yow freres." 
 
 (B. viii. 20.) 
 
 3 B. xi. 296. 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 83 
 
 plants, a little from nature, and a little from books ; 
 now he talks as Euphues will do later, and his natural 
 mythology causes us to smile, and now he speaks as 
 one country-bred, who has seen with his own eyes, like 
 Burns, a bird build her nest, and has patiently watched 
 her do it : 
 
 I hadde wonder at whom " and where the pye lerned 
 To legge (lay) the stykk.es " in which she leyeth and bredcth ; 
 There nys wrighte as I wenc (think) • shuldc worche hir nest 
 to paye/ 
 
 Sometimes the animal is a living one, that leaps from 
 bough to bough in the sunlight ; at others, it is a strange 
 beast fit only to dwell among the stone foliage of a 
 cathedral cornice. 
 
 He knows French and Latin ; he has some tincture 
 of the classics ; he would like to know everything : 
 
 Alle the sciences under sonne " and alle the sotyle craftes 
 I wolde I knewe and couth • kyndely in myne herte ! ^ 
 
 His indignation is roused by so-called clerks, who are 
 nothing but asses, unable to write a verse, to draw a 
 letter, whose grammar is as faulty as their prosody, 
 who know just a little Latin and English, and nothing 
 more, that is, no French at all ; and not even so much 
 Latin as is needed for translating a classic : 
 
 Gramer, the grounde of al " bigylcth now children ; 
 
 For is none of this newe clerkes • who so nymcth hede, 
 
 That can versifye faire " ne formalich enditen ; 
 
 Ne nought on amonge a hundreth • that an auctour can construe, 
 
 Ne rede a lettre in any langage • but in Latyn or in Englissh.3 
 
 ' B. xi. 338. "To paye," i.e., to satisfaction. 
 ^ B. XV. 48. 3 B. XV. 365. 
 
84 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 * He, on the contrary, is desirous of knowing too 
 much; he does not read, he merely turns over the 
 leaves ; he does not study, he jumps at conclusions, 
 and he soon contuses and forgets ; his knowledge lacks 
 consistency, like the Malvern mists ; the clouds per- 
 meate each other and become undistinguishable. Thou 
 art, says appropriately Clergye, one of those who want 
 to know but hate to study : 
 
 The were let to lerne • but loth for to stodie.^ 
 
 Langland's youth was spent between these two 
 masters ; he followed both " Wit " and " Study," 
 but Wit in preference ; a hundred times, he vowed 
 fidelity to Study,- and praised her in touching terms : 
 
 For if hevene be on this crthe " and ese to any soule, 
 It is in cloistre or in scolc • be many skilles I fynde ; 
 For in cloistre cometh no man • to chide ne to fighte, 
 But alle is buxumnessc there and bokes • to rede and to lerne. 3 
 
 All in vain, the powder of fancy could not be resisted; 
 he was, as he says himself, " frantyk of wittes " ; 
 already he lost himself in reveries, or else he read 
 romances of chivalry, the history of Guy of Warwick 
 
 ^ A. xii. 6. Study is indignant to sec how much the poet has 
 learnt without her help, and thanks only to Wit. It is a pity Wit 
 gives encouragement to such " folis" : 
 
 She was wonderly wroth • that Witte me thus taughte, 
 
 And al starynge, dame Studye • sternelich seyde, 
 
 "Wei artow wyse," quoth she to Witte " " any wysdomes to 
 
 telle 
 To flatereres or to folis " that frantyk ben of wittes." 
 
 (B. X. 3.) 
 ^ B. X. 142, &c. 3 B. X. 300. 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LITE, AND CHARACTER. 85 
 
 and the fair Felice ; ^ he followed Ymagynatyf, who is 
 never idle ; - later, he will compose verses instead of 
 reciting the Psalms, as if there were not in the world 
 " bokes ynowe."3 
 
 His dreams, at this time, were not all dark ones ; like 
 his compatriot of the same century, Rolle, hermit of 
 Hampole, he had his dreams of youth, and of a brilliant 
 existence, and of love. Rolle used to remember, in his 
 retreat, after his conversion, the time of his youth ; 
 apparitions came to him with smiles ; a beautiful 
 young woman, whom he had known in the world, 
 seemed to stand beside him in his cell, " a full fa ire 
 yonge womane," says the good hermit, " the whilke 
 I had sene be-fore, and the whilke luffed me noght 
 lytil in gude lufe." 4 Sweet-looking apparitions came 
 to Langland also, with radiant smiles and tempting 
 words, saying : Thou art yonge and lusty, and hast 
 years many before thee to live and to love ; look in 
 this mirror, and see the wonders and joys of love. — I 
 shall follow thee, said another, till thou becomest a 
 lord and hast domains. 5 — And why not.^ He had 
 
 ^ He remembers her misfortunes and beauty : 
 
 Felyce hir fayrnesse • fcl hir al to sklaundre. (B. xii. 47.) 
 "^ "I am Ymagynatyf," quod he • " idel was I nevere." (B. xii. i.) 
 
 3 B. xii. 17. 
 
 4 "English Prose Treatises," ed. Perry, 1866, p. 5. 
 
 5 Cojicupiscentia-C amis' colled me aboute the nelcke, 
 
 And seyde, " thow art yonge and yepe • and hast yeres ynowe, 
 Forto lyve longe * and ladyes to lovye. 
 
 And in this myroure thow myghte se • myrthes ful manye, 
 That leden the wil to lykynge " al thi lyf-tyme." 
 
 The secounde seide the same • " I shal suv/c thi vville ; 
 Til thow be a lorde and haue londe. . . ." (B. xi. 16.) 
 
86 PIERS FLO IVMAN. 
 
 indeed life before him ; he had started from the lowest 
 point, and had rapidly risen ; the hardest part was 
 over ; his heaviest chains had fallen off; his quick 
 wit had obtained patrons for him ; he would rise 
 in the world, he would be loved, and he would be 
 powerful. 
 
 III. 
 
 This dream was to remain a dream. Great expecta- 
 tions he might indulge in, so long as the friends, who 
 had been the protectors of his boyhood, lived ; by him- 
 self, or with the sole aid of his father, he could do 
 nothing. Should his friends disappear, before his for- 
 tunes were firmly established, it meant certain ruin, 
 the impossibility of rising in life, and all the miseries 
 attendant on a false situation, an " advancement by 
 clergye," of which the origin was too recent to be 
 forgotten. 
 
 This is precisely what happened. The friends of 
 the poet died. They disappeared, perhaps during one 
 of those terrible epidemics that swept away whole 
 families and depopulated entire villages. If they 
 perished in the great pestilence of 1349, which raged 
 cruelly in the west,i the poet would then have reached 
 
 ' " Tunc pestis dolorosa penctravit maritima per Southamp- 
 tonam et venit Bristollam, ct moriebantur quasi tota valitudo villa: 
 •quasi subita morte prasoccupati, nam pauci erant qui lectum occu- 
 pabant ultra iij dies, vel duos dies, aut dimidium diem. . . . Et 
 moriebantur apud Leycestriam in parva parochia Sancti Leonardi 
 plusquam cccLxxx. In parochia Sanctas Crucis plusquam cccc . . . 
 et sic in singulis parochiis in magna multitudine." Knyghton, an 
 eye-witness ; in Tvvysden, " Decem Scriptores," col. 2599. 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LITE, AND CHARACTER. 87 
 
 the age of eighteen. Being young, strong, and full of 
 hope, he must have kept his illusions some time longer. 
 But, little by little, the lights faded and the clouds grew 
 darker. Isolation, poverty, and desire, all evil coun- 
 sellors, now influence him. He has no one to help 
 him ; he has only his " clergye," which is extensive if 
 superficial, and we find him in London, trying to live 
 by means of it, of " that labour that ich lerned best." ^ 
 
 Religious life, in the Middle Ages, did not have those 
 well defined and visible landmarks which we are accus- 
 tomed to. Nowadays, one either is or is not, of the 
 Church; formerly, no such obvious divisions existed. 
 Religious life spread through society, like an immense 
 river without dykes, swollen by innumerable affluents, 
 whose subterranean penetrations impregnated even 
 the soil through which they did not actually flow. 
 From this arose numerous situations difficult to define, 
 bordering at once on the world and the Church, a state 
 of things with which there is no analogy now, except in 
 Rome itself, where the religious life of the Middle Ages 
 still partly continues. 
 
 In Rome, many clerks receive minor orders and do 
 not go beyond. They perform ecclesiastical functions, 
 such as those of sacristans, or chanters ; they are 
 married, but nevertheless wear a tonsure and a clerical 
 dress. What is now customary only in Rome, used, 
 in the Middle Ages, to be so in Paris, London, and 
 everywhere. 
 
 ' Yf ich by labourc sholde lyve " and lyflode deserven, 
 
 That labour that ich lerned best • ther-with lyve ich sholde ; 
 /// eadem vocatione in qua vocati cstis matiete. 
 
 (C. vi. 42.) 
 
88 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 The vocabulary used with reference to these situa- 
 tions had a vagueness in accordance with the undefined 
 character of the situations themselves ; neither had 
 sharply cut limits. A " clerk " meant a man able to 
 read, and this man, or clerk, could claim certain ecclesi- 
 astical privileges ; a chaplain was not necessarily a 
 priest hearing confession and saying mass ; he was 
 sometimes simply the custodian of a chapel, or a keeper 
 of relics. 
 
 Numerous semi-religious, and slightly remunerative 
 functions, were accessible to clerks, who were not, how- 
 ever, obliged to renounce the world on that account. 
 The great thing in the hour of death being to 
 ensure the salvation of the soul, every man of fortune 
 continued, and sometimes began, his good works at 
 that hour. He endeavoured to win Paradise by proxy. 
 He left directions, in his will, that, by means of lawful 
 hire, a few soldiers should be sent to battle with 
 the infidel ; and he also founded what were called 
 *' chantries." ^ A sum of money was left by him, in 
 order that masses, or the service for the dead, or both, 
 should be chanted, either for a certain number of years, 
 or for ever, for the repose of his soul. 
 
 The number of these chantries was countless ; 
 every arch in the side aisles of cathedrals contained 
 
 ^ '■'• Cantaria, cafituaria, beneficium ecclesiasticum, missis decan- 
 tandis addictum, et cui desserviunt qui alias capellani dicuntur. 
 Cantaria, cantoris dignitas, officium ecclesiasticum, Gall, chantrerie " 
 (Du Cange). 
 
 "A la charge . . . de faire par chascun an, aprcs nostre dcces, 
 a tel jour qu'il aura este, une chantrerie de trois grans messes." — 
 A.D. 1471. Godefroy, "Dictionnairc de I'ancienne langue Fran- 
 ^aise," word Cha?itrerie. 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 89 
 
 some, where the service for the dead was sung ; some- 
 times separate edifices were built with this view. A 
 priest celebrated divine service when the founder had 
 asked for masses ; and clerks performed the office of 
 choristers, being, for the most part, individuals only 
 received into the first ecclesiastical degrees, and not 
 necessarily in holy orders. It was, for them all, a 
 career, almost a trade ; giving rise to discussions con- 
 cerning salaries, and even to actual strikes. ^ The two 
 sorts of people attendant upon these foundations are 
 sometimes separately mentioned and named in the 
 deeds of creation : capellani and choristi. Sometimes 
 also, a school or hospital was attached to the chantry, 
 or helped out of the same funds : " Cantaria de Castell 
 Donyngton . . . founded ... to thentent to ffynde 
 one preste, as well to syng dyvyne servyce in a chapel 
 of our Ladye within the paroche churche there, and to 
 praye for the ffounders soule, as for to teche a gramar 
 scole there for the erudycyon of pore scolers within a 
 scole house ffounded by the seyde Harolde within the 
 seyde towne of Donyngton." Another is established 
 
 ' The Commons sometimes complain in Parliament that chap- 
 lains and choristers are very remiss in fulfilling their obligations : 
 e.g. year 1347, 21 Ed. III., " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 
 184. On another occasion, they complain that the same, as well 
 as all the labourers whatsoever, refuse to work at the old rate, 
 " depuis la grande pestilence ore tart," year 1362, ibid., p. 271. 
 They draw a distinction between the "chapeleins parochicls," who 
 can pretend to six marks and no more, and the chantry chaplains, 
 that is, chaplains "chantantz annales et a cure de almes nient 
 entendantz." They mention also the " chapeleins annals," whom 
 " homme seculer" may have '• retenuz a demurer a sa table"; 
 the very object, at a time, of our poet's ambition. 
 
90 ^ PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 " to praye ffor the ffounders solles, and to kepe hospy- 
 taallyte there." ^ 
 
 The rehgious services performed in the chantries 
 derived the name under which they commonly went, 
 from one of the words of the hturgy sung ; they were 
 called Placebos and Diriges.- The word " dirge " has 
 passed into the English language, and is derived from 
 the latter. The service for the dead, properly so called, 
 did not include mass ; it was a " vigil," 3 and could 
 
 ^ Walcott, " Chantries of Leicestershire," in the " Transactions 
 of the Leicestershire Architectural . . . Society." To another 
 foundation are attached *• xiii vikers chorall, iii clarks, vi 
 querysters." Ibid. 
 
 ^ "Et quod dicti nunc capcllani et successores sui cantarjje 
 praedicts in dicta capella insimul dicant septimanatim singulis 
 annis imperpetuum Placebo et Dirige, cum novcm leccionibus et 
 suis antiphonis versiculis et rcsponsoriis, omni feria quinta." 
 XVth century, Roch, "Church of our Fathers," London, 1849, 
 3 vols. 8vo. vol. i. p. 125. In the same way Langland states that 
 his tools are : 
 
 . . . Pater-7ioster and my prymer • placebo and dirige. 
 And my sauter som tyme " and my sevene psalmes. 
 Thus ich syngc for hure soules " of such as me helpen. 
 
 C. vi. 46. "Placebo" begins an antiphone in the service for the 
 dead (vespers) : "Placebo Domino in regione vivorum." "Dirige" 
 is the first word of an antiphone in the same service (matins) : 
 "Dirige, Dominus meus, in conspectu tuo, viam meam." "Officium 
 Defunctorum," Paris, LecofFre, pp. 20, 32. 
 
 3 " C'litait une vigile, qui comportait, commc toute vigile, des 
 vcpres, trois nocturnes et les laudes . . . Les vcpres avaient leurs 
 cinq psaumes antiphones, un verset et le Magnificat antiphone, 
 suivi du Kyi'ie eleison et de I'oraison dominicale. . . . Les trois 
 nocturnes commen^aient sans invitatoire, . . . chaque nocturne 
 comptait trois psaumes antiphones, trois lemons tirees du livre de 
 Job (neuf le9ons en tout), chacune suivie d'un repons tire aussi 
 
INTERIOR VIEW OF OLD ST. PAUL S. 
 From Dugdai.e's " ^'i. PauVs.'' 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 91 
 
 therefore be celebrated by clerks who were not 
 priests. 
 
 Chantries were especially numerous and richly 
 endowed in St. Paul's Cathedral, London, the famous 
 gothic church, with its innumerable arcades, altars, 
 shrines, and recesses, its Saxon tomb of King Sebba, its 
 shrine of St. Erkenwald, a far-famed church, endowed 
 by princes and merchants with ample revenues, and by 
 bishops with a wealth of pardons, no less useful in 
 those days. The ample structure and its appendages 
 were surrounded by a defensive wall, and formed a sort 
 of city within the City, a city of prayers and chant, 
 from which thieves " and other lewd people " were with 
 great difficulty expelled. " Upon information made to 
 King Edward I. that, by the lurking of thieves and 
 other lewd people, in the night-time, within the pre- 
 cinct of this churchyard, divers robberies, homicides, 
 and fornications had been oft times committed therein ; 
 for the preventing therefore of the like for the future, 
 the said king, by his patent, bearing date at West- 
 minster, X Junii, in the thirteenth year of his reign 
 . . . granted unto the . . . dean and canons, license 
 to include the said churchyard with a wall on every 
 side, with fitting gates and posterns therein, to be 
 opened every morning and closed at night." ^ 
 
 du livre de Job. . . . Les nocturnes avaient Icurs laudes : cinq 
 psaumes antiphoncs, un verset, le Benedictus antiphonc, le Kyrie 
 ekison et I'oraison dominicale. ... La vigile des morts en vint a 
 ctre cclcbrce quotidienncment tant dans les monastcres que dans les 
 chapitres et cglises paroissiales." BatifFol, " Histoire du Breviaire 
 Remain," Paris, 1893, pp. i8q, 190. 
 
 " ' Dugdale, "The History of St. Paul's Cathedral in London,'" 
 London, 1658, fol., p. 17. 
 
 7 
 
9 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 Some important chantries and many lesser ones had 
 been established within the church, the earliest one 
 dating so far back as the reign of Henry II. i One 
 had been instituted, in the Xlllth century, by Alice, 
 wife of " William Mareschall, son to William earl of 
 Pembroke,'' for the " health of her soul, and his, the 
 said William, his ancestours and successors soul," part 
 of the revenue " to be spent upon a lampe continually 
 burning over her tombe." Another was founded by 
 the executors of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, 
 " in a certain chapell situate on the north side of the 
 quire of this church, and opposite the tombe of the 
 said Duke and the Lady Blanch his wife," Chaucer's 
 "Duchesse. " The tomb was destroyed in the great 
 fire of 1666, but we have a fine engraving of it by 
 Hollar. The chantry was richly endowed by Henry 
 IV., the son of John and Blanche. The anniversary of 
 the deceased was to be commemorated " with Placebo 
 and Dirige, ix antiphones, ix psalms, ix lessons in the 
 exequies of either of them, as also mass of Requiem 
 ... to be performed at the high altar for ever." The 
 lord mayor was to be present, and to receive three 
 shillings and fourpence for his trouble ; some money 
 was also allowed to the dean, canons, vicars, choristers, 
 bell-ringers, lamp-keepers, &c. Lodgings were, in this 
 case, provided for the chantry priests : " To the Bishop 
 of London, for the rent of the house, wherein the said 
 chantrie priests did reside, xs." 
 
 Much care and money were spent in adorning the 
 chantry chapels ; some of those in St. Paul's glittered 
 
 ' Dugdale, "The History of St. Paul's Cathedral in London," 
 pp. 2^ et seq. 
 
TOMB OF JOHN OF GAUNT AND "BLAUNCHE THE DUCHESSE ' IN OLD ST. PAULS. 
 From Dugdale's ^' St. Paul's. 
 
THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 93 
 
 with azure and gold, and were enriched with statues, 
 tabernacles, and scenes from the Scriptures. Roger de 
 Waltham, for example (19 Ed. II.), "founded a certain 
 oratory on the south side of the quire in this cathedral! 
 . . . and adorned it with the images of our blessed 
 Saviour, St, John the Baptist, St. Laurence, and St, 
 Mary Magdalen ; so likewise with the pictures of the 
 celestiall hierarchic, the joys of the blessed Virgin and 
 others , . . in which oratory the chantry before men- 
 tioned was placed ; . . . and lastly, in the south wall 
 opposite to the said oratory, erected a glorious Taber- 
 nacle, which contained the image of the said blessed 
 virgin, sitting as it were in child-bed, as also of our 
 Saviour in swadling clothes, lying between the oxe and 
 the ass ; and St. Joseph at her feet. Above which was 
 another image of her, standing with the child in her 
 arms. And on the beame thwarting from the upper 
 end of the oratory to the before-specified child-bed, 
 placed the crowned image of our Saviour and his 
 mother, sitting in one tabernacle, as also the images of 
 St. Katherine and St. Margaret, virgins and martyrs. 
 Neither was there any part of the said oratory or roof 
 thereof, but he caused it to be beautified with comely 
 pictures and images. ... In which oratory he designed 
 that his sepulchre should be." ^ All Waltham's savings 
 were thus appropriated, and the good canon thought 
 with satisfaction that, among those splendid sculptures 
 and paintings, in this church which had been the centre 
 of his life, he would quietly sleep for ever. 
 
 Most of the chantries were of less importance ; they 
 would sometimes fall into disuse and be forgotten, like 
 
 ' Dugdale, ibid., p. 29. 
 
94 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 a worn-out inscription, defaced by the tread of men, 
 and years. A benefactor would then occasionally appear 
 to revive the foundation. Thus, in the year 1376, 
 Roger Holme, *' chancelour of London," did " restore 
 and establish a certain chantrie of one priest for the 
 soul of John de Wengham, some time chief chanter in 
 this cathedral, which chantrie was then utterly come to 
 nothing." 
 
 A world of church officials, priests, and clerks thus 
 won their livelihood in this busy prayer-mill. Some 
 felt so much attachment for the place that, as John de 
 Wengham, they would not leave it even after their 
 death, and, having chanted for others all their life, they 
 would be in their turn chanted for, " in perpetuum." 
 Others felt differently ; gold and azure had little effect 
 upon them ; to their number belonged the new-comer 
 from Malvern Hills. 
 
 To psalmody for money, to chant the same words, 
 from day to day and from year to year, transforming 
 into a mere mechanical toil the divine gift and duty of 
 prayer, could not answer the ideal of life conceived by 
 a proud and generous soul filled with vast thoughts. 
 Langland, however, was obliged to curb his mind to 
 this work ; " Placebo" and " Dirige " became his tools : 
 
 The lomes that ich laboiire with " and lyflodc deserve.' 
 
 He strongly condemned the abuse, and yet profited 
 
 by it, not without pangs, it is true, and without feelings 
 
 of indignation against himself; but he soon found he 
 
 had no other means of living, and was unable of escaping 
 
 , from this false situation and subordinate employment. 
 
 ' C. vi. 45. 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 95 
 
 l^e denounces with anger, but at the same time imitates < 
 those parsons and parish priests who go to their bishop 
 and say : Our parishioners have been ruined by the 
 plague ; we can draw nothing from them, and can no 
 longer stay among them. Let us go to London and 
 sing there for hire, " for silver is sweet " : 
 
 Personcs and parisch prestes • playneth to heore bisschops, 
 That heore parisch hath ben pore • seththe the pestilence tyme. 
 And asketh levc and lycencc • at Londun to dwelle, 
 To singe ther for simonye ' for selver is swete.^ 
 
 His last chance of rising in the world was 
 removed by marriage. The bondman's son might 
 have become a bishop ; such things had been, and 
 Langland himself notes it ; he held it an abuse, but 
 he would, may be, have availed himself of this as of 
 others. Married, however, this door was barred, and 
 great hopes were denied him. At this juncture, the 
 unreal world of visions began to supersede more and 
 more, before his mind's eye, the world of human inte- 
 rests that was closed for him. And thus it was that, 
 having once written down his dreams, he passed, con- 
 trary to his own intention,- his entire life altering them ; 
 he lived with them and in them. 
 
 We therefore find him in London, disappointed, 
 galled, and humiliated by the existence he leads, his 
 outward pride being proportionate to his inward abase- 
 ment. He lives in a little house in Cornhill, not far * 
 from St. Paul's, the cathedral of the many chantries, 
 and not far from that tower of Aldgate to which about 
 this time another poet, namely Chaucer, directed his 
 ' A. Prol. 80. - See A. xii. 103, 
 
9 6 FIERS PL WMA N. 
 
 dreamy steps every evening. Langland dwelt there 
 with his wife Kytte, and Kalote his daughter (otherwise 
 Catherine and Nicolette),i eking out, may be, the salary 
 earned by chanting, with money gained by drawing up 
 charters and writing letters.- 
 
 He has depicted himself at this period of his existence, 
 a great, gaunt figure, dressed in sombre garments with 
 large folds, sad in a grief without end, bewailing the 
 protectors of his childhood and his lost illusions, seeing 
 nothing but clouds on the horizon of this life. He 
 begins no new friendships ; he forms ties with no one ; 
 he follows the crowded streets of the city, elbowing 
 
 ^ Thus ich a-wakcd, God wot * whannc ich woncdc on Cornc- 
 hullc, 
 Kvtte and ich in a cote. 
 
 (C. vi. I.) 
 . . . and right with that I waked, 
 And called Kitte my wyf ' and Kalote my doughtcr. 
 
 (B. xviii. 425.) 
 - This was usual with chaplains and clerks. The custom was, 
 says Du Cange, " ut capellani proccrum corum esscnt amanuenses, 
 epistolas et diplomata conscriberent " ; and he gi\es an example 
 from the " Roman de Garin" : 
 
 Un chappelein appelle, se li dist : 
 Fes une lestres. 
 (Du Cange, -jerbo Capellanus.) There was, at Westminster, a 
 " chirographer " in chief, under whose direction clerks drew legal 
 documents. According to the statute, "le cerograffer prendra pur 
 I'engrosser de chescun fyn leve en la court le Roi, iiij s. tant soule- 
 ment." The Commons complain, in 1376, that he, and the clerks 
 under him, take more. " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 357. 
 As for Langland, it will be noticed that he derides clerks who are 
 iinable to draw a letter properly, and that, at several places, he com- 
 placently gives proof of his own knowledge in the matter of legal 
 documents. 
 
THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 97 
 
 lords, lawyers, and ladies of fashion ; he greets no one. 
 Men wearing furs and silver pendants, rich garments 
 and collars of gold, rub past him, and he knows them 
 not. Gold collars ought to be saluted, but he does not 
 do it ; he does not say to them, " God loke yow, 
 lordes ! " But then his air is so absent, so strange, that 
 instead of quarrelhng with him, people shrug their 
 shoulders, and say : He is " a fole "; he is mad. Mad ! 
 the word recurs again and again under his pen, the 
 idea presents Itself incessantly to his mind, under every 
 shape, as though he were possessed by it : fole, frantyk, 
 ydiote ! Madness, to be proud when one is so poor ! 
 Folly, not to respect furs when one depends for a 
 livelihood on those who wear them ! For that has 
 happened to him which he dreaded above all, he has 
 relapsed into a state of dependence ; another servitude 
 has begun for him, more cruel than that of his child- 
 hood, because he elbows the rich and prosperous. The 
 temptresses of his youth had warned him, and said, 
 showing him the delights of earth : These things we 
 will bestow upon thee, thou shalt possess and hold 
 them all ; thou shalt have them — if Fortune be willing, 
 " if Fortune it lyke " ; and Fortune had not been 
 willing. Thou shalt be loved, and " have londe," pro- 
 mised the fairies at his birth. '^ Havest thow londes to 
 lyve by ? " ^ now inquires Reason. He has neither 
 lands nor riches; he lives " /;/ Londone and on Londone 
 bothe," - singing psalms for hire, eating his fill only 
 when invited out, seeking for invitations, and showing, 
 at the same time, his scorn of the life he leads, by the 
 disparaging terms which he employs when describing it. 
 
 ^ C. vi. 26. 2 C. vi, 44. 
 
98 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 It is the life of a beggar, with this difference, that 
 beggars have a wallet and bottle in which to bestow 
 their provisions : 
 
 Thus-gate ich bcgge 
 With-oute bagge other hotel ' bote mv wombe one.^ 
 
 The apparitions had promised love ; and now that 
 years come, he has a wife so good as to wish he were 
 already in heaven. He sees, around him, nothing but 
 dismal spectres : Age, Penury, Disease.- 
 
 To these material woes are added mental ones. In 
 the darkness of this world shines at least a distant ray, 
 far off beyond the grave. But, at times, even this light 
 wavers ; clouds obscure and apparently extinguish it. 
 'Doubts assail the soul of the dreamer. Theology 
 ought to elucidate, but, on the contrary, only darkens 
 them : 
 
 The more I muse there-inne • the mistier it semcth, 
 And the depper I dcvyne ' the derker me it thinketh,3 
 
 says poor Langland. How is it possible to reconcile 
 
 ^ C. vi. 51. 
 
 2 Elde (old age), 
 
 . . . buffeted me aboute the mouthe • and bette out my tcthc, 
 And gyved me in goutes ' I may noughte go at large. 
 And of the wo that I was in ' my wyf had reuthe, 
 And wisshed ful witterly • that I were in hevene. 
 
 (B. XX. 190.) 
 
 3 Such is the account given of theology by Dame Study herself. 
 " Graunt mercy, madame," answers the poet, " mekeliche," and not 
 without a sneer. B. x. 181 and 218. Langland was fond of 
 making such answers. After an over-long sermon, he observes : 
 
 " This is a longe lessoun," quod I ' "and litel am I the wyser." 
 
 (B. x. 372.) 
 
THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 99 
 
 the teachings of theology with our idea of justice ? And 
 certain thoughts constantly recur to the poet, and 
 shake the edifice of his faith ; he drives them away, 
 they reappear ; he is bewitched by them, and cannot 
 exorcise these demons. Who had a finer mind than 
 Aristotle, and who was wiser than Solomon ? Still they 
 are held by Holy-Church " bothe ydampned !"i and 
 on Good Friday, what do we see ? a felon is saved who 
 had lived all his life in lies and thefts ; he was saved at 
 once, " with-outen penaunce of purgatorie." Adam, 
 Isaiah, and all the prophets remained " many longe 
 yeres " with Lucifer, and 
 
 A robbere was yraunceouncd • rather than thei alle . . . 
 Thanne Marye Magdaleyne " what womman dede worse ? 
 Or who w^orse than David * that Urics deth conspired ? 
 Or Poule the apostle • that no pitee hadde, 
 Moche crystene kynde • to kylle to deth r 
 And now ben thise as sovereynes • with sevntes in hevene, 
 Tho that wroughte wikkedlokest • in worlde tho thei were, 
 And tho that wisely wordeden and wryten many bokes 
 Of witte'and of wisdome • with dampned soules wonye ! ^ 
 
 No explanation satisfies him. He wishes he had 
 thought less, learnt less, " conned " fewer books, and 
 preserved for himself the quiet, '^ sad bileve" of "plow- 
 men and pastoures ;" happy men who can 
 
 Percen with di pater-noster- the paleys of hevene. 3 
 
 In these moments of anguish, he falls an easy prey to 
 material temptations ; satisfied lusts chase away melan- 
 choly for a time ; he follows "Coveityse of the eyghes" 
 
 ^ B. X. 386, 2 B. X. 420. 5 B. X. 457, 461. 
 
loo PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 and neglects Dowel and Dobet : "Have no conscience 
 how thow come to gode ! " ^ Then austere thoughts 
 regain their influence; he turns anew to his faith and to 
 the Church, with the passion and the tears of mystics in 
 all ages. He yields to the counsels of Reason : 
 
 " That ys soth," ich seide • " and so ich by-knowc, 
 That ich have tynt (lost) tyme • and tyme mysspended." 
 
 He atones for his past life, and 
 
 ... as he ■ that ohc havcth chaffarcd 
 That ay hath lost and lost • and attc laste hym happed 
 ' He bouhtc suche a bargayn • he was the bet evere. 
 And sette hus lost at a lef' at the lastc ende, 
 
 he hurries to church, 
 
 God to h Olio uric ; 
 By-for the crois on my knees* knocked ich my brcst, 
 Sykynge for my synnes • seggyngc my patct'-noster, 
 Wepynge and wailinge.'' 
 
 In this confession of the poet, are found some of the 
 symptoms of those diseases of the will which have been 
 so minutely studied in our time. 3 The bent of his 
 mind, the predominance of Ymagynatyf, his insatiable 
 curiosity, and his vast but frustrated hopes, his false 
 social position, his retired life, his reveries and his con- 
 templations, all tended to the ruin of that frail edifice, 
 human will. We can notice in his case the existence of 
 several among the phenomena which characterise these 
 
 ^ B. xi. 52. 2 Q yj ^2, 94., 105. 
 
 3 Th. Ribot, " I-es Maladies de la Volonte," eighth edition, 
 Paris, 1893, 8vo. 
 
THE A UTHOKS NAME, LIFE, AND CHAR A CTER. i o i 
 
 diseases, such as fixed ideas, and, with them, alteration 
 or depression of the will {dibouUe^ aboulie). " Volition 
 is a definitive state, and ends the struggle. ... In 
 changeable natures this definitive state is always a 
 temporary one ; that is, the willing self is of such 
 unstable nature that the most insignificant ripple on the 
 surface of conscience will alter it and make it different." 
 This explains in Langland the ebb and flow of contrary 
 desires, his being successively drawn to the world and 
 to God, and his sudden conversions. 
 
 Hence arises also his incapacity to act ; he re- 
 sembles those sick people who " may feel a desire to 
 act, but are incapable of acting in a proper manner. 
 They would like to work, and are unable to do so." 
 " Thought " always accompanies him : and " in the 
 same proportion as thought covers a larger field, 
 capacity for motion dwindles away." Thus it is we 
 find him incapable of reacting against the conditions of 
 his life ; he submitted to, yet was ashamed of them ; 
 he cursed them, without finding strength and energy 
 to break hated ties. He blames abuses, and yet takes 
 advantage of them, because his will is diseased. He 
 enters into interminable discussions with himself ; he 
 severs his person in two, and discusses with his other 
 self ; in his visions, he constantly comes to dialogue, 
 but in these dialogues it is always, under various names, 
 Langland's two selves that quarrel. In him is again 
 verified " how painfully uncertain is the singleness of 
 the self When there is a struggle, which is the true 
 self, the one that acts or the one that resists ^ If they 
 come to a standstill, then both remain separate and dis- 
 cernible ; if one of them yields, the other does not 
 
1 02 PIERS FLO WMAN. 
 
 represent more satisfactorily the whole person, than a 
 hard-won majority represents the whole State." ^ 
 
 p But, if his will is weak, his judgment is sound ; and 
 no one, as will be seen, has preached with more energy, 
 on many important questions, during the Middle Ages, 
 
 * the simple laws of common sense. This combination 
 of sense and folly, this madness with " method" in it, 
 is curious and strange ; but not, however, unexampled 
 among mystics and dreamers. 
 
 What was the end of this troubled soul ^ We do 
 not know. A fragment of a poem on the last years of 
 Richard - appears to have been written by him. Some 
 indications lead us to think that in his later years he 
 left London, where he had led his painful life, to 
 return to his Western hills. There we should like to 
 think of him, soothed, resigned, healed, contemplating 
 with a less anxious eye that " feir feld ful of folk" 
 where he had beheld the struggles of humanity, and 
 watching decline in the west that sun he had seen 
 rise, many years before, " in a somere seyson." 
 
 ' Th. Ribot, " Lcs Maladies dc la Volontc," ibid., pp. 36, 38, 
 138, 88. 
 
 - Published by Mr. Skeat with the " V'isions " under the title of 
 " Richard the Redcless." Mr. Skeat has given very good reasons 
 to show that this fragment must be attributed to Langland (Oxford 
 edition, vol. ii. p. Ixxxiv.). 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE WORLD. 
 I. 
 
 BECAUSE Langland reveres virtue, many com- 
 mentators have made a saint of him ; because he 
 condemns, as an abuse, the admission of peasants' 
 sons to holy orders, they have it that he was born of good 
 family; and because he speaks in a bitter and passionate 
 way of the wrongs of his time, they have made him 
 out a radical reformer, aiming at profound changes 
 in the religious and social order of things. He was 
 nothing of all this. The energy of his language, the 
 eloquence and force of his words may have given rise 
 to this delusion. In reality, he is, from the religious 
 and social points of view, one of those rare thinkers who 
 defend moderate ideas with vehemence, and employ all 
 the resources of a fiery spirit in the defence of common 
 sense. 
 
 The ideas of the greatest number, and average English 
 opinion, find in the Visions an echo or a commentary 
 that they had nowhere else at that time. Chaucer, with 
 his genius and his many qualities, his gaiety and his 
 gracefulness, his faculty of observation and that appre- 
 
1 04 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 hensiveness of mind which enables him to sympathise 
 with the most diverse specimens of humanity, has drawn 
 an immortal and incomparable picture of mediasval 
 England. In certain respects, however, the description 
 is incomplete, and one must borrow from Langland the 
 finishing touches. 
 
 We owe to Chaucer's horror of vain abstractions the 
 picturesque individuality of each one of his personages ; 
 all classes of society are represented in his works ; but 
 the types which impersonate them are so clearly charac- 
 terised, their singleness is so marked, that, on seeing 
 them, we think of them alone and of no one else ; 
 individuals occupy all the foreground, and the back- 
 ground of the canvas disappears ; we are so absorbed in 
 the contemplation of this or that man, that we think no 
 more of the class, the ensemble, the nation. 
 
 The active and actual passions of the multitude, 
 the subterranean lavas which simmer beneath a brittle 
 crust of good order and regular administration, all the 
 latent possibilities of volcanoes which this inward fire 
 represents, are, on the contrary, always present to 
 the mind of our visionary. Rumblings are heard and 
 herald the earthquake. The vehement and passionate 
 England that produced the great revolt of 1381 and 
 the heresy of Wyclif, that later on will give birth 
 to Cavaliers and Puritans, is contained in essence in 
 Langland's work ; we divine, we foresee her. Chaucer's 
 book is, undoubtedly, not in contradiction to that 
 England, but it screens and allows her to be forgotten. 
 
 Multitudes, like men, have their individuality. It 
 seems as if Chaucer had, in depicting his characters, 
 expended all his gift of individualising. His horror of 
 
THE WORLD. 105 
 
 abstractions does not extend to multitudes ; his multi- 
 tudes are abstract ones. Excepting two or three 
 profound observations, such as a man of his genius 
 could not fail to make, he shows us the mass of 
 humanity changeable, uncertain, " unsad, untrue : " ^ 
 remarks applicable to the crowds of all times and 
 recorded in the works of all authors. 
 
 From that point of view, Langland is very different 
 from his illustrious contemporary. He excels in the 
 difficult art of conveying the impression of a multitude, 
 not of an indistinct or abstract multitude, motion- 
 less, painted on the back scene of his stage and fit to 
 serve for any play ; his crowds of human beings have 
 a character and temper of their own ; he does not stop 
 long to describe them ; still, we see them ; when they 
 are absent from the stage, we hear them in the distance ; 
 we feel their approach. They are not any crowd, they 
 are an English crowd ; in spite of the wear and tear 
 of time, we still discern their features, as we do those of 
 the statues on old tombs. Their enthusiasm, their anger, 
 their bursts of joy, are in unison with those of to-day ; 
 we can intermingle old and new feelings, and there will 
 be differences of degrees, but no discord. It needs little 
 imagination to trace in the Visions sketches recalling 
 the gravity of a modern crowd listening in the open air 
 to a popular orator, or the merriment of a return from 
 Epsom. In their anger Chaucer's people exchange 
 
 ^ O stormy people, unsad and ever untrewe, 
 And undiscret, and chaunging as a fane, 
 Delytyng ever in rombel that is newe, 
 For lik the moone ay waxe ye and wane. . . . 
 
 ("The Clerkes Tale," vi. 57.) 
 
io6 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 blows on the highway ; Langland's crowds, in their 
 anger, sack the palace of the Savoy and take the Tower 
 of London. 
 
 Langland thus shows us what we find in none of his 
 contemporaries : crowds, groups, classes, living and 
 individualized ; the merchant class, the religious world, 
 the Commons of England. He is, above all, the only 
 author who gives a sufficient and contemporaneous idea 
 of that grand phenomenon, the power of Parliament. 
 Chaucer, who was himself a member of that assembly, 
 sends his franklin there ; he mentions the fact, and 
 nothing more : 
 
 Ful oftc tyme he was knight of the schire. 
 
 The part played by the franklin in that group, amid 
 that concourse of human beings, is not described. On 
 the other hand, an admirable picture represents him 
 keeping open house, and ordering capons, partridges, 
 and " poynant sauce " in abundance. At home, his 
 personality stands out in relief ; Chaucer is delighted 
 with the idea of the man, and so are we : 
 
 Withoute bake mctc was never his hous. 
 Of fleissch and fissch, and that so plentyvous, 
 It snewed in his hous of mete and drynke. . . . 
 Ful many a fat par trie h had he in mcwe, 
 And many a brcm and many a luce in stcvve. 
 Woo was his cook, but if his sauce were 
 Poynant and scharp. 
 
 But yonder, at Westminster, the franklin was doubt- 
 less lost in the crowd ; and crowds had little interest for 
 Chaucer. 
 
 The chroniclers, on the other hand, give us glimpses 
 
THE WORLD. 107 
 
 of this marvellous power, but they do not seem amazed 
 by it ; they do not stop to describe it ; in most of them 
 we only discern the strength of the Commons by ob- 
 serving the consequences of their debates. Froissart, it 
 is true, notes the fact that the kings of England have 
 to reckon with their subjects : " The king of England 
 must obey his people and do all they please." ' He 
 observes the power of the " Parliaments that sit at 
 Westminster on Michaelmas " ; but the grandeur of the 
 movement which brought about this political organisa- 
 tion escapes him entirely. To him, it is merely a 
 curiosity, which he mentions as he would have mentioned 
 Stonehenge. 
 
 In two documents only does that power appear great 
 and impressive as it really was, and those documents 
 are : the Rolls wherein are recorded the acts of Parlia- 
 ment, and the poem of William Langland. 
 
 No one before him, none of his contemporaries, had 
 seen so clearly how the matter stood. The whole 
 organisation of the English State is summed up in a 
 line of admirable conciseness and energy, in which the 
 poet shows the king surrounded by his people : 
 
 . . . Knyghthod hyrn ladde, 
 Might of the comunes • made hym to regne.^ 
 
 The power of the Commons is always present to the 
 mind of Langland. He constantly borrows similes 
 from the machinery of Parliament. He shows us how 
 
 ^ "II fault que li rois d'Engleterre obeise a son peuple et face 
 tout ce qu'il voellent." " Chroniques," ed. Luce, vol. i. pp. 
 
 337, 307- 
 
 ^ B. Prol. 112. 
 
1 08 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 petitions were submitted to the king in that assembly ; ^ 
 he observes the impossibility of doing without the 
 Commons, the necessity of their control to maintain 
 the balance of the State ; the whole organisation is 
 familiar to him, but nevertheless he sees it as grand 
 and imposing as it actually was. 
 
 The part played by the Commons is clearly defined. 
 By them the king reigns ; they see that the labourers 
 of the fields and the artisans of the towns feed and 
 clothe the sovereign, the knights and the clergy, honestly 
 and at reasonable prices. ^H We know how many statutes 
 on that subject, under Edward III. and Richard II., 
 were due to their somewhat indiscriminate zeal. They 
 make the laws with the assistance of the king, and of 
 Native Good Sense, " Kynde Wytte." When the king 
 is inclined to stretch his prerogative beyond measure, 
 when he gives in his speeches a foretaste of the theory 
 of divine right, when he speaks as did Richard II. a few 
 years after, and the Stuarts three centuries later, when 
 he boasts of being the ruler of all, of being " hed of 
 
 ' And thannc come Pees in-to parlement • and put forth a bille, 
 
 How Wrongc (&c.) 
 
 (B. iv.47.) 
 
 ^ B. Prol. 114. The king's council is also mentioned at the 
 same place : 
 
 And thanne cam kynde wytte ' and clerkes he made, 
 
 For to conseille the kyng • and the comune save. 
 
 The kyng and knyghthode • and clergye both 
 
 Casten that the comune • shulde hem-self fynde (provide for). 
 
 The comune contreved • of kynde witte craftes, 
 
 And for profit of alle the poeple • plowmen ordeygned. 
 
 To tilie and travaile • as trewe lyf asketh. 
 
 The kynge and the comune • and kynde witte the thridde 
 
 Shope law and lewte • eche man to knovve his owne. 
 
THE WORLD. 109 
 
 lawe," while the Clergy and Commons are but members 
 of the same : 
 
 " I am kynge with croune • the comune to reule. 
 
 And holykirke and clergye ' fro cursede men to defende. 
 
 ... I am hed of lawe ; 
 For ye ben but membres • and I above alle " ' — 
 
 Langiand stops him, and through the mouth of Con- 
 science, adds a menacing clause : 
 
 "In condicioun," quod Conscience * "that thow konne defende 
 And rule thi rewme in resoun • right wel, and in treuth." - 
 
 The deposition of Richard, accused of having stated, 
 nearly in the same terms, " that he dictated from his 
 lips the laws of his kingdom," 3 and the fall of the 
 Stuarts, are contained, so to say, in these almost 
 prophetic words. If views of this kind abound in 
 Langiand, it is because his temperament is that of 
 the nation, which temperament has scarcely altered 
 from the XlVth century to our own times ; it acts in 
 the same fashion, from century to century, in similar 
 circumstances. 
 
 ^Langiand is a man of sense, he does not expect 
 impossibilities ; he is a passionate adherent of Parlia- 
 ment, but a reasonable one ; he threatens and prophe- 
 sies, but all his efforts tend to avert catastrophes. He 
 speaks harshly to the king, but no less harshly to his 
 beloved Commons. Let us remember the fable of the 
 rats : the king is indispensable to the balance of the 
 
 ^ B. xix. 463. - B. xix. 474. 
 
 3 "Dixit expresse . . . quod leges sue erant in pectore suo," &c. 
 "Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. iii. p. 419. 
 
no PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 State ; if he disappeared, it would mean anarchy, and 
 the end of the English social edifice ; the poet protests 
 against the encroachments of the Commons and against 
 the idea that Parliament could do without a ruler : 
 
 Had ye . . . yowre vville • ye couthe noughte reule yowre- 
 selve/ 
 
 Even at that remote period the mainsprings of the 
 social powers are adjusted with such precision that, three 
 hundred years later, the ambassadors of Louis XIV. 
 find them exactly the same, and observe that on their 
 maintenance depend all the strength and stability of 
 the State. The Comte de Cominges, who did not 
 know a word of English and cannot be accused of 
 borrowing his remarks from Langland, writes in a 
 despatch : " The arrangement of the laws of this 
 kingdom is such, and has established such a balance 
 of power between the king and his subjects, that they 
 appear to be joined together by indissoluble ties ; so 
 much so that, failing one of the parties, the other 
 would go to ruin."- 
 
 Saving the quite exceptional and rare case of over- 
 weening ambition displayed during the Good Parlia- 
 ment, we may say that, on all questions, Langland is 
 entirely with the Commons, when, at least, they are not 
 the packed Commons of a " prive parliament." 3 We 
 
 I B. Prol. 200. 
 
 - " La disposition des lois de ce royaume a mis un tel tempera- 
 ment entre le Roi ct ses sujets, qu'il semble qu'ils soient joints 
 par des liens indissolubles, et que la separation de I'une des parties 
 entraine la ruine de I'autre." "A French Ambassador at the 
 Court of Charles II.," London, 1892, 8vo, p. 224. 
 
 3 Described in " Richard Redeless." See Appendix, XII. 
 
THE WORLD. m 
 
 know that, in the XlVth century, they did not 
 represent the lowest class of society, but a class 
 comparatively well off, whose views were not always 
 very liberal. On these matters, as on others, Lang- 
 land, though of an obscure origin, is always of their 
 opinion. He is in favour of the old division of 
 classes, ^ and of that regulation of wages by the State, 
 which was so often re-established, confirmed, and 
 strengthened with penalties, by the king at the request 
 of the Commons. In spite of statutes and tariffs the 
 labourers claim high pay ; the rightful rate is low ; 
 nevertheless they demand wages which are "outrageous," 
 says the statute ; - " heighlich," says Langland ; they 
 break out in imprecations against the king and his 
 council, who apply such laws to the detriment of the 
 labouring class. The poet also notes fresh demands 
 in the way of food ; craftsmen are no longer content 
 
 ' A " cherle " 
 . . . may renne in arrerage " and rowme so fro home, 
 And as a reneyed caityf ' recchelesly gon aboute ; 
 Ac Resoun shal rekne with hym • and casten him in arrerage. 
 B. xi. 124. This passage (not in A) recalls one of the peti- 
 tions of the Good Parliament of 1376. against the "laborers, 
 artificers et altres servantz," who " par grande malice . . . fuont 
 et descurront sodeynement hors do lours services, et hors de lours 
 pays propre, de countee en countee." Reason shall reckon with 
 them, says Langland. The interpretation put by the Commons on 
 this counsel of Reason is, that the labourers should be " prys et 
 mys in cepes " (stocks). " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 340. 
 ^ E.g., Statute 23 Ed. III. ; 25 Ed. III. st. i ; 36 Ed. III. ch. 8 ; 
 42 Ed. III. ch. 6, &c. These statutes describe a practice in- 
 vented by and due to the "malice des servants " which consists in 
 refusing all work if salaries are not raised ; they describe, in fact, 
 actual strikes. 
 
1 1 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 with bacon and penny-ale ; they must have meat and 
 fish ; they demand daintily prepared viands, they 
 clamour for them " chaude or plus chaud " : 
 
 Laboreres that have no lande " to lyvc on but her handes 
 Deyned nought to dyne a-day " nyght olde wortes (vegetables). 
 May no peny-ale hem paye " ne no pece of bakoun, 
 But it be fresch flesch other lische ' fryed other bake, 
 And that chaude or plus chaud' for chilly ng of her mawe.' 
 And but-if he be heighlich huyred " ellis wil he chyde . . . 
 And thanne curseth he the kynge ' and al his conseille after, 
 Suche lawes to loke " laboreres to greve.'' 
 
 Langland, like the Commons, labours under the 
 delusion that, in matters social and economical, one can 
 accomplish everything by laws and regulations ; he 
 persists in laying down rules. His poem, which 
 would almost seem a commentary on the Rolls of 
 Parliament, resembles still more clcsely the Book of 
 Statutes, or even the " Liber Albus," wherein are 
 recorded the municipal regulations of London. 3 Like 
 the legislators of the City, he is without mercy for 
 adulterators of all kinds, especially adulterators of edibles, 
 brewers, bakers, butchers, cooks. No pillories are high 
 enough for them ; " they poysoun the peple " ; their 
 wealth is a shame ; if they trafficked honestly they 
 
 ' To prevent the chilling of their stomach. 
 
 ^ B. vi. 309. In France, likewise, labourers now expected 
 "vins, viandes et autres chcses." Ordinance of 1354, Isambert, 
 vol. iv. p. 700. 
 
 3 " Munimenta Gildhalls," Riley (Rolls). £.^., " Est ordeinc 
 que le pris d'un joeven chapon ne passe trois deniers, d'un 
 auncien quatre deniers," for no other cause but that capons both 
 young and ancient are too expensive. Year 1363, "Rotuli 
 Parliamentorum," vol. iii. p. 280. 
 
THE WORLD. 113 
 
 could not build such fine houses, " thei tymbred 
 nought so heighe."i 
 
 Interdiction to carry gold and silver out of the 
 kingdom (all coin found on travellers embarking 
 at Dover and " that bereth signe of the kynge*" 
 should be confiscated) ; - hatred of Lombard and Jew 
 bankers ; 3 hatred and scorn of the royal purveyors ; 
 
 ^ Meires and maceres (mace-bearers) * that menes ben bitwene 
 The kynge and the comune " to kepe the lawes, 
 To punyschen on pillories • and pynynge stoles 
 Brevvesteres and bakesteres • bocheres and cokes ; 
 For thise aren men on this molde " that moste harme worcheth 
 To the pore peple • that parcel-mele buggen. 
 For they poysoun the peple " priveliche and oft, 
 Thei rychen thorw regraterye " and rentes hem buggen 
 With that the pore people • shulde put in here wombe ; 
 For toke thei on trewly • thei tymbred nought so heighe, 
 Ne boughte non burgages (tenements) ■ be ye ful certeyne. 
 
 (B. Hi. 76.) 
 
 2 And no man ... 
 
 Bere no selver over see * that bereth signe of the kynge, 
 Nouther grotes ne gold i-grave • with the kynges coroune, 
 Uppon forfet of that fe • hose hit fynde at Dovere, 
 Bote hit beo marchaund othur his men • or messager with 
 lettres. 
 
 (A. iv. 1 10.) 
 
 3 " Coveytise " confesses having been one of those "retonsores 
 monets" against whom many regulations have been framed, a 
 trick he has learnt from Lombards and Jews : 
 
 I lerned amonge Lumbardes" and Jewes a lessoun 
 To wey pens with a peys " and pare the hevyest. 
 
 B. V. 242. See also C. v. 194. In the same year when the B 
 text was written, the Commons declared that the Lombards " ne 
 servent de rien fors de mal faire " ; they must be expelled ; many 
 who go under the name of Lombards being spies, "come plusours 
 de ceux qui sont tenuz Lombardz sont Juys et Sarazins et privees 
 
1 1 4 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 horror of the confusion arisnig from that right of 
 " maintenance " thanks to which a sort of " bravi," 
 wearing the livery of their master, committed all 
 manner of misdeeds impossible to punish ; hatred of 
 forestallers, of fraudulent merchants : all the hatreds, all 
 the prohibitions which appear, in such numbers, in the 
 collections of mediasval laws, are found in the Visions. ^ 
 Like the Commons, Langland, as we have seen, is in 
 favour of peace with France ; his attention is concen- 
 trated on matters purely English ; distant wars fill him 
 with anxiety. He would willingly have kept to the 
 peace of Bretigny ; ~ he hopes the Crusades may not 
 recommence. Instead of killing the Saracens, Christians 
 should convert them ; and all those bishops of Nazareth 
 
 espies." They have introduced in the country " un trop horrible 
 vice que ne fait pas a nomer." Good Parliament of I37^- 
 I Wrongs of "Wronge" (see supra, p. 35) : 
 And thanne come Pees in-to parlement • and put forthe a bille 
 How Wronge ageines his wille * had his wyf taken . . . 
 He borwed of me bayard • he broughte hym home nevre, 
 Ne no ferthynge ther-fore • for naughte I couthe plede. 
 He meyneteneth his men • to morther myn hewen, 
 Forcstalleth my feyres • and fighteth in my chepynge, 
 And breketh up my bernes dore • and bereth aweye my vvhete, 
 And taketh (gives) me but a taile • for ten quarteres of otes . . . 
 I am noughte hardy for hym * uneth to loke. 
 B. iv. 47. All those wrongs are dealt with at the request of the 
 Commons, in innumerable statutes. Concerning "maintenance," 
 see, among others: 1 Ed. III. st. 2, ch. 4 ; 4 Ed. III. ch. il ; 
 10 Ed. III. St. 2 ; 20 Ed. III. ch. 4, 5, 6 ; 25 Ed. III. ch. 4 ; 
 I Rich. II. ch. 7, &c. Concerning forestallers and similar 
 people : 25 Ed. III. ch. 3 ; 27 Ed. III. st. 2, ch. 1 1 ; 28 Ed. III. 
 ch. 13. Concerning purveyors: 4 Ed. III. ch. 3 ; 5 Ed. III. 
 ch. 2 ; 10 Ed. III. St. 2 ; 25 Ed. III. st. 5; 34 Ed. III. ch. 2 ; 
 36 Ed. III. ch. 2, &c. ^ C. iv. 242. 
 
THE WORLD. 
 
 115 
 
 or Damascus who live so quietly in Europe, '^ that 
 hippe aboute in Engelonde,"i had much better go, as 
 apostles of peace, and convert their indocile flocks : 
 
 For Cryste cleped us alle " come if we wolde, 
 Sarascnes and scismatikes • and so he did tlie Jewcs.^ 
 
 II. 
 
 In the well-ordered England of our poet's dreams, 
 under the King and Parliament, who are the law-makers, 
 each class will have to perform a special function and 
 not encroach on that of others. The knight must 
 draw his sword to defend the priest and the labourer ; 3 
 he must kill the hares, foxes, and boars that destroy the 
 crops, and with his falcons he must hunt the wild-fowl. 
 
 . . . Kcpe • holikirke and my-selve {i.e. P. Plowman) 
 
 Fro wastoures and fro wykked men • that this worldes truyeth 
 
 (destroy). 
 And go hunte hardiliche • to hares and to foxes, 
 To bores and to brockes • that breketh adown myne hegges, 
 And go affaite the faucones • wilde foules to kille.4 
 
 ^ B. XV. 557. 2 ^ xi. 114. 
 
 3 The Commons express the same wishes : " Oe ceux seigneurs 
 et autres (possessioned on the coasts) y soient comandez sur grande 
 peyne de faire lour demoere en leurs possessions pres de la mierpar 
 la cause suis dite " (the defence of the kingdom). Good Parlia- 
 ment of 1376. See also the speech of John Philpot against the 
 slackness of the nobles, " Chronicon Angliag "(" Rolls "), p. 199. 
 Wyclif denounces to the same intent the grant of " worldly 
 lordschipis " to churchmen, who " reulen not the peple ne 
 meyntene the lond as lordis " ; and he writes a tract to show that 
 " fFor thre skillis lordis schulden constreyne clerkis to lyve in 
 mekenesse, wilful povert, and discrete penaunce and gostly traveile." 
 " Select English Works," ed, Arnold, vol. iii. p. 213. 
 
 + B. vi. 28. 
 
1 1 6 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 He must live in the open air and not be an emaciated 
 dreamer. There are knights who fast and lead a life 
 of privation, who, to mortify themselves, wear no 
 shirt : they do wrong. Let them take to their shirts 
 again, and leave fasting to those whose business it 
 is. I But, says Langland, always in favour of the 
 golden mean, do not let them, under the pretext that 
 austerities are not their concern, go to the other 
 extreme ; - let them beware of parasites and syco- 
 phants, " flaterers and lyers," of those professional 
 fools, " fool sages," whom " lordes and ladyes and 
 legates of holy churche " entertain in their dwellings, 
 that those scamps may " do them laughe." They 
 
 1 ... Treweliche to fyghte, 
 
 Ys the profession and the pure ordre * that apendeth to 
 
 knyghtes . . . 
 For thei shoulde nat faste • ne for-bere sherte ; 
 Bote feithfulliche defende • and fyghte for truthe. 
 
 (C. ii. 96, 99.) 
 
 2 Cf. " Richard the Redeless," on the extravagant dress of the 
 period. Some lords devote all their money to adorning themselves ; 
 and when they have spent much on some new^ dress, they have 
 it all re-cut again on the slightest remark of their Felice or 
 Pernell : so sensitive they arc : 
 
 . . . They kepeth no coyne ■ that cometh to here hondis, 
 But chaunchyth it fFor cheynes • that in Chepe hangith . . . 
 And, but if the slevis • slide on the erthe, 
 Thei woll be wroth as the wynde ' and warie hem that it 
 
 made . . . 
 And if Felice fFonde ony fFaute • thenne of the makynge, 
 Yt was y-sent sone ' to shape of the newe. 
 Still one must be dressed according to one's rank : 
 
 Yit blame I no burne (being) • to be, as him oughte. 
 In comliche clothinge • as his statt axith. 
 
 (R. R. iii. 138, 152, 160, 173.) 
 
THE WORLD. 117 
 
 will always find quantities of strolling players, tellers 
 of vain tales, tumblers who turn somersaults and 
 indulge in indecent gestures, besieging their doors. 
 All these vagabond minstrels are " the fendes pro- 
 cura tores ; " ^ if wanderers interest you, take pity on 
 the vanquished in life's combat, on the real poor, not 
 on the idle who beg rather than work, but on those 
 who suffer and labour, the wounded, maimed, defeated. 
 Your minstrels make you laugh after dinner } the poor 
 are " godes mynstrales,"- they will make you laugh in 
 the hour when life's feast shall draw to its close ; thanks 
 to them you will have then a smile on your lips. 
 
 And ye, lovely ladies • with youre longe fyngres, 
 
 you too have duties ; use those slim hands to embroider 
 chasubles for the churches ; wives and widows, weave 
 wool and hemp to clothe the poor, and teach your 
 
 ^ Ye lordes and ladyes • and legates of holy churchc, 
 
 That feden fool sages • flaterers and lyers, 
 
 And han lykynge to lythen hem • in hope to do yow 
 lawghe . . . 
 
 In youre deth-deynge • ich drede me sore 
 
 Lest tho manere men ■ to moche sorwe yow brynge. . . . 
 
 . . . Flaterers and foles • aren the fendes procuratores, 
 
 Entysen men thorgh here tales • to synne and to harlotrie . . . 
 
 Clerkus and knyghtes • welcometh kynges mynstrales . . . 
 
 Muche more, me thenketh * riche men auhte 
 
 Have beggers by-fore hem • whiche beth godes mynstrales . . . 
 
 Ther-for ich rede yow riche • reveles when ye maken 
 
 For to solace youre soules " suche mynstrales to have . . . 
 
 Thuse . . . manere mystralcs • maken a man to lauhe 
 
 In hus deth dcynge. 
 
 (C. viii. 82, ct seq.) 
 - A word derived from St. Francis, who used to say that his 
 mendicant friars would be God's minstrels, "joculatores Dei." 
 
1 1 8 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 daughters the serious duties of life and the works of 
 mercy. I 
 
 The merchants, who have acquired great wealth, 
 must use the superfluity of their riches for the common 
 weal ; they must endow " meson-dieux," those refuges 
 for poor wretches ; they must devote themselves to that 
 pious work, so important in the Middle Ages, the 
 restoration of broken bridges and the improvement of 
 " wikkede weyes " ; they must " maydenes helpen " 
 and pay for the support of poor scholars : all of them 
 good works, which were really practised by the best 
 among the rich merchants of Hull, Bristol, and 
 London, whose number and influence were already 
 very considerable in the XlVth century.- 
 
 Piers Plowman shall feed every one ; he is the 
 mainspring of the State ; he realises that ideal of 
 disinterestedness, conscience, reason, which fills the 
 
 ' ... with your longc fyngres, 
 
 That yc han silke and scndal ' to sowe whan tymc is, 
 Chesiblcs for chapelleynes • cherches to honoure. 
 Wyves and wydwes * wolle and flex spynneth, 
 Maketh cloth. 1 conseille yow • and kenncth so yovvre 
 
 doughtres ; 
 The nedy and the naked • nymmeth (take) hede how hij 
 
 liggeth (be). (B. vi. lo.) 
 
 . ^ ... Save the wynnymges, 
 
 Amenden ?neson-dieux ther-vvith • and myseyse men fynde, 
 
 And wikkede weyes * with here good amende, 
 
 And brygges to-broke • by the heye weyes 
 
 Amende in som manere wise • and maydenes helpen ; 
 
 Poure puple bedredene • and prisones in stockes, 
 
 Fynde hem for Godes love '.and fauntekynes to scole ; 
 
 Releve religion • and renten hem bettere. 
 
 (C. X. 29.) 
 
'^•I> 
 
 
 K !<; 
 
THE WORLD. 119 
 
 soul of our poet ; he is the real hero of the work. 
 Bent over the soil, patient as the oxen that he goads, 
 he performs each day his sacred task ; the years pass 
 over his whitening head, and, from the dawn of life 
 to its twilight, he follows ceaselessly the same end- 
 less furrow, pursuing behind his plough his eternal 
 pilgrimage. 
 
 I wil worschip ther-with * Treuth, bi my lyve 
 
 And ben his pilgryme atte plowe • for pore mennes sake.^ 
 
 Around him the idle sleep, the careless sing ; 
 they pretend to cheer others by their humming ; 
 they trill : " Hoy ! troly lolly ! " Piers shall feed 
 everyone, except these useless ones ; he shall not 
 feed " Jakke the jogeloure and Jonet . . . and 
 Danyel the dys-playere and Denote the baude, and 
 frere the faytoure, ..." 2 for, all those whose name is 
 entered " in the legende of lif," 3 must take life 
 seriously. There is no place in this world for people 
 who are not earnest ; every class that is content to 
 perform its duties imperfectly and without sincerity, 
 that fulfils them without eagerness, without passion, 
 without pleasure, without striving to attain the best 
 possible result and do better than the preceding 
 generation, will perish. So much the more surely shall 
 perish the class that ceases to justify its privileges by its 
 
 " B. vi. 103. For a full description of Piers, see B. v. 544, and 
 the whole cf passus vi. 
 
 ^ B. vi. 71. The same sort of people were very troublesome 
 in France too. Jean-le-Bon expelled from Paris " telles gens 
 oiseux ou joueurs de des ou enchanteurs es rues ou truandeurs ou 
 mendians." January 30, 1350, Isambert, iv. p. 576. 
 
 3 C. xii. 206. 
 
I20 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 services : this is the great law brought forward in our 
 own day by Taine, Langland lets loose upon the 
 indolent, the careless, the busy-bodies who talk much 
 and work little, a foe more terrible and more real then 
 than now : Hunger.'^ Piers undertakes the care of all 
 sincere people, and Hunger looks after the rest. Hunger 
 recommends, however, that some allowance of food 
 be granted to everybody, to those " faitours " even 
 who might work if they chose, " bold beggeres and 
 bigge." 2 But the food must be so unpalatable 
 (" houndes bred and hors bred ") that they will prefer 
 work, and have an improvement in their diet : 
 
 And yf the gromcs grucchc • bid hem go swynke.3 
 
 This, says Hunger, is " a wysdome." The same 
 *' wysdome " has resulted since in the creation of 
 workhouses. The poet continues, examining problem 
 after problem ; laying down rules, foreshadowing 
 
 ' C, ix. 169. 
 
 - This passage, which is also to be found in B (vvrittcn in 
 J 376-7), must be compared to the protest of the Commons, in the 
 Good Parliament of 1376, against those "laboreres corores," who 
 *' devcnont mendinantz beggeres pur mesner ocious vie . . . et 
 bicn purroient eser la commune pur vivre sour lour labour et 
 service, si ils voudroicnt servir." " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. 
 p. 340. Cf. also "Romaunt of the Rose" (translation attributed 
 to Chaucer) : 
 
 No man, up peyne to be dedc, 
 Mighty of body, to begge his bredc, 
 If he may swynke it for to gete 
 Men shulde hym rather mayme or bete 
 Or done of hym apert justice 
 Than suffren hym in such malice. (1. 6619.) 
 3 C. ix. 227. 
 
THE WORLD. 12 t 
 
 reforms, showing himself harsh or merciful according 
 to the occasion. All this part of the Visions is mainly 
 an eloquent declaration of man's duties, 
 
 Langland is very hard on lawyers. He seems to 
 have frequented Westminster, which was, so to speak, 
 their capital ; he sees in them incorrigible adepts of 
 Lady Meed, who cannot say or write a word without 
 being paid : 
 
 Thow myght bet mete the myst • on Malverne hulles, 
 Than gete a mom (word) of hure mouth • til moneye be hem 
 shewid.^ 
 
 He admires the charity of the Jews toward each other, 
 which Christians would do well to imitate.- 
 
 The poet eulogises marriage at great length. There 
 seem to have been people, in the XlVth century, who 
 preferred rich girls to pretty ones, " thauh hue (they) 
 be loveliche to loken on." 3 Langland denounces this 
 inconceivable abuse. The gravity of his principles 
 does not prevent his worship of feminine beauty ; the 
 ill-assorted unions contracted by fortune-hunters pro- 
 duce " no children," but " foule wordes."4 What can 
 
 ' C. xi, 163, 
 
 - Alias ! that a Cristene creature ■ shal be unkynde til an other, 
 Sitthen Juwes that we jugge "Judas felawes, 
 Ayther of hem helpeth other • of that that hym nedeth. 
 
 (B. ix. 83.) 
 3 C. xi. 259. 
 
 + Many a peire sithen the pestilence • han plight hem togideres ; 
 The fruit that thei brynge forth ' aren foule wordes . . . 
 Have thei no children but cheste • and choppyng hem bitwene. 
 
 (B. ix. 164.) 
 
1 2 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 be said of those young men who marry, for their money, 
 old women 
 
 That nevcre shal barne here • but if it be in armes ? ' 
 
 And as for the illegitimate unions that have multiplied 
 in the general confusion resulting from the great plague, 
 it is far worse : the poet expects only evil from bastard 
 children ; most of the wretches with which the world 
 is pestered, were " false folke faithlees," 
 
 . . . out of wedloke, I trowe, 
 Conceyved ben in yvel time • as Caym was on Eve.^ 
 
 III. 
 
 While thus traversing the different social strata, 
 Langland sometimes halts for an instant, looks about 
 him, and tells us what he sees. He stops in the " Cour 
 des Miracles " where sham cripples " leyde here legges 
 aliri as such loseles conneth," or else disfigured them- 
 selves to simulate blindness : 
 
 Tho (then) were faitoures afcrde • and feyned hem blynde, 
 
 Somme leyde here legges aliri • as suche loseles conneth, 
 
 And made here mone to Pieres • and preyde hym of grace : 
 
 " For we have no lymcs to laboure with • lorde, y-graced be ye ! 
 
 Ac we preye for yow, Pieres • and for yowre plow bothc, 
 
 That God of his grace • yowre grayne multiplye, 
 
 And yelde yow of yowre almesse • that ye give us here; 
 
 For we may noughte swynke ne swete • suche sikeness us eyleth ! " 
 
 Piers muses and wonders : 
 
 "If it be soth,'' quod Pieres, "that ye seyne • I shal it sone 
 
 asspye ;" 3 
 
 and, with the help of Truth, he soon discovers in what 
 
 '^ B. ix, 163. == B. ix. 118. 3 B. vi. 123; see also C. x. 169. 
 
THE WORLD. 123 
 
 miraculous way they have been transformed, and got 
 their " legges aliri," 
 
 He seats himself by the hearth of the Plowman, and 
 looks into the stew-pot ; he rises and opens the larder. 
 Such misery ! and at the same time such resignation ! 
 What can Piers offer his guest ? 
 
 "I have no peny," quod Peres • "poletes for to bigge, 
 Ne neyther gees ne grys (pigs) " but two grene cheses, 
 A fewe cruddes and creem • and an haver cake. 
 And two loves of benes and bran • y-bake for my fauntis. 
 
 Were it " Lammas tyme " (August i) there would be : 
 
 hervest in my croft ; 
 And thanne may I dighte thi dyner • as me dere liketh. 
 
 The guest has therefore to be content with " benes and 
 baken apples," and " ripe chiries manye." ' 
 
 Langland, one winter evening, enters the hut of a 
 peasant " charged with children," crushed by the rent 
 owing to the landlord ; he sees the starving young ones, 
 the wife half-dead from fatigue, roused at night by the 
 cries of her last-born, and obliged to leave her pallet in 
 order to rock the cradle : 
 
 . . . Reuthe is to rede • othere in ryme shewe 
 The wo of these women • that wonyeth in cotes, 
 
 women whom, in spite of all their sufferings and those 
 of their husbands and little ones, nothing could induce 
 to beg ! Pity, cries the poet, have pity on these 
 wretches, 
 
 [That] bcth abasshed for to begge • and wolle nat be aknowe 
 What hem needeth at here neihebores. 
 
 ' B. vi. 282. 
 9 
 
1 24 PIERS FLO M^MAN. 
 
 No one had before shown so much pity, and such keen 
 human sympathy ; while turning the pages of the old 
 book, it is impossible not to find, to this very day, that, 
 as the poet himself said, " reuthe is to rede." ' 
 
 Langland rests, too, by the fireside of the rich, in 
 one of those castles where he sometimes dined at the 
 side-table, silent, observing everything, taking note of 
 his own feelings, ashamed to be there, only invited 
 because he sang psalms in his chantry for the departed 
 members of the family, playing, in fact, the hated part 
 of parasite. Around him are sudden bursts of joy, 
 there is deep drinking and loud talking ; the minstrels 
 tell the loves of the brave, accompanying themselves 
 with music ; or else they execute in the middle of the 
 hall absurd gambols and indecent contorsions.- When 
 they have become silent, conversations flow on at the 
 upper table, under the " dais " ; grave problems are 
 lightly treated ; between two tales the mystery of the 
 Holy Trinity is discussed. When they have eaten 
 their fill, they '* gnawen God ! " 
 
 Atte mete in her murthes ' whan mynstralles ben stille, 
 
 Thanne telleth thei of trinite * a tale other tweyne, 
 
 And bringen forth a balled (bald) resoun • and take Bernard to 
 
 witnesse, 
 And putten fort a presumpsioun • to preve the sothe. 
 Thus they dryvele at her deyse • the deite to knowe, 
 And gnawen God with the gorge • whan her gutte is fulle.3 
 
 In some houses, as luxury spreads, the lord and lady 
 refuse to dine in public, in the hall, where the dependents 
 of the family used to eat at the side-tables or even on the 
 
 ' C. X. 32. See the whole passage in Appendix, VIII. 
 2 B. xiii. 228. 3 B. X. s2. 
 
THE WORLD. 125 
 
 floor, ^ where the fire burned in the centre of the room, 
 and the smoke found vent, if so disposed, through a hole 
 in the roof.^ Now, the lord and lady retire to " pryve 
 parloure . . . or in a chambre with a chymneye," 3 and 
 there they hesitate still less to criticise the holy doctrines : 
 
 I have yherde hiegh men • etyng atte table, 
 
 Carpen as thei clerkes were • of Cryste and of his mightes . . . 
 
 " Whi wolde owre Saveoure suffre • suche a wormc in his blissc, 
 
 That bigyled the womman • and the man after ? . . . 
 
 Whi shulde we that now ben • for the werkes of Adam, 
 
 Roten and to-rende ? . . .+ 
 
 They live in comfort and content, and the presence 
 of the poor no longer offends their eyes ; the sight of 
 such unheard-of luxury fills the poet with apprehension. 
 Let us return, thinks he, to Piers Plowman ; those 
 satisfied and critical rich people are the danger of the 
 State ; Piers will be its safeguard. 
 
 ^ Right as sum man geve me mete • and sette me amydde the 
 flore, 
 Ich have mete more than ynough • ac nought so moche worship 
 As tho that seten atte syde-table • or with the sovereignes ot 
 
 the halle, 
 But sitte as a begger bordclees • bi my-self on the grounde. 
 
 (B. xii. 198.) 
 ^ A good example of this is the hall of Penshurst in Kent. 
 
 3 Elyng is the halle • uche daye in the wyke 
 
 There the lorde ne the lady • lyketh noiighte to sytte. 
 
 Now hath vche riche a reule • to eten bi hym-selve 
 
 In a pryve parloure * for pore mennes sake, 
 
 Or in a chambre with a chymneye • and leve the chief halle, 
 
 That was made for meles • men to eten inne . . . (B. x. 94.) 
 
 4 B. X. 1 01. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE CHURCH. 
 I. 
 
 THE life led by Langland on the confines of civil 
 and religious society allowed him to become well 
 acquainted with and pass judgments on both ; 
 and he did not fail to do it. 
 
 The special kind of curiosity that moves him has 
 been already noticed. Although attentive to what is 
 great, beautiful, and brilliant, he feels, at the same time^ 
 by a strange and rare combination, a curiosity for small^ 
 obscure, and dark things. Crevices, crannies, and 
 anfractuosities attract him ; parasitic plants, night-birds,, 
 things that creep in the shade or nestle in the hollows 
 of ancient walls, interest him ; he flashes his lantern 
 into crumbling vaults, and likes to dazzle with its 
 sudden light drowsy owls who thought themselves safe 
 and forgotten there. This same instinct which charac- 
 terised the Middle Ages, and caused the sculptor to 
 minutely carve the scarcely visible nooks and corners of 
 wainscots and friezes, key-stones, misericords of stalls, 
 directs Langland's pen. His poem abounds in satirical 
 vignettes ; the deep voice of the organ resounds through. 
 
THE CHURCH. 127 
 
 the nave ; but listen, and you will hear a sound, as of 
 laughter, in the indistinct murmur of the echoes. 
 
 Xangland scoffs, not at divine things, but at the 
 human element that mingles with them. In religious 
 as in civil matters, he attacks abuses, not institutions ; 
 he reveres the dogmas, and even respects most of the 
 observances. Here, again, the harshness of his words has 
 given rise to many erroneous opinions ; some have seen 
 in him a destroyer, like Wyclif ; others have even made 
 of him a Wyclifite. He only agrees, however, with his 
 famous contemporary in censuring excesses and abuses ; 
 but differs from him, inasmuch as he desires to alter 
 neither the dogmas nor the hierarchy of the Church. 
 He cannot be said to have ever praised Wyclif's " Poor 
 Priests." ^ In religious as in secular matters, Langland 
 
 ' And alle parfite preestes • to poverte sholde drawe. 
 
 C. xiv. 10c. I do not think it possible to see in this "an obvious 
 and interesting allusion to Wyclif's so-called poor priests " (Skeat's 
 Oxford edition, vol. ii. p. 175). The description that follows of the 
 sort of priests, for whom alone the favour of the ordination ought to 
 be reserved by bishops is very different from Wyclif's ideal. The 
 priests, besides, whom Langland here has in view, are secular priests, 
 performing normal duties in their parishes (who ought not to take 
 silver " for masses that [they] syngen "), not at all Wyclif's wan- 
 derers, who went about, preaching from village to village. Langland 
 hates all those who perform religious functions contrary to rule, 
 custom, and good order. The Commons hate them too, and say 
 (year 1382) : "Notorie chose est coment ya plusours [malveis] per- 
 sones deinz ledit roialme [qui,] alantz de countee en countee en 
 certains habitz souz dissimulacion de grant saintee et sanz licence 
 de Seint piere le pape ou des ordinairs des lieux . . . prechent . . . 
 diverses predicacions conteignantes heresyes et errours notoires.'' 
 They concern themselves also with temporal matters, " pur discord 
 et dissencion faire entre divers estatz dudit roialme." " Statutes of 
 the Realm," 5 Rich. IL, st. 2, ch. 5. 
 
128 FIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 sides, not with Wyclif, but, heart and soul, with the 
 Commons of England. 
 
 Like the Commons, he recognises the religious 
 authority of the Pope, but protests against the Pope's 
 encroachments, and against the interference of the 
 sov^ereign pontiff in temporal matters. The extension 
 assumed by the papal power in England appears to him 
 excessive ; like the Commons, he is in favour of the 
 statutes of " Provisors " and " Praemunire," and wishes 
 to have them maintained and renewed. Those persons 
 who get from the Pope presentations to benefices 
 before the death of the incumbe^its, and in violation of 
 the rights of the English patrons, inspire him with the 
 deepest scorn. We have seen that he represents " Sire 
 Symonye " saddling and bridling " palfreyswyse " one 
 of these creatures without a conscience, evidently con- 
 sidering him the fittest steed Symonye could use ; and 
 the hated one travels in this fashion, through the 
 kingdom, to Westminster. On questions of this kind, 
 Langland often agrees with Wyclif ; it will be usually 
 found that both share on these points the ideas of 
 Parliament. 
 
 Langland protests, with the Commons, against the 
 existence of a papal army, and against the wars in 
 which the sovereign pontiff has got entangled : 
 
 For were preest-hod more parfyt " that is, the pope formest, 
 
 That with moneye menteyneth men * to werren up-on cristine . . . 
 
 Hus prayers with hus pacience • to pees sholde brynge 
 
 Alle londes to love • and that in a litel tyme ; 
 
 The pope with alle preestes • pax vobis sholde make.^ 
 
 ^ C. xviii. 233. Same idea again B. xix. 426, \\o (C. xxii. 429, 
 446). 
 
THE CHURCH. 129 
 
 He is of opinion that the wealth of the Church is 
 hurtful to her : 
 
 Whenne Constantyn of hus cortesye • holykirke dowede 
 
 With londes and lecdes (tenements) " lordshepes and rentes. 
 
 An angel men hurde • an hih at Rome crye — 
 
 " Dos ecclesie this day • hath ydronken venym, 
 
 And tho that han Petres power ' aren poysoned alle." ' 
 
 According to him, the prelates should be purged of 
 such a poison. He openly calls upon the secular arm \. 
 to accomplish this : 
 
 Taketh here londes, ye lordes • and leet hem lyve by dymes, 
 Yf ye kynges coveyten • in Cristene pees to lyven.^ 
 
 And God amende the pope • that pileth holykirke. 
 And cleymeth bifor the kynge • to be keper over Crystene. 
 And counteth nought though Crystene • ben culled and robbed, 
 And fynt (provides) folke to fyghte * and Cristene blod to spille.3 
 
 The same idea was expressed by the Commons, when 
 they said : " Item, let it be remembered that there is 
 no man in the world, loving God and the Holy Church, 
 
 ' C. xviii. 220. 
 
 ^ C. xviii. 227. Wyclif agrees and promises no less a recom- 
 pense than heaven, to the lords who will perform this office : 
 " Thre thingis schulden move Lordis to compelle clerkis to this 
 holy lif of Cris and his apostlis. . . . Kingis and lordis schulden 
 witte that thei ben mynystris and vikeris of God to venge synne 
 and ponyschc mysdoeris. . . . Certis yif lordis don wel this office, 
 thei schuUen sikerly come to the blisse of hevene." " Select Eng- 
 lish Works," vol. iii. pp. 213, 214, 215. The same ideas were 
 current in France also ; the legists had popularised them long 
 before Langland and Wyclif wrote ; they are to be found again in 
 literary works, such as " Le Songe du Vergier," and others {temp. 
 Charles V.). 3 B. xix. 439, 
 
1 30 PIERS FLO WMAN. 
 
 the king and the kingdom of England, who has not 
 great cause for thought, sadness, and tears, because the 
 court of Rome, which ought to be the fountain, root, 
 and source of holiness, the destroyer of covetousness, ot 
 simony, and of other sins, has so subtly, piece by piece, 
 and more and more, as time goes, by sufferance and by 
 abet of wicked ones . . . drawn to itself the presenta- 
 tions to the bishoprics, dignities, and other benefices of 
 Holy Church in England." The Commons add still 
 more forcibly : " Be it again remembered that God has 
 committed his flock to the care of our Holy Father 
 the Pope, that they might be fed and not shorn ! " ' 
 
 The cardinals, legates of the Holy See, are also one 
 of the means through which this excessive power is 
 exercised. All those cardinals, who come to us from 
 the Pope, we have, " we clerkes," to pay for them, to 
 provide for their " pelure " and " palfreyes mete " ; we 
 have to entertain the robbers, " piloures," who follow 
 them. They give the example of disorderly life.- 
 
 ^ "It-em fait a penser qu'il n'y ad null homme de mounde qe 
 eyme Dieu et Seint Esglise, le roi et le roialme d'Engleterre qi 
 n'ad grante matiere de penser, de tristesse et de Icrmes, de ce qe la 
 cour de Rome, qi deust estre fontaigne, racyne et source de seinti- 
 tee et destruction de covetise, de symonie et des autres pecches, 
 ad si sotilement, de poi en poi et de plus en plus, par proccs du 
 temps, par soeffrance et par abbet des malveys . . . attret a lui les 
 collations des eveschiez, dignitez, provendrez et des autres benefices 
 de Seint Esglise en Angleterre. . . . Item fait a penser qe Dieux 
 ad commys ses ouwelles a Nostre Seint Pier le Papc a pastourer et 
 non pas a tounder." Year 1376, " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. 
 "• PP- 337, 338. 
 
 2 1 am a curatour of holykyrke * and come nevre in my tyme 
 Man to me, that me couthe telle • of cardinale vertues . , . 
 
THE CHURCH. 131 
 
 Those holy men ought to remain, all embalmed in their 
 holiness, at Avignon, the right place for them " amonge 
 the Juwes — be you saints among the saints ! " 
 
 Be verrey God, I wolde 
 That no cardynal come • amonge the comune peple, 
 But in her holynesse • holden hem stille 
 At Avynoun, amonge the Juwes • cum sancto smut us eris. 
 Or in Rome, as here rule wole " the reliques to kepe.' 
 
 As will be remembered, Avignon was a city of refuge 
 for Jews, and Langland shares the sentiments of the 
 Commons of the Good Parliament towards what they 
 do not hesitate to term " la peccherouse cite d'Avenon." 
 The bishops, who for their part did not care to have 
 quarrels with the " cite d'Avenon," were accordingly 
 very remiss, as Langland thought, in struggling against 
 the encroachments of the Pope in England ; whereupon 
 
 I knewe nevre cardynal • that he ne cam fro the pope, 
 And we clerkes whan they come • for her comunes payeth, 
 For her pelure and her palfreyes mete • and piloures that hem 
 
 folweth, 
 The comune clamat cotidie ' eche man to other : 
 " The contre is the curseder • that cardynales come inne ; 
 And there they ligge and lenge moste " lechcrye there regneth." 
 
 B. xix. 408. The "Collector" of the Pope was the subject of 
 much obloquy ; he lived splendidly in London, being, if any was, an 
 ^' emperoure bishop," to use Wyclif's word : "Item le dit collec- 
 tour est receivour des deniers du Pape et tient un grant hostel en 
 Loundres et clerks et officers, come ceo fuit droitement la receite 
 d'un Prince ou d'un Duk." Year 1376, "Rotuli Parliamen- 
 torum," vol. ii. p. 339. 
 
 ' B. xix. 417. On cardinals and on their power to elect tlie 
 Pope (" To han that power that Peter hadde inpugnen I nelle "), 
 see B. Prol. 109. 
 
1 3 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 he handles them with great severity ; and represents 
 them as clients of Lady Meed : 
 
 Heo (she) bicssede the bisschopes • though that thei ben lewed.' 
 
 in their turn, these unworthy prelates append their 
 seals to bulls and licences granting low wretches per- 
 mission to preach all over the country and to exhibit 
 false relics, which should never be done were the bishop 
 "worth both his eres." - The cleverest and most 
 ambitious among ecclesiastics are careful never to 
 remain with their flock in some distant county, and 
 never think to " shryven here paroschienes, prechen 
 and prey for hem " ; but they go to London, and there 
 live very happy ; 3 they aspire to and obtain public 
 flinctions, or sometimes private ones, not less pleasant 
 and remunerative. Masters and doctors become domesti- 
 cated : 
 
 Some serven the kyng • and his silver tellen, 
 In cheker and in chancerye * chalengen his dettes . . . 
 And some serven az servantz * lordes and ladyes, 
 And in stedc of stuwardes * syttcn and demen.4 
 
 While all this is going on, superstition flourishes ; 
 
 I A. iii. 144-. "" A. Prol. 75. 
 
 3 Bischopes and bachelers • bothe maistres and doctours, 
 
 That han cure under Criste • and crounyng (tonsure) in tokne 
 And signe thet thei sholden * shryven here paroschienes, 
 Prechen and prey tor hem " and the pore fede, 
 Liggen in London • in lenten an elles. (B. Prol. 87.) 
 
 4 B. Prol. 92. This is one of the cases in which Langland, 
 the Commons, and Wyclif all agree. Wyclif denounces "our 
 bischopis that pressen to be chaunseller and tresorers and govern- 
 ours of alle worldly offices in the rewme." " Select English 
 Works," Arnold, vol. ii. p. 281 ; vol. iii. p. 335. 
 
THE CHURCH. 133 
 
 the flock, for whom nobody cares, run to see false 
 miracles, and place all their trust in candles, " much 
 wex " ; in offerings, " ontrewe sacrifice," made on ac- 
 count of sham relics : 
 
 . . . Ydolatrie ye sofFren • in sondrye places menye, 
 And boxes ben broght forth • i-bounden with yre. 
 To under-take the tol • of ontrewe sacrifice. 
 In menyng of miracles ' much wex ther hangeth.' 
 
 On all these points, Langland agrees with the Com- 
 mons, who complain of the same disorders. The 
 Parliament demands, as does the poet, that the king 
 should only have laymen, " lays gentz," for his 
 ministers, and that " no other persons but laymen be 
 hereafter made chancellor, treasurer, clerk of the privy 
 seal, baron of the exchequer, comptroller, or appointed 
 to any of the great ojffices and governorships of the 
 kingdom." - The king, in his answer, promises 
 nothing ; he will " advise " with his council, that is, 
 he means to continue acting as heretofore. 
 
 The appointment of unworthy bishops, by favour of 
 Lady Meed, and the indifi^erence they feel concerning 
 the salvation of their parishioners, are thus commented 
 upon by the Commons: formerly, "bishoprics, as well as 
 other benefices of Holy Church, used to be, after true 
 elections, in accordance with saintly considerations and 
 pure charity, assigned to people found to be worthy 
 
 ' C. i. 96. On false miracles, see " English Wayfaring Life," 
 pp. 340 et seq. 
 
 - " Que nulles autres persones soient desoreenavant faitz chan- 
 celler, tresorier, clerk du prive seal, barouns de I'escheqer, countre- 
 rollour et touz autres grantz officers et governours du roialme." 
 Year 1371, 45 Ed. HI., "Rotuli Parliaraentorum," vol ii. p. 304. 
 
134 FIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 of clerical promotion, men of clean life and holy 
 behaviour, whose intention it was to stay on their 
 benefices, there to preach, visit and shrive their 
 parishioners, and spend the goods of Holy Church 
 in works of charity." ^ 
 
 This is, word for word, what Langland says. Most 
 of the evils in the kingdom, wars, pestilences, &c., 
 are owing to the fact that Simony now reigns, and 
 Lady Meed triumphs. " And as long as these good 
 customs were observed," the Commons continue, " the 
 kingdom was filled with all kinds of prosperity, such as 
 good people, and loyal clerks and clergy, knights and 
 chivalry, which are things that always go together, peace, 
 and quiet, treasure, wheat, cattle, and other riches. And 
 since the good customs have become perverted into the 
 sin of covetousness and simony, the kingdom has been 
 full of divers adversities, such as wars and pestilences, 
 famine, murrain of cattle, and other grievances."- 
 
 Whereas benefices should be given " graciously, out 
 of pure charity, without price and without payment," 
 they are for sale, and, owing to the example of Rome, 
 
 ^ In former times, "si soloient les eveschcs [par] verreye 
 election, et les autres benefices de Seint Esglise, par seint con- 
 sideration et pure charitc, sanz scrupule de covetyse ou de symonie, 
 estre done as gentz plus dignez de clergie, de nette vie et de seinte 
 conversation qe pont estre trovez, qe voloient demurer sur lour 
 benefices, precher, visiter et confesser lour parochiens, et despendre 
 les biens de Seinte Esglise ... en overez de charitc." 
 
 2 Good Parliament of 1376. *' Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. 
 p. 337. Cf. J^angland : 
 
 And tho was plente and pees " amonges pore and riche . . . 
 And now is werre and wo. 
 
 (B. XV. 500, 504.) 
 
THE CHURCH. 135 
 
 lay patrons require now to be paid in their turn. The 
 result of these evil practices is precisely that pointed 
 out by the poet. " And thus, by means of simony and 
 barter," the Commons say, " a sorry fellow who knows 
 nothing of what he ought (" though that thei ben 
 lewed," wrote Langland) and is worthless, will be ad- 
 vanced to parishes and prebends of the value of a 
 thousand marcs, when a doctor of decree and a master 
 of divinity will be only too glad to secure some little 
 benefice of the value of twenty marcs." And thus 
 " dwindles Clergye towards nothingness." ^ 
 
 What good can one expect, thinks Langland, of these 
 favourites of Lady Meed.^ In what do they resemble 
 Christ their model, and the saints who imitated Him.^ 
 Christ suffered and died, 
 
 And baptised and bishoped • with the blode of his herte.^ 
 
 Since then, many saints have suffered for the faith, in 
 India and Egypt, and Armenia or Spain. St. Thomas 
 of Canterbury died a cruel death for the love of Christ 
 and for the rights also of this kingdom : 
 
 For Cristes love he deyede, 
 And for the right of al this reume.3 
 
 Our prelates nowadays have ceased to thirst for 
 martyrdom ; and bishops of Bethlehem and Babylon 
 
 ' " Et tout ensy, par voye de symonie et de brocage, un cheitif, 
 qe null bien ne sciet et riens ne vaut serra avances as Esglises et 
 provendres a la value de mill marcz, par la un Doctour de Deere 
 et un meistre de divinite serra lee d'aver un petit benefice de xx 
 marcz." And thus goes Clergye " en declyn et a nient." Same 
 Parliament of 1376, " Rotuli," vol. ii. p. 338. 
 
 2 B. XV. 545. 3 B. XV. 552. 
 
136 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 are seen amongst us ; they do not go to Syria, but 
 stay in England. 
 
 The whole ecclesiastical hierarchy, though he is in 
 favour of maintaining it, is severely handled by Lang- 
 land. Chaucer has presented to us the picture of the 
 good parson, devoted to his parishioners, treading the 
 muddy paths in winter to go and visit the humblest 
 cottages. Langland prefers to show us the other side 
 of the canvas, and there he draws several portraits of 
 the hunting parson, lazy, jovial, hard drinking ; a great 
 teller of tales, who knows by heart all the songs of 
 Robin Hood and the gest of Randal, earl of Chester, 
 who has taken unto himself a female companion and 
 enlivened his fireside with a few bastards. ^ 
 
 This worthy man enjoys sitting at table with other 
 choice spirits, quaffing ale and laughing at improper 
 stories. He rises so late that he gets to church only in 
 time to hear " Ite missa est " ; he can " neither solfe 
 ne synge " : he is incapable of interpreting the least 
 
 ' Lady Meed 
 Provendreth persones • and prestes meynteneth, 
 To have lemmanes and lotebies* alle here lif-dayes, 
 And bringen forth barnes • agcin forbode lawes. 
 B. iv. 149. To the same intent again, the Commons ask that 
 benefices be withdrawn from "gentz de Seint Esglise, bcneficez et 
 curats qe tiegnent lour concubines par certein temps overtement." 
 Year 1372, " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 314. Compare, 
 in the "Romaunt of the Rose," the description of 
 . . . these that haunt symonye, 
 Or provost fullc of trecherie, 
 Or prelat lyvyng jolily, 
 Or prest that halt his quene hym by. 
 (Line 7021.) Translation, attributed to Chaucer, in Morris's 
 edition of Chaucer's Works, vol. vi. 
 
THE CHURCH. 137 
 
 passage of Scripture for his parishioners ; but there lives 
 not his like for finding a hare sitting. If he mutters a 
 few prayers, his thoughts are far away : 
 
 That I telle with my tonge • is two myle fro myne herte/ 
 
 This is the result of the recruiting of the clergy to 
 which the bishops lend themselves : 
 
 For made nevere kynge no knyghte * but he hadde catel to 
 
 spende 
 As bifel for a knighte . , . 
 
 The bisshop shal be blamed • bifor God, as I leve, 
 That crouneth suche Goddes knightes ■ that conneth nought 
 
 sapienter 
 Synge, ne psalmes rede • ne segge a messe of the day.^ 
 
 II. 
 
 The regular clergy are treated with less severity by 
 the poet. Wrath penetrates into their midst, but is so 
 badly received that he hastens to depart, seeing that if 
 he tells the least tale he is sentenced to fast upon 
 bread and water, or else he has to appear in the chapter- 
 house, there to receive a whipping on his breechless 
 skin, " as I a childe were." Therefore he has decided 
 to go, having no liking for their unpalatable fishes 
 *' and fieble ale drynke." 3 
 
 ^ B. V. 400 et seq. See complete text in Appendix, VII. 
 
 2 B. xi. 285, 303. 
 
 3 And if I telle any tales • thei taken hem togyderes, 
 And do me faste frydayes • to bred and to water, 
 
 And am chalanged in the chapitel hous • as I a childe were, 
 And baleised on the bare . . . • and no breche bitwene ; 
 For-thi have I no lykyng * with tho leodes to wonye. 
 I ete there unthende fisshe • and fieble ale drynke. 
 
 (B. V. 172.) 
 
138 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 Wrath's chastisement was that of offending monks ; 
 they were flogged before the central-column found in 
 many of the chapter-houses of England. The same 
 personage had likewise paid a visit to a nunnery, but 
 with better success. There his gossipings take effect. 
 He goes retailing to one and another the most un- 
 becoming slanders : 
 
 [I] made hem joutes of jangelynge ' • that dame Johanne was a 
 
 bastard 
 And dame Clar)xe a knightes doughter • ac a kokewoldc was 
 
 hire syre. 
 And dame Peronelle a prestes file • priouresse worth she nevcre, 
 For she had childe in chirityme "^ • al owre chapitcre it wiste. 
 Of wykked wordes, I, Wrath • here wortes 3 i-made, 
 Til " thow lixte " and " thow lixte " • lopen oute at ones, 
 And eyther hitte other • under the cheke ; 
 Hadde thei hadde knyvcs, bi Cryst • her eyther had kylled other. 4 
 
 Though comparatively lenient to monks, Langland 
 copies from them some of the traits he employs to 
 draw the image of new-fangled " Religioun " ; in his 
 verses Religioun resembles the hunting and jovial 
 monk in the Canterbury Tales : " Ac now," says he, 
 
 Ac now is Religioun a ryder" a rowmcr bi stretes. . . . 
 A priker on a palfray • fro manere to manere, 
 
 ^ Pottages of scandals. 
 ^ Cherry- time. 
 
 3 Vegetables ; I made for them dishes of wicked words. 
 
 4 B. V. 158. Compare the misdeeds of " Fals-Semblant " and 
 his peers in the " Romaunt of the Rose " : 
 
 Thus from his ladder we hym take, 
 And thus his frecndis foes we make, 
 . But word ne wite shal he noon, 
 Tille alle hise frcendis ben his foon. (line 6939.) 
 
THE CHURCH. 139 
 
 An heep oi houndes . . . • as he a lorde were, 
 And but if his knave knele • that shal his cuppe brynge, 
 He loureth (frowns) on hym and axeth hym • who taughte him 
 curteisye ? ' 
 
 And Langland is careful to note that he has in view 
 here " bothe monkes and chanouns." - In a similar 
 fashion Chaucer's monk was : 
 
 An out-ryderejthat lovcde venerye . . . 
 Greyhoundes he hadde as swiftc as fowel in flight ; 
 Of prikyng and of huntyng for the hare 
 Was al his lust.-^ 
 
 4-But, in his heart, the poet has no hate for monks, 
 and when he has converted his lazy one, " Sleuthe," he 
 makes him resolve to lead a better life, as if he " a 
 monke were " r^, 
 
 Shal no Sondaye be this sevene yere ' bat sykenesse it Icttc 
 
 (prevent), 
 That I ne shal do (betake) me er day • to the derc cherche, 
 And heren matincs and masse • as I a monke were.-* 
 
 Langland doubtless remembered, with heartfelt emo- 
 tion, the time he had passed at Malvern, taught by 
 monks, in the precincts of the convent founded by old 
 Aldwin ; and the edge of his severity was taken off. 
 We have seen elsewhere the touching picture he traces 
 
 ' B. X. 306. Compare, in the " Romaunt of the Rose," the 
 description ot those who 
 
 . . . willen that folk hem lout and grete 
 Whanne that they passen thurgh the strete. 
 And wolcn be cleped Maister also, (line 6919.) 
 
 2 C. vi. 157. 3 Prologue, 166. * B v. 458. 
 
 10 
 
T 40 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 of the studious and tranquil existence Jed in the 
 cloister by men of good will.^ 
 
 III. 
 
 Let us go down a i^\N steps, and we reach the strange, 
 grimacing, unpardonable herd of lyers, knaves, and 
 cheats, who traffic in holy things, absolve for money, 
 sell heaven, deceive the simple, and appear as though 
 they " hadden leve to lye al here lyf after." In the 
 nethermost circle of his hell, where he scourges them 
 with incessant raillery, the poet confines pell-mell all 
 these glutted unbelievers. Like hardy parasitical plants, 
 they have disjoined the tiles and stones of the sacred 
 edifice, so that the wind steals in, and the rain pene- 
 trates ; shameless pardoners they are, friars, pilgrims, 
 hermits, with nothing of the saint about them save 
 the garb, whose example, unless a stop is put to it, 
 will teach the world to despise the clerical dress, 
 those who wear it, and the religion even, that tolerates 
 and supports them. 
 
 At this depth, and in the dim recesses where he 
 casts the rays of his lantern, Langland spares none ; 
 his ferocious laugh is reverberated by the walls, and 
 the scared night-birds take flight. His mirth is not 
 the mirth of Chaucer, itself less light than the mirth 
 of France ; not the joyous peal of laughter which rang 
 out on the Canterbury road, welcoming the discourses 
 of the exhibitor of relics, and the far from disinterested 
 sermons of the friar to sick Thomas ; it is a woeful 
 and terrible laugh, harbinger of the final catastrophe 
 ' B. X. 300. Sec supra, p. 84. 
 
THE CHURCH. 141 
 
 and judgment. What they have heai-d in the plain of 
 Malvern, the accused ones will hear again in the valley 
 of Jehoshaphat. 
 
 They have now no choice, but must come out of 
 their holes ; and they come forward into the light of 
 day, hideous and grotesque, saturated with the moist- 
 ure of their dismal vaults ; the sun blinds them, 
 the fresh air makes them giddy. They present a 
 sorry figure. Unlike the pilgrims of Canterbury, 
 they derive no benefit from the feelings of indul- 
 gence that softens our hearts on a gay April morn. 
 They will learn to know the difference between the 
 laugh that pardons and the laugh that kills. Lang- 
 land takes them up, lets them fall, and takes them 
 up again ; he never wearies of this cruel sport ; he 
 presents them to us now separately, and now collec- 
 tively : packs of pilgrims, " eremytes on an hep," 
 pilgrims that run to St. James in Spain, to Rome, to 
 Rocamadour in Guyenne, who have paid visits to 
 every saint. ^ But have they ever sought for St. 
 Truth } 2 No, never ! Will they ever know the real 
 place where they might find St. James .^ Will they 
 suspect that St. James should " be sought ther poure 
 syke lyggen (lie), in prisons and in poore cotes .^ . . .''3 
 They seek St. James in Spain, and St. James is at their 
 gates ; they elbow him each day, and they recognise 
 him not. 
 
 ' B Prol. 46, xii. 37. 
 
 - And ye that scke scynte James ■ and scintcs of Rome, 
 Seketh Seynt Treuthe ' for he may save yow alle. 
 
 (B. V. 57.) 
 3 C. V. 122. 
 
142 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 The poet passes on to others, then comes back to 
 them, he strikes again in the same place until the lash 
 cuts their skin ; their words, their dress, their stories, all 
 seem to him equally hideous ; he turns them about, 
 that they may be well seen, with their wallet by their 
 side and " an hundredth of ampiilles " on their hats, 
 " signes of Synay and shelles of Galice," and " keyes of 
 Rome" and also "the vernicle bifore " : for "men 
 shulde knowe and se be his signes " where he has 
 been,' Whence have you just come? 
 
 " Fram Synay " he seyde " " and fram owre lordes sepulcrc ; 
 In Bcthlecm and in Babiloync " I have ben in bothe, 
 In Ermonyc, in Alisaundrc • in many other places. 
 Ye may se bi my signes • that sitten on my hatte, 
 That I have walked ful wyde " in wete and in drye, 
 And soughte gode seyntcs " for my soules helth." 
 Knowestow oughte a corseint ' that men calle Treuthe? 
 Coudestow aughte wissen (teach) us the weye " where that wy 
 
 (being) dwelleth ? 
 " Nay, so me God helpe ! " - 
 
 ' B. V. 527. The same customs are described by Garnicr de 
 Pont-Sainte-Maxence in his poem on Thomas Becket (Xllth 
 century). Crosses are worn as signs that the wearer has been at 
 Jerusalem ; a leaden image of the Virgin means that a pilgrimage 
 has been made to Rocamadour ; a leaden shell, to St. James of 
 Spain ; an ampul, to St. Thomas of Canterbury : 
 
 Mes de Jerusalem en est la croiz portce 
 Et de Rochemadur Marie en plum getee, 
 De saint Jame la scale, qui est en plum muce. 
 Or a Deus saint Thomas cele ampule donee 
 Qui est par tut le mund cherie et honorec. 
 
 *' La Vic de Saint Thomas Ic Martyr," ed. Hippeau, Paris, 1859, 
 8vo, p. 204. - B. V. ^33. 
 
THE CHURCH. 143 
 
 iThe poet will likewise speak his mind to those packs 
 of hermits, sturdy fellows who might work if they 
 chose, but do not choose, who swarm about that great 
 resort of pilgrims, Walsingham, and look very holy 
 with their staff, and live quite merrily with their 
 wench : 
 
 Heremites on an heep • with hoked staves, 
 Wenten to Walsyngham • and here wenches after ; 
 Grete lobyes and longc ■ that loth were to swynke.' 
 
 The fear of work is the principal tenet in their 
 creed ; other dogmas are of little import to them ; 
 they have rid their brains and heart of all such use- 
 less beliefs. They bear little resemblance to the real 
 hermits of old, who were samts, who ate only once a 
 day, and lived " whilom in wodes, with beres and 
 lyones," and were miraculously fed by birds^ 
 
 Langland, with all his doubts, has many simple 
 beliefs, and the " Golden Legend " of the Bishop of 
 Genoa, James of Voragine, inspires him with absolute 
 faith. One particular story in the legend he has now 
 in his mind. Such naive tales abound in the good 
 bishop's work : for, "simple as a Christian nursed on 
 the legend of Assisi, James believed in the familiar 
 intercourse of wild beasts with holy men ; in the wolf 
 that conducted Anthony to the cell of St. Paul the 
 hermit ; in the crow that brought that day a double 
 
 ^ B. Prol. 53. 
 
 ^ Ac ancres ac heremytes " that eten nought but at nones . . . 
 
 That woncd whilom in wodes ■ with beres and lyones . . . 
 
 And bryddes broughten to some bred * wherby thei lyvxden. 
 
 (B. vi. 147 ; C. X. 196, 200.) 
 
144 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 ration of fruit and bread to the two anchorets ; in the 
 two lions who, on the evening of that very day, piously 
 presented themselves in order to dig the grave of Paul, 
 and when he was buried, retired again into the woods. "^ 
 But nowadays, says Langland, our hermits no longer 
 wait for the birds to come ; they themselves, wise 
 and cautious, attend with great care upon their own 
 persons ; they are well fed and clothed ; they look 
 as holy as can be ; they sit " at even by the bote 
 coles," and take a comfortable posture to warm them- 
 selves through and through ; they " unlock their legs 
 abroad " and stretch themselves at their ease. The 
 good man '* reste hym and roste hym," and when he 
 has sufficiently roasted one side, now roasts the other 
 "and his ryg (back) turn," legs always unlocked. 
 Which duty being performed and accomplished, he 
 takes a drink " drue and deepe, and drawe hym thanne 
 to bedde." The night is spent in sweet repose ; no 
 matin bells will wake him ; still he will wake, but he 
 will not rise till he feels quite certain that " hym lyketh 
 and lust." When on his feet, he will make plans for 
 the day, and consider 
 
 Whar he may rathest have a repast • other a rounde of bacon, 
 Sulver other sode mete * and som tyme bothe, 
 A loof other half a Inof • other a lompe of chese ; 
 And carieth it horn to hiis cote. 
 
 *' Le pauvre homme ! " Orgon would say. These 
 men live " by the heye weyes," where pass many people. 
 Woodland solitudes have no allurements for them, 
 neither has mass ; but eating-places have. Wherever 
 
 I Gebhart, " I'ltalie Mystique," Paris, 1893, 8vo, p. 278. 
 
f K 
 
THE CHURCH. 145 
 
 people eat, there you are sure to meet them : " at 
 mydday meel-tyme, ich mete with hem ofte." Now 
 the hermit is dressed " in a cope, as he a clerke were," 
 
 And for the clothe that kcvereth hym • cald is he a frere. 
 
 But what are they, to be so well treated ? What are 
 they, but bondmen unwilling to work? They have 
 commenced by being " workmen, webbes and taillours, 
 and carters knaves ; " what a hardship it was to work 
 thus ! They were lean and lank, and felt tired. They 
 had " long labour and lyte wynnynge." But on a 
 lucky day they discovered that it was possible to have 
 no labour and great " wynnynge," and noticed that 
 good-for-nothing friars " hadde fatte chekus," They 
 aspired to the glory of having similar cheeks ; they 
 did so, with no little amount of success. The change 
 was complete : when the fellow won his " mete with 
 treuthe," 
 
 He sat atte sydbcnchc * and secounde table ; 
 
 Cam no wyn in hus wombe ' thorw the weke longe, 
 
 Nother blankett in hus bed • ne white bred by-fore hym. 
 
 All is altered now that he has taken the dress of 
 *' som ordre " and looks " a prophete." Unknown 
 luxuries are at present familiar to him, he 
 
 Wassheth and wypeth ■ and with the furste sitteth. 
 
 The cause " of al thys caitifte," 
 
 Cometh of meny bisshopes. 
 That sufFren suche sottes ' and othere synnes regne . . . 
 For meny waker (watchful) wolves • ben broke in-to foldes ; 
 
146 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 Thyne berkeres (barkers) ben al blynde " that bryngen forth 
 
 thy lambren, 
 Dispergefitur oz'cs ' thi dogge dar nat berkc.^ 
 
 The pardoners scoffed at by Boccaccio and Chaucer, 
 figure here on the same level with the false hermits ; 
 they poison the kingdom with their sham relics, with 
 their papal bulls adorned with seals fabricated by 
 themselves, with their impostures and lies ; they drive 
 bargains, and retail heaven to their customers. They 
 seek for villages as yet unexplored by their kind, where 
 numerous unatoned-for sins will bring them large sums. 
 A minute comedy, four lines long, each trait sharpened 
 by the cruel humorous wit of the poet, shows better 
 than long descriptions what these people were. Piers 
 Plowman describes to men of good will the wonderful 
 land of Truth : 
 
 " Bi seynt Poule," quod a pardonere " "peraventure I be 
 noughte knowe there, 
 
 ^ C. X. 1 88 et seq. See Appendix, IX. The resemblance 
 with the '' Romaunt of the Rose " is here very marked. " Fals- 
 Semblant" loq. : 
 
 I love noon hermitage more ; 
 
 Alle desertes and holtes (woods) hore 
 
 And grete wodes everichon, 
 
 I let hem to the Baptist John. 
 
 I quethe hym quyte, and hym relese 
 
 Of Egipt alle the wildirnesse ; 
 
 To ferre were all my mansiouns 
 
 Fro citees and goode tounes. 
 
 My paleis and myn hous make I, 
 
 There men may renne ynne openly, 
 
 And sey that I the world forsake. (1. 6987.) 
 
THE CHURCH. 147 
 
 I will go fccche my box with my brcvcttcs " and a bullc with 
 
 bisshopes Icttres ! " 
 "By Cryst," quod a comuiic womman • " thi companyc will 
 
 I folwc, 
 Thow shalt sey I am thi sustrc' — I nc wot where they bicome."^ 
 
 What has become of then* intended companions ? 
 Pardoner and " comune " woman turn round : Piers 
 and his troop have vanished. 
 
 All have not Piers's wisdom. It is exceedingly 
 tempting to buy one's way out of purgatory with 
 money, especially when one has a good deal of it and 
 no longer knows what to do with it, being at the point 
 of death. Rich people rarely fail to act thus. Let 
 them beware ; when the dreadful hour comes, if they 
 exhibit "a poke-ful of pardon" and letters of " fra- 
 ternete " and " indulgences double-folde," little will they 
 gain by that, if Dowel does not help them. Mind this, 
 
 ... Ye maistres • mayres and jugges, 
 That han the welthe of this worlde • and tor wyse men ben 
 
 holden, 
 To purchase yow pardoun • and the popis bulles. 
 At the dredful dome • whan dede shullen rise, 
 And comen alle bifor Cryst • acountis to yelde . . . 
 A poke-ful of pardoun there " ne provinciales lettres, 
 Theigh ye be founde in the fratcrnete" of alle the foure ordres, 
 And have indulgences double-folde • but if Dowel yow help, 
 I sette yowre patentes and yowre pardounz ' at one pies hele ! ^ 
 
 ' B. V. 648. 
 
 ^ /.<?., at nought. B. vii. 184. For more particulars concerning 
 pardoners, see " English Wayfaring Life," iii. 2. They were 
 suppressed only in the XVIth century by the twenty-first session 
 of the Council of Trent, July 16, 1562, considering that " de 
 eorum emendatione nulla spes amplius relicta videatur. " 
 
148 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 )s.The friars, being more numerous, more insinuating, 
 and of a higher origin, are even more dangerous. The 
 holiness of their founder serves as a passport. " Charite " 
 once lived among them, but this happened long ago, in 
 the day of St. Francis : 
 
 And in a freres frokke • he was yfounde ones, 
 Ac it is terrc agoo • in seynt Fraunceys tyme.^ 
 
 Now they are everywhere welcome, and having de- 
 generated from their ancient virtues, they act as a 
 dissolvent wherever they penetrate, they disorganise 
 the hierarchy and divide the flock. They laugh at 
 the bishops, curates, and all the religious body. While 
 the powers of the secular priests are limited to their 
 own parish, those of the friars are universal. The 
 friars go everywhere, confessing, begging, pocketing, 
 growing fat.- ;-They preach communism to the poor ; 
 they have followed, and now they spread, the teaching 
 of Envy : 
 
 Envye herd this • and hcet (bade) freres go to scole, 
 And lerne logyk and lavve • and eke contemplacioun. 
 And preche men of Plato • and preve it by Seneca 
 That alle thinges under hevene ' oughte to ben in comune. 
 And yit he lyeth, as I leve • that to the lewed so precheth, 
 For God made to men a lawe • and Moyses it taughte, 
 No?! concupisces rem proxmi tui. 3 
 
 ^ B. XV. 225. 
 
 - B. Prol. 58; xi. 64, 76; xiii. 6, &c. Similar complaints in 
 Wyclif : Good people must confess to their parish priest, not to 
 friars ("Select English Works," vol. ii. p. 374); cloisters and churches 
 are raised by friars "as hit were castels " (vol. iii. p. 380) ; they 
 become confessors of lords and ladies, seek for invitations at their 
 table, and neglect the poor (vol. iii. p. 396, &c.). 
 
 3 B. XX. 271. They receive Antichrist (B. xx. 57) ; it must be 
 
THE CHURCH. 149 
 
 Founded to give an example of disinterestedness and 
 poverty, they become rich and proud ; they greatly 
 differ from those early followers of Christ who, according 
 to the " Romaunt of the Rose " and to the Visions of 
 Langland, "neither bilden tour ne halle ;"i they cause 
 their patrons to bear witness publicly to their merits, 
 " to witnesse," said Jean de Meun, who expressed on 
 this question the same ideas as our visionary, 
 
 our bounte, 
 So that man weneth, that may us see. 
 That all vertu in us be. 
 And al-wey pore we us feyne ; 
 But how-so that we begge or pleyne, 
 We ben the folk, withoute lesyng, 
 That alle thing have without havyng.- 
 
 They strive to make life easy for the great ; " pleasaunt 
 was his absolucioun," says Chaucer of his friar ; they 
 make it especially pleasant to people of high rank ; 
 they are " chief to shryve lordes," observes Langland, 
 and here again his description resembles, on several 
 
 acknowledged, however, that everybody does the same, monks and 
 all ; the monks ring their bells in his honour : 
 
 Freres folwed that fende • for he gaf hem copes, 
 And religiouse reverenced hym • and rongen here belles, 
 And al the covent forth cam " to welcome that tyraunt. (Ibid.) 
 ' "Romaunt," 1. 6573, 
 ^ Ibid., 1. 6960 ; again, 1. 6969 : 
 
 I dele with no wight, but he 
 Have gold and tresour gret plente, 
 Compare the complaints of Langland, 
 
 . . . how that freris folwed " folke that was riche. 
 And folke that was pore • at litel prys thei sette. 
 
 (B. xiii. 7.) 
 
1 50 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 points, the picture in the " Romaunt of the Rose." 
 " Where fyndest thou," Jean de Meun wrote, 
 
 a swvynker of labour 
 Have me unto his confessour ? 
 But emperesses and duchesses, 
 Thise queenes and eke countesses, 
 Thise abbessis and eke bygyns, 
 These grete ladyes palasyns (palatial), 
 These joly knightis and baillyves, 
 Thise nonnes and thise burgeis wvves, 
 That riche ben and eke plesyng. 
 And thise maidens welfaryng, 
 Wher-so they clad or naked be, 
 Uncounceiled goth ther noon fro mc . . , 
 And make hem trowe, bothe meest and leest 
 Hir paroche prest nyst but a bccst/ 
 
 A sight it is, and worth seeing, the scene between 
 Langland's friar and the beautiful Lady Meed, that good- 
 natured maid, of handsome appearance, who makes her- 
 self all things to all men, and gives and receives whatever 
 you please. No one pays attention to the virtuous 
 women who bestow all their care and time on the 
 poor. Lady Meed does good, as she does everything 
 else, in an elegant manner, and she is rewarded in the 
 same way. No need for her to ask that her name be 
 inscribed on the walls of the church ; it will be found 
 there without her asking ; we shall see it graven on the 
 flagstones, sculptured on the pillars, blazoned on the 
 stained glass of the windows; wherever she goes, she 
 finds herself at home ; the first place is ready for her ; 
 she sits all glittering and spreads herself out ; however 
 dense the crowd, there is elbow room for her ; she looks 
 
 ' "Romaunt," line 6859. 
 
THE CHURCH. 
 
 151 
 
 happy, there is a light around her, a heaven under her 
 feet. Certain sins seem charming to her ; she says so, 
 good-naturedly, with such a pleasant smile that the sins 
 themselves appear good-natured sins. She will not 
 forsake them ; why should she ? she has the choice, 
 and chooses rather to repaint the church. A most 
 proper device ! the chorus of friars say ; it is as 
 well as could be wished. Sure is thy soul " hevene 
 to have." ^ 
 
 '7'^'vL\v.^> 
 
 THE CONFESSION OF LADY MEED. 
 
 (From a .VS. in the Bodleian Lihraiy.) 
 
 The tiles give way, the stones disjoin, God's temple 
 is threatened with ruin, a ruin that Lady Meed will 
 not repair. Woe ! cries Langland, woe to the ungodly, 
 to miscreants, to evildoers! but woe, also, to the foolish, 
 to the superficial, to all those who fail to do good, 
 and who think to purchase for their own benefit the 
 merits of others ; woe to the sellers and to the buyers ! 
 Nothing, NOTHING, can compensate for neglect of duty, 
 no stained glass, no money, no pardons. True women 
 
 ' B. iii. 35. Sec Appendix, IV. 
 
1 5 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 of pure lives do not behold their names on the walls of 
 churches ; it is graven in a worthier place, in the hearts 
 of the poor, who will one day raise their hands in 
 supplication to heaven and pour out prayers, which will 
 assuredly be heard. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 
 
 I. 
 
 ALL Langland's art and all his teaching can be 
 summed up in one word : sincerity. He speaks, 
 as he thinks, impetuously, recking little of the 
 consequences of his words either for himself or for 
 others ; they flow in a burning stream, and could no 
 more be checked than the lava of Vesuvius. At 
 moments the crater seems extinguished, and the rum- 
 blings of the tempest subside to a murmur. But storm 
 and calm are both beyond human control ; Langland's 
 violence and gentleness depend on internal forces over 
 which he has no power ; a sort of dual personality 
 exists in him ; he is the victim, not the master, of his 
 thought ; and his thought is so completely a separate 
 entity, with wishes opposed to his desires, that it 
 appears to him in the solitude of Malvern ; and the 
 melody of lines heard not long ago, recurs to our 
 memory : 
 
 Jc marchais an jour a pas Icnts 
 Dans un bois, sur une briiyerc ; 
 
 'S3 
 
1 5 4 PIERS PL O IVMAN: 
 
 Au pied d'un arbrc vint s'asseoir 
 
 Un jeiine homme vetu de noir 
 
 Qui me ressemblait comme un frere. . . . 
 
 Partout ou, sans cesse altere 
 
 De la soif d'un monde ignortf, 
 
 J'ai suivi I'ombre de mes songes ; 
 
 Partout ou, sans avoir vecu, 
 
 J'ai revu ce que j'avais vu, 
 
 La face humainc et ses mensonges. . . . 
 
 Partout ou j'ai voulu dormir . . . 
 Sur ma route est venu s'asseoir 
 Un malheureux vetu de noir 
 Qui me ressemblait comme un frere.' 
 
 Filled with a similar feeling, the wandering dreamer 
 had met, five hundred years before, in a " wilde wilder- 
 nesse and bi a wode-syde," a " moche man," who looked 
 ^'lyke to himself" — qui lui ressemblait comme un 
 frere — who knew him, .and called him by his real 
 name : 
 
 And thus I went wide-where " walkynge myne -one (alone), 
 
 By a wilde wildernesse * and bi a wode-syde . . . 
 
 And under a lynde uppon a launde * lened I a stounde, . . . 
 
 A moche man, as me thoughte • and lyke to my-selvc 
 
 Come and called me • by my kyndc name. 
 
 "What artow," quod I tho (then)' "that thow my name 
 
 knowest ? " 
 "That thow wost wel," quod he • "and no wyghte bettcrc." 
 " Wotc I what thow art? " • "Thought," seyde he thanne, 
 I have suvved (followed) the this sevene yere * sey thou me no 
 rather (sooner) ? " ^ 
 
 ^"Thought" reigns supreme, and does.with Langland 
 what he chooses. Langland is unconscious of what he 
 
 ' Mussct, "La Nuit de Decembre." ^ B. viii. 62. 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 155 
 
 is led to : his visions are for him real ones ; he tells 
 them as they rise before him ; he is scarcely aware that 
 he invents ; he stares at the sight and wonders as much 
 as we do ; he can change nothing ; his personages are 
 beyond his reach. There is therefore nothing pre- 
 pared, artistically arranged, or skilfully contrived, in 
 his poem. The deliberate hand of the man of the 
 craft is nowhere to be seen. He obtains artistic effects, 
 but without seeking for them ; he never selects or 
 co-ordinates. He is suddenly led, and leads us, from 
 one subject to another, without any better transition 
 than an " and thanne " or a " with that." ^ And 
 " thanne " we are carried a hundred miles away, among 
 entirely different beings, and frequently we hear no 
 more of the first ones. Or sometimes even, the first 
 re-appear, but they are no longer the same ; Piers Plow- 
 man personifies now the honest man of the people, now 
 the Pope, now Christ. Dowel, Dobet and Dobest have 
 two or three different meanings. The art of transitions, 
 as we have seen, is as much dispensed with in his poem 
 as at the opera : a whistle of the scene-shifter, an 
 " and thanne " of the poet — the palace of heaven fades 
 away, and we find ourselves in a smoky tavern inCornhill. '^ 
 
 Clouds pass over the sky, and sometimes sweep by 
 the earth ; their thickness varies, they take every shape : 
 now they are soft, indolent mists, lingering in mountain 
 hollows, that will rise towards noon, laden with the 
 scent of flowering lindens ; now they are storm-clouds, 
 threatening destruction and rolling with thunder ; night 
 
 ^ " Thanne come there a kyng. . . . With that ran there a 
 route of ratones. . . . And thanne come Pees in-to parlement 
 . . . ," &c. B. Prol. 112, 145 ; iv. 47. 
 
 II 
 
156 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 comes on, and suddenly the blackness is rent by so 
 glaring a light, that the plain assumes for an instant 
 the hues of mid-day ; then the darkness falls again, 
 deeper than before. 
 
 The poet moves among realities and abstractions, 
 and sometimes the first dissolve in fogs, while the 
 second condense into human beings, tangible and solid. 
 On the Malvern hills, the mists are so fine, it is impos- 
 sible to say : here they begin and here they end ; it is 
 the same in the Visions. 
 
 In the world of ethics, as among the realities of 
 actual life, Langland excels in summing up in one 
 sudden memorable flash the whole doctrine contained 
 in the nebulous sermons of his abstract preachers. He 
 then attains to the highest degree of eloquence, without 
 striving after it. In another writer, the thing would 
 have been premeditated, and the result of his skill and 
 cunning ; here the effect is as unexpected for the 
 author as for the reader. He so little pretends to 
 such felicities of speech, that he never leaves us on 
 the grand impressions thus produced ; he utilises them, 
 he is careful to make the best of the occasion ; it seems 
 as if he had conjured the lightning from the clouds 
 unawares, and he thinks it his duty to turn it to use. 
 The flash had unveiled the uppermost summits of the 
 realm of thought, and there will remain in our hands a 
 flickering rushlight that will, at most, help us upstairs. 
 
 Piers Plowman comes back from Rome, where he 
 too has gone on a pilgrimage. When those who take 
 such journeys return home, they have a bagful of 
 indulgences and holy relics ; some are destined for 
 their friends, there are enough for everybody ; pleasant 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 157 
 
 gifts and souvenirs, scraps of heaven are brought back 
 from Rome. Piers, have you not brought back indul- 
 gences? Why take so much trouble if you come home 
 empty-handed? Piers, show us your pardons; the 
 mere sight of them will do us good ; share with us 
 these marvellous wares : 
 
 " Pers," quod a prest tho • " thi pardon must I reden, 
 
 For I wol construe uch a clause • and knowen hit in Englisch." 
 
 And Pers at his preyere " the pardon unfoldeth, 
 And I bi-hynden hem bothe • bi-heold al the bulle. 
 In two lines hit lay • and not a lettre more, 
 And was i-written riht thus • in witnesse of treuthe : 
 Et qui bona egerunt ibunt in vitam eternam ; 
 ^i vero mala, in ignetn eternum. 
 "Peter," quod the preost tho * " I con no pardoun fynde . . ."^ 
 
 " Those who do well shall go into everlasting life." 
 These few words, that are like a flash of light, un- 
 assailable words, drawn from the purest doctrine, sum 
 up all Langland's theories on life, and all the sermons of 
 his preachers. Indulgences are condemned ; more than 
 that, they are condemned by preterition, without being 
 so much as named, and, with them, all that was then 
 the great evil of the soul : the love of " Fals-Sem- 
 blant," of easy redemption, of bargains and transac- 
 tions (pay, and I absolve thee), and the belief in a 
 paradise that can be won by proxy. 
 
 To these words, whose weight will be felt, if we 
 remember the importance religion then had in life, 
 succeeds a practical discussion between Piers and the 
 priest, that Langland would surely have left unwritten, 
 had his mind been in the slightest degree preoccupied 
 
 ' A. viii. 90. 
 
158 PIERS FLO IVMAN. 
 
 by artistic aims. He inserted it in his first text, and 
 repeated it in his second. Late in life it seems to have 
 occurred to him that the poem would be improved by 
 the suppression of those lines; they disappear accordingly 
 in text C ; but they are cut off so clumsily that a visible 
 gap is left behind ; now that they have been suppressed, 
 they are wanted : 
 
 The preest thus and Perkyn " of the pardon jangled.^ 
 
 " Thus ''" is left to stand out there as a sign-post, to 
 remind us that here was, in former times, a practicable 
 road, leading to somewhere : the reverse of what a born 
 artist would have done. 
 
 Langland follows no rule, no literary guide, no 
 precedent. He has passed his life in dreaming and 
 observing ; he has followed his thoughts with the 
 attention of a psychologist, and he has observed around 
 him all that lives and moves, from crowned kings to 
 birds on the trees and worms on the ground. He 
 tells what he has seen and nothing else ; his sole guide 
 is the light that shines over the tower where *' Truth " 
 is imprisoned. 
 
 This light serves him in the material as well as the 
 moral world ; it illumines the road during a mystic 
 journey through the Ten Commandments, one of those 
 numerous Pilgrim-Progresses incessantly re-begun in 
 the poem ; and it also clears the darkness of the London 
 lanes, where, under the pent-roof of their shops, the mer- 
 chants make Gyle, disguised as an apprentice, sell their 
 adulterated wares ; it brightens the hovel in Cornhill 
 where the poet lodges his emaciated body; it throws its 
 
 ^ C. X. 2Q2. 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. 159 
 
 rays on the scared faces of sinners for whom the hour of 
 punishment has rung. We have here a whole gallery of 
 portraits, which stand out in an extraordinary manner, 
 people whose every attitude betray the ruling vice, 
 personified abstractions as living as the characters of 
 La Bruyere ; and in truth, this canto of the poem 
 contains nothing but a description of the " Caracteres 
 et Moeurs de ce Siecle," the " siecle " of Edward III. 
 
 The courtier, vain and boastful, laughs aloud at his 
 slightest sallies, for untaught people must know he is 
 wittier and wiser than another. He is proud of his fine 
 clothes and of his superb oaths ('^ meny bolde othes)," 
 of his person and of his grace on foot, on horseback, 
 and even in bed. He has seen marvels and performed 
 wonders. Ask this man here, or that lady there ; they 
 will tell you what I did, what I endured, what I saw, 
 what I sometime possessed, what I know, " and what 
 kyn ich kam of ! " ^ 
 
 ^ Lauhynge al a-loude ' for lewede men sholde 
 Wene that ich were witty • and wyser than a-nothcre. . . . 
 Bostynge and braggynge • wyth meny bolde othcs . . . 
 And strengest up-on stede • and styvest under gurdell, 
 And lovelokest to loken on • and lykyngest a bedde. . . . 
 Of werkes that ich wel dude • wittnesse ich take, 
 And sygge to suche " that sytten me by-syde, 
 Lo, yf ye leyve me nouht • other that ye wene ich lye, 
 Aske of hym other of hure • and they conne yow telle 
 What ich sofFrede and seih • and som tyme hadde, 
 And what ich knew and couthe • and what kyn ich kam of. 
 
 C. vii. 23, 34, 43, 53. Cf. La Bruyere: "N * * * arrive 
 avec grand bruit : il ecartc le monde, se fait faire place ; il 
 gratte, il heurte prcsque ; il se nomme : on respire et il n'entre 
 qu'avec la foule. . . . Un homme de cour, qui n'a pas un 
 assez beau nom doit I'ensevelir sous un mcilleur . . . dire en 
 
1 60 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 The envious man, who lives alone, '* lyke a luther 
 dogge," is wrinkled as a leek that has lain long in the 
 sun : 
 
 And as a lekc hadde yleyen • longe in the sonne, 
 So loked he with Icne chekes. 
 
 He dwells among the burghers of London, in the 
 City, where the struggle for riches and for the 
 pleasures of life was already keen.^ 
 
 The old debauchee denies himself nothing : 
 
 As wel fastyngdaies as Frydaies ' and heye-feste evenes, 
 As luf (leaf) in lente as oute of lente • alle tymes liche . . . 
 Til we myghtc no more ; • thanne hadde we murye tales 
 Of . . . paramours. 
 
 toute rencontre : ma race, ma branche, mon nom et mes armes. 
 . . . Un Pamphile est plein de lui meme, ne se perd pas de vue, 
 ne sort point de I'idee de sa grandeur, de ses alliances, de sa 
 charge, de sa dignite. ..." ("Les Caracteres et Mceurs de 
 ce Siecle," chap. viii. and ix.). 
 
 ' Envye with hevy herte • asked after schrifte, 
 And carefullich mea culpa' he caused to shewe. 
 He was as pale as a pelet (stone ball) * in the palsye he scmcd. 
 And clothed in a caurimaury (rough clout) • I couthc it 
 
 noughte discreve ; 
 In kirtel (under-jacket) and kourteby (short cloak), • and a 
 
 knyf bi his syde, 
 Of a freres frokke • were the foresleves. 
 And as a leke hadde yleyc • longe in the sonne, 
 So loked he with lene chekes* lourynge (frowning) foule. . . . 
 " I wolde ben yshryve," quod this schrewe • " and (ifj I for 
 
 shame durst. . . . 
 Awey fro the auter (altar) thanne • turne I myn eyghen, 
 And biholde how Eleyne • hath a newe cote ; 
 I wisshe thanne it were myne * and al the webbe after. . . . 
 And thus I live lovelees • lyke a luther (wicked) dogge." 
 
 (B. V. 76 et seq.) 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. i6i 
 
 All his life long, he had a taste for the very risque 
 fabliaux and tales in vogue at that time, "murye 
 tales," " sotilede songes," '* lecherous tales," and had 
 " lykynge to lauhe " at such stories. Now that he is 
 " old and hor," this is his last pleasure, and he con- 
 tinues " lykynge tales of paramours." But he will for- 
 sake the same and nil carnal delights ; and forswear 
 wine and " drynke bote with the douke " (the ducks). ^ 
 
 The Miser, whose cheeks hang down like a leathern 
 purse ('^ as a letherene pors lollid hus chekus"), - has 
 much to tell concerning the manner in which fortunes 
 are made at the great fairs of Weyhill and Winchester, 
 whose fame was European ; or in the back shops 
 of the City, or on the markets of Bruges. He has 
 learnt usury from Jews and Lombards, and lends 
 money at high interest to all lords and knights who 
 offer good securities. Poor men, sometimes, must 
 needs borrow : 
 
 " Hastow pite on pore men • that mote nedes borwe ?" 
 "I have as moche pite of pore men ■ as pedlere hath of cattes, 
 That wolde kille hem, yf he cacche hem myghtc • for coveitise 
 oi here skynnes." 3 
 
 But here is Gloton going to shrive himself, and 
 trudging along to church. It is Friday, and he is 
 fasting ; he passes before the door of Betone (Beatrice) 
 the " brew-wif," who gives him good-day and asks 
 where he is going : 
 
 " To holy churche," quath he • "for to hure masse.; 
 And sitthen sitte and be yshriven • and synwe namore." 
 " Ich have good ale, godsyb • Gloton, wolt thow assaye ? '' 
 
 ' C. vii. 174. 2 Q vjj jgp 3 g ^r 257. 
 
l62 
 
 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 "What havcst thow," quath he * " eny hote spices ?" 
 " Ich have piper and pionys " and a pound of garlilc, 
 A ferthyng-worth of fynkelsede • for fastinge-daies." 
 Thennc goth Gloton yn * and grete othes after. ^ 
 
 There sat on the bench Cecil the laundress, with Wat 
 the gamekeeper and his wife, both drunk ; Tim the 
 tinker and two of his knaves. Hick the hackneyman, 
 Hugh the needier, Clarice of Cocklane (a street of ill- 
 
 SIRE GLOTON. 
 (From the misericord of a stall at Malvern.) 
 
 fame), the clerk of the church, Sir Piers of Priedieu (a 
 priest), and Peronelle of Flanders, a hayward, a hermit, 
 the hangman of Tyburn, Dawe the dykeman, and a 
 dozen idlers, porters, cut-purses, teeth-drawers, rebec- 
 players, rat-catchers, street-sweepers, rope-makers, in 
 addition to Rose the "disshere," Godfrey the garlic- 
 monger. Griffin the Welshman, and " heps " of others : 
 all settled there since early morn, and ready to wel- 
 come Gloton. 
 
 ^ C. vii, 355. See Appendix, VI. 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LAN GLAND. 163 
 
 An immense tavern, as we see. Langland has the 
 eyes of " Ymagynatyf " ; his tavern holds all the men 
 and women he has met at the ale-house during his 
 whole life ; just as his plain of Malvern was wide 
 enough to contain all mankind. Under the smoky 
 rafters, along the blackened tables, to the noise of 
 tankards and cups, sit the drinkers, made thirsty by 
 words and by pasony seeds ; they drink and drink 
 again ; shouts of laughter, blows, cries of " let go the 
 coppe ! " resound "til evensong rang." Screams, oaths, 
 odours rise, all of them "trop horribles," as the 
 Commons would have said. Escape who can ! but 
 every one cannot, Gloton, set with difficulty on his 
 legs, is unable to stand. A staff is brought him, and 
 he staggers along, taking one step sideways, and one 
 backwards, as a trained dog, *' lyke a glemannss bycche." 
 At last he reaches the door of his house ; but his 
 eyes are dim, he stumbles on the threshold and falls to 
 earth ; Clement, the cobbler, catches him up by the 
 waist and tries to lay him on his knees. . . . Let us 
 hastily leave the group. . . . With all the trouble in 
 the world, his wife and his daughter bear him to bed, 
 and this " excesse " is followed by complete rest ; he 
 sleeps Saturday and Sunday till sunset ; he wakes pale 
 and thirsty, and his first words are : "Who holds the 
 bowl.? "I 
 
 ' Some of the traits in this picture are to be found again in 
 Gower's much shorter description : 
 
 Thus ofte he is to bedde brought 
 But where he lith yet wot he nought, 
 Till he arise upon the morwe, 
 And then he saith : O, which a sorwe 
 
1 64 F/ERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 We see that Langland does not always keep com- 
 pany with mere abstractions. Many other personages 
 might be singled out from his gallery of portraits, but 
 these specimens will doubtless suffice to give an idea 
 of the realistic vigour with which he painted and put 
 on the stage the " Caracteres et mceurs " of that far-off 
 century. 
 
 II. 
 
 The poet's language is, if one may use the expression, 
 like himself, absolutely sincere. Chaucer, with his great 
 literary experience and good sense, wished that words 
 were used which were in closest relation to things : 
 
 The wordes must be cosyn to the dede. 
 
 Thanks to Langland's passionate sincerity, the same 
 close relationship is established between his thoughts 
 and his words. His thoughts are suited to his feelings, 
 and his words to his thoughts. He is sincere in all 
 things ; he seeks neither to deceive nor dazzle ; he 
 never wishes to screen a weak thought by a forcible 
 expression. The many quotations given above have 
 already allowed the reader to perceive this ; and 
 examples might be multiplied without number. While, 
 in the mystic parts of his Visions, Langland uses 
 
 It is for to be drinkeles, 
 
 So that half drunke, in such a rees (passion), 
 
 With drie mouth he sterte him up, 
 
 And saith : how, Baillez 9a the cuppe ! 
 " Confessio Amantis," ed. Pauli, London, 1857, vol. iii. bk. vi. 
 Gower wrote after Langland had composed his texts A and B. 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 165 
 
 a superabundance of fluid and abstract terms, that 
 look like morning mists and float along with his 
 thoughts, his style becomes suddenly sharp, nervous, 
 sinewy, when he comes back to earth and moves in the 
 world of realities. Let some sudden emotion fill his 
 soul, and he will rise again, not in the mist this time, 
 but in the rays of the sun ; he will soar aloft, and we 
 shall wonder at the grandeur of his eloquence. Some 
 of his simplest expressions are real trouvailles ; he 
 penetrates into the innermost recesses of our hearts, 
 and then goes on his way, and leaves us pondering and 
 thoughtful, filled with awe. What two-hours sermon 
 is worth this simple line : Christ became man. 
 
 And baptised and bishoped (confirmed) • with the blode of hi& 
 herte.^ 
 
 Some of his apostrophes, not a few of his rough but 
 energetic sketches, recall the more perfect examples of 
 the poetic art of a later date ; more than once uncouth 
 Langland reminds us of noble Milton : 
 
 Avenge, o God, thy slaughtered saints ! . . . 
 
 . . . Pore peple, thi prisoners • lorde, in the put of myschief, 
 
 Conforte tho creatures • that moche care sufFren 
 
 Thorw derth, thorw drouth * alle her dayes here, 
 
 Wo in wynter tymes • for wantyng of clothes, 
 
 And in somer tyme selde • soupen to the fulle ; 
 
 Comforte thi careful • Cryste, in thi ryche ! (kingdom)^ 
 
 If he wants floating words to follow close upon his 
 mystic thoughts, he uses realistic terms, noisy, ill- 
 flivoured expressions, when clouds have dispersed, and 
 
 ^ B XV. 545. 2 B_ xiv. 174. Milton, Sonnet xviii. 
 
1 66 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 he sits at table with Gloton. Whatever be his subject, 
 he will forge a word, or distort a meaning, or cram 
 into an idiom more meaning than grammar, custom, or 
 dictionary allow, rather than leave a gap between word 
 and thought ; both must be fused together and made 
 one. To give us an impression of the splendid tall- 
 roofed hostels which merchants built for themselves in 
 London with their ill-gotten gains, Langland docs not 
 stop in the street to make a sketch and description, but 
 merely says in one word : if they had been honest, they 
 would not " timber " so high.' Saracens and Jews 
 ought to be taught ; the root of our fiith is in them ; 
 they had "a lippe of owre byleve."- Many of his 
 short sayings, burning with enthusiasm, take hold of the 
 reader's mind and will not be easily forgotten. Some 
 of his sketches are doubtless scarcely visible now on the 
 paper ; still, when once seen, they live in the memory. 
 The picture in three words representing Piers as being 
 Truth's " pilgryme atte plow " 3 is as grand and simple 
 as a drawing by Millet, and the three words might 
 indeed have served as a motto for both. 
 
 His vocabulary of words is the normal vocabulary of 
 the period, the same nearly as Chaucer's. The poet of 
 the " Canterbury Tales " has been often reproached 
 with having used his all-powerful influence to obtain 
 rights of citizenship in England for French words. 
 But the accusation does not stand good. Chaucer 
 wrote in the language of his time, such as it was ; he 
 never tried to alter it, or to make it more French ; he 
 was very far from the pedantry of which examples 
 have been seen in several countries at a more recent 
 
 ' A. iii. 76. ^ B. XV. 493. i B. vi. 104. Supra, p. 119. 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 167 
 
 date ; attempts to latinise the French tongue, at the 
 Renaissance ; or to make English more Saxon, in our 
 day. Langland's works may serve as a proof of this. 
 He did not write for the court, and was in no 
 way concerned with the fashions and elegances of his 
 time. However, the admixture of French words is not 
 less considerable in his poem than in the works of his 
 illustrious contemporary. The visionary spoke, with- 
 out the slightest affectation, the language used by 
 everybody ; but everybody's language was permeated 
 as was the genius itself of the new-formed race, with 
 French elements. 
 
 His poem offers a combination of several dialects. ^ 
 Forms are found in his Visions, derived from a variety 
 of regions in England, and this may be taken as point- 
 ing to sojourns made by the poet in other places 
 besides Malvern and London. Northern, western, 
 southern forms meet in the poem, and, in many cases, 
 the discrepancy must needs be attributed to the author 
 himself, not to copyists. One dialect, however, pre- 
 dominates, that is, the Midland dialect ; Chaucer used 
 the East Midland, which is nearly the same, and was 
 destined to prevail and become the English language. 
 <i.An increase in the use of western words and forms 
 has been noticed in the last or C version of the text : 
 we must see in this a proof of Langland having 
 probably returned to the Malvern region, during the 
 last years of his life. 'fs. / 
 
 Langland did not accept any of the metres used by 
 
 ' On the dialect of Langland, see, besides Skeat : "William 
 Langleys Buch von Peter dem Pfliiger," by Richard Kron, Goet- 
 tingen, 1885, 8vo, pp. 85 et seq. 
 
1 68 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 Chaucer ; he preferred to remain in closer contact 
 with the Germanic past of his kin, and stuck to allite- 
 ration. The main ornament of French verse, namely 
 rhyme, had been vulgarised in England, owing to the 
 Norman conquest ; Chaucer wrote in rhyming lines, 
 though he found their rules difficult. The scarcity of 
 rhymes in the English language was for him a source 
 of trouble, " a grete penaunce," and he envied the 
 facilities afforded by the French tongue : 
 
 And eke to me hit is a grete penaunce, 
 
 Syth ryme in Englissh hath such skarsete, 
 
 To folowe worde by worde the curiosite 
 
 Of Graunsoun, floure of hem that make in Fraunce.^ 
 
 Chaucer, however, wavered not in his allegiance to 
 the prosody of " Fraunce," which had become, by this 
 time, the prosody of the greatest number in England 
 too. He did not like alliteration, and sneered at it : 
 
 I can not gcste, run, ram, ruf, by letter.^ 
 
 Alliteration was the main ornament of the verses 
 composed by the Germanic, and Scandinavian, and 
 Anglo-Saxon poets. It consisted in the use of a certain 
 number of accented syllables beginning with the same 
 letter. This metre had survived the Conquest, but in 
 a more or less broken state ; many poets used it clum- 
 sily, mingling the rules of the two prosodies. So did, 
 for example, Layamon, whose "Brut" offers, at the 
 beginning of the Xlllth century, a strange mixture of 
 
 ^ Last lines of the " Complaynt of Mars and Venus." 
 2 " Prologe of the Persone." 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LAN GLAND. 169 
 
 rhyme and alliteration. Some authors, however, had 
 a greater respect for the older system, and wrote, 
 according to fixed rules, poems, the fame of which has 
 survived. Among them stand foremost, in the XlVth 
 century, " Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight," i and, 
 above all, the Visions of Langland. 
 
 Langland wrote in long lines, divided into half-lines 
 by a pause, usually marked by a particular sign in 
 manuscripts (and by a raised full stop in printed 
 editions). Each line contains strong, that is strongly 
 accented, syllables, in fixed or nearly fixed number, and 
 weak, that is unaccented or slightly accented, syllables, 
 in varying number. The rules according to which 
 these elements are combined in Langland's verse have 
 been summed up as follows by Mr. Skeat : 
 
 " Each half-line contains two or more strong syl- 
 lables, two being the original and normal number. 
 More than two are often found in the first half-line, 
 but less frequently in the second. 
 
 " The initial-letters which are common to two or 
 more ot these strong syllables being called the rhyme- 
 letters^ each line should have two rhyme-letters in the 
 first and one in the second half. The two former are 
 called sub-letters, the latter chief -letter. 
 
 " The chief-letter should begin the former of the 
 two strong syllables in the second half-line. If the line 
 contain only two rhyme-letters, it is because one of the 
 sub-letters is dispensed with. 
 
 " If the chief-letter be a consonant, the sub-letters 
 should be the same consonant, or a consonant express- 
 ing the same sound. If a vowel, it is sufficient that the 
 
 ' Ed. R. Morris, Early English Text Society, 1864, 8vo. 
 
1 7 o PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 sub-letters be also vowels ; they need not be the same, 
 and in practice are generally different. If the chief- 
 letter be a combination of consonants, such as sp^ ch^ 
 stVy and the like, the sub-letters frequently present the 
 same combination, although the recurrence of the first 
 letter only would be sufficient." ' 
 
 These rules are not very difficult, and it must be 
 added, besides, that the poet handles them in a way 
 which renders them even more easy. Sometimes he 
 allows himself to begin a weak syllable with a rhyme- 
 letter ; at other places he uses two rhyme-letters in the 
 second half-line, and one only in the first. Take, for 
 example, the first four lines of the poem : 
 
 In a jomer ^eson • whan sdh was the j-onne 
 I j/'ope me in j^/roudes ■ as I a j/'epe were, 
 In ^abitc as an /^eremite " un/'oly of workes 
 Wtnt wydiQ. in this zu6r\6. ' zi^ondres to here. 
 
 Two only among those four lines are absolutely 
 regular ; the first has four rhyme-letters instead of 
 three ; the fourth is similarly constructed, and, besides, 
 the first of the rhyme-letters begins a weak syllable. 
 
 The alliterative prosody, of which Langland's Visions 
 are the most important specimen in England, survived 
 till the XVIth century. The taste for the tinklings 
 and tollings of such verses was deep-rooted in the race ; 
 and recurring sounds were long used, without rules, 
 and merely for the sake of the noise ; they are to be 
 found in most unexpected places. There had been 
 examples of them even in the Latin hexameters of 
 
 ^ Oxford edition, vol. ii. p. lix. 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LAN GLAND. 171 
 
 English poets of the Xllth century ; they abound in 
 Joseph of Exeter : 
 
 Audit et audet 
 Dux falli : fatisque favet cum fata recuset. 
 
 Ardet et audet 
 Promissorque ingens, facilis pr^esagia praedae 
 Ducit amor. 
 
 Postquam Helenes Paridi patuit pr^sentia, classem 
 Deserit,^ 
 
 In this shape, it may be said that alliteration never 
 died out ; it came down to our times, and there is 
 frequent use of it in Byron : 
 
 Our bay 
 Receives that prow which proudly spurns the spray. 
 How gloriously her gallant course she goes ! 
 Her white wings flying — never from her foes. 
 
 Or fallen too low to fear a further fall. 
 
 Of flight from foes with whom I could not cope.^ 
 
 Langland's erudition is such as might be expected 
 from one who described himself as anxious to know, 
 but "loth for to stodie." He has visibly read much, 
 but hastily and without method ; he has read at 
 random, and never taken the trouble to classify and 
 ticket what he remembered. Except when it is a 
 question of the Scriptures, which were for him the 
 subject of constant meditations, he quotes at random ; 
 
 ' "De Bello Trojano," bk. iii. 11. 108, 241, 223. 
 2 "Corsair." 
 
172 . PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 his Scriptural quotations even are not always quite 
 accurate. He thinks he remembers this or that author 
 has said something in support of a favourite theory of 
 his ; he therefore names the author, and refers us, with- 
 out chapter or verse, to Ovid, Aristotle and Plato ; and 
 it would be very bad luck indeed, if one or the other, 
 in some work or other, had not said, in some manner, 
 something to the purpose. Most of his references are 
 mere guesses. At a certain place, to feel perfectly 
 secure of not standing alone and unsupported, he 
 appeals to " Porfirie and Plato, Aristotile, Ovidius, 
 . . . Tullius, Tholomeus," and " elevene hundred " 
 more ; a very long roll of authorities, as we see. 
 
 If the quotations from the Bible and the works of 
 the Fathers are not always accurate, the superabun- 
 dance of them, and the ease with which they recur 
 under his pen, are proof sufficient of his having been 
 impregnated, as it were, with religious literature. His 
 mistakes even are, in a sense, an additional proof, as 
 they show that he does not open his books to find out 
 appropriate passages ; he quotes from memory ; his 
 memory, however, is not absolutely trustworthy ; and 
 Ymagynatyf, as usual, plays him some very bad turns. 
 < Besides the ancients and the Bible, Langland shows 
 a knowledge of a good many more recent authors. 
 He is familiar with French ballads and romances, with 
 English and Latin works, with Robin Hood and Guy of 
 Warwick, the Seven Sleepers, the Golden Legend. He 
 represents his London workmen singing French songs : 
 '' Dieu vous save. Dame Emme." ^ He knows the 
 *' Goliardeys . . . glotoun of wordes " - and the satirical 
 
 ^ B. Prol. 223. - B. Prol. 139. 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. 173 
 
 poems of which they were the heroes. He has read 
 Rutebeuf's " Voie de Paradis," ,the '* Pelerinages " 
 of Deguileville, the " Roman de la Rose " ; and more 
 or less conscious reminiscences of those poems are 
 afloat in his memory. V 
 
 III. 
 
 Langland addresses men of good will, whatever be 
 their rank or avocations ; he writes for the mass of the 
 people rather than for the small group of the exalted 
 ones. Sincere and upright, he wants to be under- 
 stood ; he is never purposely obscure ; his aim is 
 never to please or astonish or dazzle connoisseurs ; 
 he seeks, simply, means to direct rays of light to 
 obscure corners usually left in darkness. Thus he is 
 original and worthy the attention of artists, because 
 he is so intensely honest, not by reason of his clever- 
 ness. All his Latin quotations are translated into"? 
 English, for he never loses sight of the untaughy 
 part of his audience : 
 
 "I can nought construe al this," quod Haukyn • "ye moste 
 kenne me this on Englisch." 
 
 To Englisch-men this is to mene. . . . 
 
 If lewed men wist • what this Latyn meneth. . . J- 
 
 And he turns " this Latyn " into English. All the 
 better, he thinks, if he is read by the learned and the 
 
 ' B. xiv. 276 ; XV. 55 ; xv. 1 16, &c. 
 
1 74 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 wealthy ; but he means, before all, to be accessible to 
 the poor and lowly, to " lewede men." He therefore 
 shapes his thoughts into the form that will better 
 appeal to this sort of men ; proverbs and proverbial 
 sayings abound in his works ; most numerous, too, are 
 practical counsels for everyday life, given in the half 
 serious, half humorous tone which the wisdom of 
 nations usually affects. 
 
 A catechism of memorable sayings, and a collection 
 of curious mottoes, might easily be made out of his 
 Visions. Let Common Sense " be wardeyne, yowre 
 welthe to kepe." " Mesure is medcyne." Faith 
 without deeds is *' as ded as a dore-tre." Chastity 
 without charity "is as lewed as a laumpe that no lighte 
 is inne." " The Comune ys the kynges tresour." 
 Trust in God and in his mercy ; wicked deeds 
 
 Fareth as a fonk. (spark) of fuyr • that ful a-myde Temese 
 (Thames). 
 
 I tell you, rich, it cannot possibly be, that you should 
 
 Have hevene in yowre here-beyng ■ and hevene her-after. 
 
 Selden moseth (becomes mossy) the marbelston • that men ofte 
 treden.^ 
 
 Some of the people Langland produces on his stage 
 are " as wroth as the wynd — as comune as the cart- 
 wey — as hende (courteous) as hounde is in kychyne," 
 
 &C.2 
 
 ' B. i. 35, 55, 184 ; C. vi. 182, vii. 333 ; B. xiv. 140 ; A. x. loi, 
 - C. iv. 486, 168 ; B. V. 261. Cf. Gower : " Comun plus qe 
 la hake voie." "Ballade " xliii. 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LAN GLAND. 175 
 
 Langland is a true Englishman, as truly English 
 as Chaucer ; even more so. One important character- 
 istic is wanting in Chaucer ; he is not insular; there 
 is an admixture of French and Italian ideas in his 
 mind ; at bottom, no doubt, he is mainly English, but 
 still, there is something of a cosmopolitan tinge about 
 him. Continental "makers" acknowledged him as a 
 brother ; " Fraunces Petrark, the laureat poet," told 
 him, it seems, when they met near " Padowe," the tale 
 of patient Grisilde ; Des Champs praised him for having 
 ■" plante le rosier" on British ground. Not so with 
 Langland, who is nothing if not insular ; he may even 
 be said to be the typical insular ; and one of the first 
 on record. He is not a brother poet for continental 
 poets ; he will not be praised by Des Champs. Other 
 countries are nothing to him but with reference to 
 his own. His views accord very well with this most 
 important period in the history of England, when the 
 nation, growing conscious of its own individuality, 
 becomes decidedly averse to over-extension, does not 
 want the Pyrenees for its frontier, nor a French town 
 for its capital ; but seeks, on the contrary, whatever its 
 leaders and kings may aspire to, to gather itself up, 
 to concentrate its forces, to become a strong, well- 
 defined, powerful body, and cease to be a large and 
 loose invertebrate thing. Only when this gathering 
 up shall have been successfully accomplished, will 
 the nation lend itself readily to a policy of expan- 
 sion. This second phase was not to be seen by 
 Langland, for it took place only in Elizabeth's reign. 
 The Hundred Years war was a royal, not a national, 
 war ; the movement for expansion did not assume a 
 
1 7 6 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 national character before the XVIth century, EngHsh 
 kings fought against France ; the EngUsh nation peopled 
 the shores of America. Our visionary thoroughly 
 belongs to his day and country ; he is afraid lest 
 England should be drawn into a policy of adventures ; 
 he wants peace with France ; he rejoices, as we have 
 seen, when he hears that Edward has consented 
 
 To leve that lordschupe ■ for a luitel selver/ 
 
 This is, according to Langland, one of the best 
 things Edward did; he followed in this the advice 
 of Conscience, When the question is of peace, Lang- 
 land is always ready to cry with the Commons : " Oil ! 
 oil ! " Yes, yes. He wants the nation to spend its 
 energies at home, and not to be disturbed from this 
 noblest of tasks, the improvement of the machinery 
 of the State, and the establishment of a more perfect 
 balance of power between King and Parliament, 
 
 This equilibrium was to be, and Langland longed 
 for it. Constitutional ideas had not, in the whole field 
 of English literature, during the XlVth century, a 
 better representative than Langland ; it may almost be 
 said that they had no other. We have noticed how 
 closely he identified himself with the Commons of 
 England, wanting what they wanted, hating what they 
 hated. There is almost no remonstrance in the Rolls 
 of Parliament that is not to be found also in the Visions, 
 The same reforms are advocated, the same abuses de- 
 nounced. The Commons are, like the poet, intensely 
 insular ; but, insular as they show themselves to be, 
 they offer a most happy combination of the Norman 
 
 ^ A, iii. 200, Supra, p. 35, 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. 177 
 
 and Saxon genius. They have sometimes the bound- 
 less audacities of mystic dreamers, whom nothing 
 stops, because they build in the air. But this same 
 impossible dream, doomed, it would seem, to vanish like 
 smoke, this dream is appropriated, transformed, made 
 useful and practical, by the Norman Mind that is on 
 the watch in the " chambre depeinte " at Westminster ; 
 and the shadow becomes reality. Thus has worked for 
 centuries, to the great profit of the nation, the dual 
 genius inherited from remote ancestors. The Saxon 
 dreams his dream and sings his song ; the Norman 
 listens and says : Why not } be it so ! To pass from 
 the absolute monarchy of the early Plantagenets, to a 
 limited monarchy in which the main source of power 
 will be vested in the Commons : what an exorbitant 
 dream, fit only for the wanderer resting his limbs by 
 the shade of the Malvern linden trees ! A few genera- 
 tions come and go, and fancy becomes truth ; the 
 thing is there, realised, and the poet goes to West- 
 minster, and states in his verses that there it is. It 
 took other nations four hundred years more to reach the 
 same goal. 
 
 Another important characteristic increased the hold 
 of Langland over his contemporaries and the men who 
 came after ; namely, his unconquerable aversion for all 
 that is mere appearance and show, self-interested im- 
 posture ; for all that is antagonistic to conscience, 
 abnegation, sincerity. Such is the great and funda- 
 mental indignation that is in him ; all the others 
 are derived from this one. For, while his mind was 
 impressed with the idea of the seriousness of life, he 
 happened to live when the mediaeval period was 
 
1 7 8 FIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 drawing to its close ; and, as usually happens towards 
 the end of epochs, people no longer took in earnest 
 any of the faiths and feelings which had supplied fore- 
 going generations with their strength and motive power. 
 He saw with his own eyes knights prepare for war as 
 if it were a hunt ; ^ learned men consider the mysteries 
 of religion as fit subjects to exercise one's mind in after- 
 dinner discussions ; the chief guardians of the flock 
 busy themselves with their " owelles " only to shear, not 
 to feed, them. Meed was everywhere triumphant ; her 
 misdeeds had been vainly denounced ; her reign had 
 come ; under the features of Alice Ferrers she was now 
 the paramour of the king ! ^ 
 
 At all such, men and things, Langland thunders 
 anathema. Lack of sincerity, all the shapes and sorts 
 of " faux semblants," fill him with inextinguishable 
 
 ' Wars in France : " Et avoech ce, li rois (Edward III.) avoit 
 bien pour lui trente fauconniers a cheval, cargics de oisiaus et bien 
 soixante couplez de fors chiens et otant de levriers dont il aloit 
 cescun jour en cace ou en riviere ensi qu'il lui plaisoit. Et si y 
 avoit pluiseurs des signeurs et des riches hommes qui avoient leurs 
 chiens et leurs oiziaus ossi bien comme li rois leurs sires."' 
 Froissart, " Chroniques," Luce, bk. i. ch. 83. 
 
 ^ " Milites parliamentales graviter conquesti sunt de quadam, 
 Alicia Pereres nominata, foemina procacissima, qua; nimis 
 familiaris extiterat Domino regi Edwardo. Hanc utique accusa- 
 bant de mails plurimis, per earn et fautores ejus iactis in regno. 
 Ilia etenim modum mulierum nimis est supergressa ; sui etenim 
 sexus et fragilitatis immemor, nunc juxta Justiciarios regis 
 residendo, nunc in foro ecclesiastico juxta doctor es se collocando, 
 pro defensione causarum suadere ac etiam contra jura postulare, 
 minime verebatur." Walsingham, " Historia Anglicana," a.d. 1376 
 (Rolls), vol. i. p. 320. A first draft of a similar picture had been 
 drawn beforehand by Langland in his portrait of Lady Meed 
 (A. ii. et seq.^ 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. 179 
 
 hatred. In shams and " faux semblants," he sees the 
 true source of good and evil, the touchstone of right 
 and wrong, the main difference between the worthy 
 and the unworthy. He constantly recurs to the subject 
 by means of his preachings, epigrams, portraits, carica- 
 tures ; he manages to bring forward anew, to magnify 
 and multiply, his precepts and his curses, so as to 
 increase our impression of the danger and number of 
 the adherents to " Fals-Semblant." By such means, 
 he hopes, we shall at last hate those whom he hates. 
 Endlessly therefore, in time and out of time, among 
 the mists, across the streets, under the porches of the 
 church, to the drowsy chant of his orations, to the 
 whistle of his satires, ever and ever again, he conjures 
 up before our eyes the hideous grinning face of " Fals- 
 Semblant " the insincere. Fals-Semblant is never 
 named by name ; he assumes all names and shapes ; ^ 
 
 ^ Compare the description in the " Romaunt of the Rose," 
 where "Fals-Semblant" appears, of course, under his proper 
 name, and thus describes his own transformations : 
 
 . . . Protheus that cowde hym chaunge, 
 
 In every shape homely and straunge, 
 
 Cowde nevere sich gile ne tresoune 
 
 As I ; for I come never in toune 
 
 There as I myghte knowen be, 
 
 Though men me bothe myght here and see. . . . 
 
 Now am I knyght, now chasteleyne ; 
 
 Now prelat, and now chapeleyne . . . 
 
 Now am I maister, now scolere. 
 
 Now monke, now chanoun, now baily. . . . 
 
 Somme tyme am I hore and olde; 
 
 Now am I yonge, stoute and bolde ; 
 
 Now am I Robert, now Robyn ; 
 
 Now frere menour, nqw jacobyn ; 
 
i8o PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 he is the king who reigns contrary to conscience, the 
 knight perverted by Lady Meed, the heartless man of 
 law, the merchant without honesty, the friar, the 
 pardoner, the hermit, who conceal under the garment 
 of saints, hearts that will rank them with the accursed 
 ones. Fals-Semblant is the pope who sells benefices, 
 the histrion, the tumbler, the juggler, the adept of the 
 vagrant race, who goes about telling tales and helping 
 his listeners to forget the seriousness of life. From the 
 unworthy pope, down to the lying juggler, all these 
 men are the same man. Deceit stands before us ; 
 God's vengeance be upon him ! Whenever and where- 
 ever Langland detects Fals-Semblant, he loses control 
 over himself; anger blinds him ; it seems as if he were 
 confronted by Antichrist. 
 
 No need to say whether he is then master of his 
 words and able to measure them. With him, in such 
 cases, no nuances or extenuations are admissible ; you 
 are with or against Fals-Semblant ; there is no middle 
 way ; a compromise is a treason ; and is there anything 
 worse than a traitor } And thus he is led to sum up 
 his judgment in such lines as this : 
 
 He is worse than Judas • that giveth a japer silver.^ 
 
 If we allege that there may be some shade of 
 exaggeration in such a sentence, he will shrug his 
 
 And with me folwith my loteby (paramour) . . . 
 Somtyme a wommans cloth take I ; 
 Now am I a mayde, now lady . . . 
 Somtyme am I a prioresse, 
 
 And now a nonne and now abbesse. ... (1. 6322.) 
 ^ B. ix, 90. 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LAN GLAND. i8i 
 
 shoulders. The doubt is not possible, he thinks, and 
 his plain statement is self-evident. 
 
 No compromise ! Travel through life without 
 bending ; go forward in a straight line between the 
 high walls of duty. Perform your own obligations ; 
 do not perform the obligations of others. To do 
 over-zealously your duty, to take upon you the duty 
 of others, would trouble the State ; you approach, in so 
 doing, the borderland of Imposture. The knight will 
 fight for his country, and must not lose his time in 
 fasting and in scourging himself. A fasting knight is 
 a bad knight. 
 
 Many joys are allowed. They are included, as a 
 bed of flowers, between the high walls of duty ; love 
 flowers even grow there, to be plucked, under the 
 blue sky. But take care not to be tempted by that 
 wonderful female Proteus, Lady Meed, the great cor- 
 ruptress. She disappears and reappears, and she too 
 assumes all shapes ; she is everywhere at the same 
 time ; it seems as if the asp of Eden had become the 
 immense reptile that circles the earth. Meed is the 
 more dangerous because she is at times legitimate 
 reward, and at times odious bribery ; and as she 
 always comes with her same bewitching, beautiful face, 
 it is sometimes difficult to know which Meed stands 
 near, beckoning us. Langland therefore uses all the 
 means in his power to put the faithful adherents of 
 the Plowman on their guard. Were Meed ever 
 bribery, the danger would be immensely lessened ; but 
 she is often Compromise ; and with Compromise 
 heads become giddy ; the abyss opens wide and near. 
 Piers Plowman undertakes to do duty as a guide ; a 
 
1 8 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 salary would be both welcome and legitimate ; but he 
 refuses, fearing Lady Meed.i 
 
 All the aversions of Langland are fused into this 
 one ; and a grand and splendid thing it is to con- 
 template the outbursts of such a fiery hatred against 
 the most trifling extenuations of truth. He does not 
 spare himself ; his want of abnegation draws from him 
 bitter tears. Kneeling on the stone flags, he cries 
 mercy to his other self that tortures him ; his long 
 frame is shaken by sobs. 
 
 This hatred is immense ; but stands alone in the 
 heart of the poet ; to all the rest he is comparatively 
 merciful. It is a strange but certain fact that, with 
 all his indignation, he is at bottom an optimist. His 
 mind, no doubt, is traversed by melancholy thoughts, 
 as was the mind of the Saxon ancestor ; the idea of 
 death and the charnel-house weighs upon him : 
 
 For in charncl atte chirche • cherles ben yvel to knowe, 
 Or a knighte fram a knave there * knowe this in thin herte. ^ 
 
 Such were the Saxon anxieties, and such was also the 
 peculiar sadness which, pervading the works of Villon, 
 has secured for him a place apart in the literature 
 of old France. He, too, thought of the charnel-house 
 and stared at the skulls thrown together there : 
 
 Et ycelles qui s'inclinaient 
 Une contre autres en leurs vies, 
 
 ^ "Nay, by the peril of my soule"' Peers gan swere, 
 " Ich nolde fonge a ferthing • for seynt Thomas shryne ! 
 Were it told to Treuthe * that ich toke mede, 
 He wolde louye me the lasse • a longc tyme after." 
 
 (C. viii. 200.) 
 
 2 B. vi. 50. 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. 183 
 
 Desquelles les unes regnaient 
 Des autres craintes et servies, 
 La les vols toutes assouvies 
 Ensemble, en un tas, pele-mele . . . ^ 
 
 But, in truth, when the gusts of the tempest have 
 ceased, — and no violent tempest lasts very long, — 
 Langland shows himself an optimist. Death even 
 appears to him sometimes with a sweet face, death, 
 
 The which unknitteth al kare • and comsynge is of restc.^ 
 
 He does not believe that humanity is doomed to total 
 and final perdition. He does not despair of future, not 
 even of present times. Men will perhaps be converted, 
 and become better, and act better. They are not so 
 wicked, and their organisation so monstrous, that society 
 must be upset and rebuilt again. Actual arrangements 
 must be improved, not destroyed. He leaves un- 
 touched, ecclesiastical hierarchy, dogma, the division 
 of classes ; but, above all, he shudders at the mere 
 idea that any damage might be sustained by that holy 
 and peerless institution, that palladium of liberty and 
 progress : the Parliament and Commons of England. 
 
 He goes about, preaching disinterestedness, abnegation, 
 
 austere virtues ; but there is often, at the same time, 
 
 kindness in his voice ; comfort is derived from the very 
 
 sound of his words. A feeling of sympathy for the 
 
 suffering ones warms the whole work ; he is visibly 
 
 one with them ; his sternest precepts are softened by 
 
 the tone in which they are delivered. There is 
 
 something pathetic, and tragic also, in his having to 
 
 acknowledge that there is no cure for many evils, and 
 
 ^ " Le Grand Testament," CL. 
 ^ B. xviii. 213. 
 
i84 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 that, for the present, resignation onJy can soothe the 
 pain. With a throbbing heart he shows the unhappy 
 and the lowly, who will die before having seen the 
 better days that are to come, the only talisman that 
 may help them : a scroll with the words, " Thy will 
 be done ! " : 
 
 But I loked what lyflode (means of life) it was • that Pacience 
 
 so preysed, 
 And thanne was it a pece of the pater noster ' " Fiat voluntas tua^ ^ 
 
 Piers the Plowman is the ideal of the poet ; but 
 Langland is not blind to the possible merits of the 
 rich and the powerful. Charity sometimes lives among 
 them, as among the poor : 
 
 ./For I have seyne hym in sylke ' and somme tyme in russet. ^ 
 
 He is a strict adherent to dogmas, and to the tradi- 
 tional teaching of the Church ; but the idea of so many 
 Saracens and Jews, doomed wholesale to everlasting 
 pain, is repellent to him ; he can scarcely accept it ; 
 he hopes they will be all converted and " turne in-to 
 the trewe feithe " ; for " Cryste cleped us alle . . . 
 Sarasenes and scismatikes . . . and Jewes." 3 
 
 The truth is, that there was a tender heart under 
 the rough and rugged exterior of the impassioned, 
 indignant, suffering poet. Much of what has been 
 pointed out before leads to such a conclusion ; and 
 
 ^ B. xiv. 47. 2 B. XV. 214. 
 
 3 B. xiii. 209; xi. 114. To be compared to the observations of 
 the Good Parliament concerning the "aliens" having benefices in 
 England : " Si est Seint Esglise plus destruyt par tielx malveiz 
 Cristiens que par touz les Jewes et Saracyns du monde " (" Rotuli 
 Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 338). 
 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 185 
 
 if an additional proof were wanted, it would be found in 
 the motto adopted by him, which shows, better than all 
 the rest, what were his aims in life : Disce^ Doce, Dilige. 
 In these words will be found the true interpretation of 
 Dowel, Dobet, and Dobest : Learn, Teach, Love : 
 
 Thus taughte me ones 
 A lemman that I loved • Love was hir name.^ 
 
 What is then to be learnt above all things in this 
 life ? 
 
 " Conseille me, Kynde (nature)," quod I • " what crafte is best 
 
 to lerne ? " 
 " Lerne to love," quod Kynde ' and leve of alle othre." ^ 
 
 ' B. xiii. 138, 2 B. XX. 206. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LANGLAND's fame HIS PLACE IN MYSTIC LITERA- 
 TURE. 
 
 I. 
 
 WHILE their author continued to live obscure 
 and unknown, the Visions, as soon as written, 
 were circulated, and acquired considerable popu- 
 larity throughout England. In spite of the time that 
 has elapsed, and numberless destructions, there still 
 remain forty-five manuscripts of the poem, more or 
 less complete ; ^ and this figure is the more remarkable 
 when we consider that, contrary to works written in 
 Latin or in French, Langland's book was not copied 
 and preserved outside his own country. One of these 
 manuscripts was possibly written or corrected by the 
 author himself. ^ 
 
 ^ See, concerning each of them, the indications supplied by Mr. 
 Skeat, Oxford ed., vol. ii. p. 6i. Cf. Richard Kron, "William 
 Langleys Buch von Peter dem Pfluger, Untersuchungen das Hand- 
 schriftenverlaltniss und dem Dialckt," Goettingen, 1885, 8vo. 
 
 2 MS. Laud, Misc. 581, in the Bodleian Library, Oxford. "I 
 believe there is no reason why it may not be the author's autograph 
 copy. Wherever a slight mistake is left in the text, there is a 
 mark at the side to call attention to it." Skeat, Oxford ed., vol. ii. 
 p. Ixviii., containing text B. 
 

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 ^ s ^ 
 
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LANGLANUS FAME. 187 
 
 The poem did not tempt the hand of the clever 
 illuminators of the period. The serious and practical 
 character of the work was so evident that it was always 
 transcribed to be read, and not looked at ; scribes copied 
 it, as it had been written, for the benefit of the simple 
 and sincere, for men of good will. This is why it 
 comes before us, like the author himself, " robed in 
 russet t." I 
 
 '* Piers Plowman " soon became a sign and a symbol, 
 a sort of pass-word, a personification of the labouring 
 classes, of the honest and courageous workman ; while 
 "the mayde Mede," "Meed and Falseheed," also became 
 famous, and were duly held in extreme contempt.- In 
 his "Canterbury Tales," amid all his aristocratic, joyous, 
 or grimacing figures, Chaucer introduces a labourer 
 who appears nearly related to ours, and who leads, with 
 the utmost nobility of heart, a life both active and 
 
 holy: 
 
 A trcvve swynker and a good was hee, 
 Lyvynge in pees and perfight charitee. . . . 
 He wolde threisshe, and therto dyke and delve, 
 For Cristes sake, with every pore wight, 
 Withouten huyre, if it laye in his might.3 
 
 The name of Piers figured as an attraction on the 
 title of numerous treatises ; 4 there existed, as early as 
 
 ' Very rough drawings, of which specimens have been given, 
 pp. 3 3 and 151, adorn, however, the MS. Douce 1 04 in the Bodleian 
 Library ; and the MS. R. 3. 14, in the library of Trinity College, 
 Cambridge, has the frontispiece, reproduced above, p. 119. 
 
 2 Wright, "Political Poems," vol. ii. p. 238. 
 
 3 Prologue of the "Canterbury Tales," written about 1386; 
 " Piers Plowman" was then already famous. 
 
 4 A series of such treatises is enumerated by Mr. Skeat, London 
 ed., vol. iv. pp. 864 et seq. "The Praier and Complaynte of the 
 
 13 
 
1 88 FIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 the XlVth century, " Creeds " of Piers Plowman, 
 "Complaints" of the Plowman, &c.^ Piers' credit 
 was made use of at the time of the Reformation, and 
 in his name were demanded the suppression of abuses, 
 and the transformation of the old order of things. He 
 even appeared occasionally on the stage : 
 
 Piers. 
 
 1 beseech your Grace 
 
 To pity my distress. There is an unknown thief 
 That robs the commonwealth. . . . 
 The time hath been, my lord, /» diebus illis. 
 That the ploughman's coat was of good home-spun russet 
 cloth. . . . 
 
 King. 
 
 Alas, poor Piers, I have heard my father say 
 That Piers Plowman was one of the best members in a 
 commonwealth. ^ 
 
 Sometimes Piers was entrusted with missions of which 
 Langland would never have approved. At an early 
 date, the meaning of the poem had been distorted by 
 many, each being moved thereunto by the necessities 
 
 Plowman unto Christe," 1531, in prose ; " Pyers Plowmans Exor- 
 tation unto the Lordes, Knightes, and Burgoyses of the Parlyament 
 House " (time of Edward VI.) ; "A goodlye Dialogue and Dyspu- 
 tacion between Pycrs Ploweman and a popish preest," 1548 (?), 
 &c. 
 
 ' "Pierce the Ploughman's Crede," written in alliterative lines 
 in 1394 or thereabout, edited by Mr. Skeat, Early English Text 
 Society, 1867, 8vo. "The Plowman's Tale, or the Complaint 
 of the Plowman," written about 1395, sometimes, but wrongly, 
 attributed to Chaucer; edited by Wright, "Political Poems" 
 ("Rolls"). 
 
 2 "A merry Knack to know a Knave," 1594, in Dodsley's "Old 
 Plays," Hazlitt's edition, vol. vi., 1874, P- S^o. 
 
LANGLAND'S FAME. 189 
 
 of his cause. All the dissatisfied, all the protesters and 
 reformers forcibly pulled the Plowman by his cloak, or 
 seized it to place it on their own shoulders. Nothing 
 proves more clearly than this the renown and authority 
 of the Visions. 
 
 >^ Langland was still living when, in direct opposition 
 to his ideas, the name of his hero became a sort of 
 watchword in the great uprising of the peasantry in 
 1 38 1. An English letter, written at this time, in 
 mysterious terms, by the priest John Ball, to the 
 rebels of the county of Essex, has been preserved ; 
 it contains allusions to Piers Plowman, to Dowel and 
 Debet, and runs thus : 
 
 " John Schep, som tyme Seynt Marie prest of Yorke 
 and nowe of Colchestre, greteth well Johan Nameles, 
 and Johan Cartere, and biddeth hem that thei ware of 
 gyle in borugh, and stondeth togiddir in Goddis name, 
 and biddeth Peres Ploughman go to his werke, and 
 chastise welle Hobbe the robber, and taketh with you 
 Johan Trewman and alle his felaws, and no mo [and 
 loke shappe ^ you to on heued and no mo]. 
 
 Johan the muller has ygrounde smal, smal, smal. . . . 
 
 Be ware or ye be wo, 
 
 Knoweth your frende fro youre foo . . . 
 
 And do welle and bettre, and fleth synne."^ 
 
 The task assigned by Langland to his Plowman was 
 
 ' The printed text has sharpe, a mistake pointed out by Mr. E. 
 Maunde Thompson ; the meaning being : Look you group your- 
 selves under one chief only. 
 
 ^ " Miserat insuper ductoribus communibus in Estsexia quamdam 
 litteram snigmatibus plenam ad hortandum eos ut incepta per- 
 ficerent quae expost inventa est in manica cujusdam suspendendi 
 
I90 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 not, by any means, the one John Ball hoped to see him 
 accomplish, and the words Dowel and Dobet assumed 
 quite another signification, issuing from the pen of the' 
 rebellious priest, than the " Disce, dosce, dilige " of the 
 poet. 
 
 The adoption of the name of the Plowman as sym- 
 bolic of the rising came doubtless from the fact that, 
 on some points, Langland had expressed opinions in 
 accord with the feelings of the malcontents. He had 
 been, for example, very hard upon the men of law, 
 whom the peasants hated above all others. John 
 Ball recommended his followers to destroy : ist. 
 " Majores regni dominos " ; 2nd. " Juridicos, justiciarios 
 et juratores patrias." ^ Walsingham states that this last 
 hatred was so keen that it was dangerous to be seen 
 with an inkstand.- 
 
 As time passes, erroneous interpretations of the poem 
 multiply. " Bilious Bale," in the XVlth century, makes 
 out our author to be a Wyclifite, and a forerunner of 
 the Protestants ; 3 Thomas Fuller, in the following 
 century, speaks of him as the " Morning Star " of the 
 Reformation, belonging " rather to the day then to the 
 night." In spite of the manuscripts of the Plowman 
 being unadorned with beautiful miniatures, their value 
 was nevertheless appreciated, and they figure, as early 
 
 pro turbatione praefata, cujus tenor talis est . . . 'John Schep,' &c. 
 . . . Hanc litteram idem Johannes Balle confessus est scripsisse." 
 Walsingham, " Historia Anglicana," vol. ii. p. 33 ("Rolls"). 
 
 ' "Chronicon Anglise " (" Rolls "), p. 321. 
 
 ~ "Periculosum erat agnosci pro clerico, sed multo periculosius 
 si ad latus alicujus atramentarium inventum fuisset." "Historia 
 Anglicana" ("Rolls"), vol. ii. p. 19. 
 
 3 See above, Chapter III. p. 60. 
 
LANGLANUS FAME. 191 
 
 as the XVth century, in wills, as objects deserving of 
 mention, and fit to constitute separate legacies. One's 
 heirs were left : " Unum librum Anglicanum de Pers 
 Plughtnan " — " librum vocatum Piers Plowman." ^ 
 
 Lydgate, Gawain Douglas, Skelron, all were ac- 
 quainted with the poem, and make allusions to it. 
 Bishop Ridley, later, complains that people of the 
 new school have modernised old English authors : 
 " Petrum Aratorem, Gowerum et Chaucerum, et 
 sitnilis farinas homines." ^ Under Elizabeth, all the 
 literary critics mention the Plowman ; he is spoken 
 of by William Webbe, Puttenham, Meres ; the latter, 
 enumerating the English satirists, begins with Piers 
 Plowman. " As Horace, Lucilius . . . are the best 
 for satire among the Latins, so with us, in the same 
 faculty, these are chief : Piers Plowman, . . .'' &c.3 
 Gascoigne, in his poem the " Steel Glas," gives a 
 portrait of the Plowman very similar to Langland's 
 picture : 
 
 Stand forth, good Peerce, thou plowman by thy name, 
 
 . . . stand forth Peerce plowman first, 
 
 Thou winst the roome, by verie worthinesse. . . . 
 
 Disdaine him not : for shal I tel you what ? 
 
 Such clime to heaven, before the shaven crownes. 
 
 . . . For they feed, with frutes of their gret paines 
 
 Both king and knight, and priests in cloyster pent.* 
 
 ^ Wills of the years 14.31 and 1433 ; Skeat, London cd., vol. iv. 
 p. 864. 
 
 2 About 1555 ; Skeat, ibid., p. 866. 
 
 3 " Paladis Tamia," registered 1598, Arber's "English Garner," 
 
 1879, ^°^' ^^- P- ^°°- 
 
 4 "The Steel Glas," written 1576, Arber's reprint, London, 
 1868, p. 78. 
 
1 9 2 PIEHS FLOU \VA X. 
 
 Drayton paraphrases part of the last canto ; Milton 
 is famihar with the Visions, and quotes them in his 
 quarrel with Hall, as a proof that his adversary is not 
 the earliest English satirist. In the XVIIIth century 
 Bishop Percy writes an essay, in his " Reliques of 
 Ancient Poetry," on the metre of the poem ; Tyrwhitt 
 identifies several of the allusions ; Warton, in his 
 " History of English Poetry," devotes a whole section 
 to Langland. 
 
 The Visions were first printed in 1550 by Robert 
 Crowley, not without success, for they had three 
 editions the same year ; a fourth edition was published 
 by Owen Rogers in 1561. There was no other edition 
 until our century. Then appeared those of Whitaker, 
 in 1 8 13; of Thomas Wright, in 1842, reprinted in 
 1856 ; and lastly, the excellent editions of Mr. Skeat 
 (London, 1867-84, 4 vols., and Oxford, 1886, 2 vols.), 
 being without comparison the grandest monument 
 raised to the memory of the Visionary. 
 
 II. 
 
 The problem of this life and the next, the contra- 
 dictions and obscurities of which formed the subject of 
 endless meditations for Langland, was studied with 
 passion in the same century throughout the nations 
 of civilised Europe. The subject being identical, the 
 resemblances are numerous between the mystic authors 
 of the different countries, but we should not conclude, 
 owing to those resemblances, that they did nothing but 
 copy each other. Langland, in particular, is one of the 
 most original writers of the group. 
 
LANG LA NHS FAME. 193 
 
 r^ Doubtless, the frame as well as the subject offers, in 
 many cases, singular analogies ; the poet almost invariably 
 treats of a dream and a journey, he falls asleep as in 
 the " Romaunt of the Rose," and travels towards Truth 
 or Dowel, or the Celestial City, as Bunyan's Pilgrim did 
 many years after. In giving to their work the shape of 
 a dream, the mystics conformed to the custom of the 
 time ; and in describing a journey undertaken by their 
 heroes, to a quasi-necessity imposed by the subject itself, 
 there was no need for them to copy their predecessors, ""f.^ 
 
 Thus it happens that similarities might be pointed 
 out, without there being the least attempt at imitation, 
 between Langland and Dante. The Italian, like the 
 English poet, lived, so to speak, wrapped in his visions, 
 absorbed in them, passing years in dreaming and writing 
 them, and accomplishing his awful pilgrimage through 
 the nine circles of hell, and the nine zones of the ex- 
 piatory mount, until he arrived in Paradise. He, too, 
 meets the Seven Deadly Sins ; he wakes, and sleeps 
 again, he dreams new dreams ; he sees a mystical repre- 
 sentation of the events of the Gospel. He judges Papacy 
 with the same severity as Langland will later ; he, too, 
 curses the temporal power of the Pope ; rhe triumphal 
 car of the Church is, in his eyes, transformed to the 
 Beast of the Apocalypse, Both accept the legend 
 according to which Trajan was saved ; both refuse 
 to admit that the great men of antiquity are in- 
 discriminately cast into hell. Dante places them — 
 Socrates, Plato, and even " hawk-eyed " Caesar — in his 
 first circle, which resembles Limbo ; Langland protests 
 against the idea of Aristotle being damned.' "You 
 
 ' "Inferno" iv. ; " Piers Plowman," B. x. 383. 
 
194 PIERS PLOWAIAN. 
 
 vainly search in the 'Inferno' for the place where the 
 souls of irregular Christians suffer ; I mean those who 
 have neglected their devotional or sacramental duties, 
 and failed to accomplish the good works prescribed 
 by the Church." ' Likewise, in the English poem, 
 Trajan is saved, though a " Sarasene " ; " Syngyng of 
 masses," telling of beads had nothing to do with it, 
 nor " preyere of a pope"; he was saved because of 
 his " lyvyng in treuthe." Such is his own account of 
 his fate : 
 
 . . . "Wyth-outcn any bedc-byddyngc . . . 
 And I saved, as ye may se * with-oute syngyng of masses ; 
 By love and by lernynge • of my lyvyng in treuthe, 
 Broughte me fro bitter peyne • there no biddyng myghte." 
 — Lo, ye lordes, what leute (uprightness) did ■ by an cm- 
 
 peroure of Rome, 
 That was an uncrystene creature ' as clerkes fyndcth in bokes. 
 Nought thorw preyere of a pope ■ but for his jiure treuthe 
 Was that Sarasene saved, ^ 
 
 We are again reminded of Dante when, in the 
 Visions, Holy-Church leads the poet who questions her 
 and asks : Who is this one ? " What is this womman ? " 
 may I talk to her? 
 
 "Kenne me bi somme crafte • to knowe the Fals." 
 
 — "Loke uppon thi left half* and lo where he standcth." . . . 
 
 I loked on my left half" as the lady me taughte. 
 
 And was war of a womman • wortheli yclothed . . . 
 
 "What is this womman," quod !• "so worthily atired?"3 
 
 It seems as if we were hearing an echo of the dialogues 
 between the Florentine and the Mantuan, But, in reality, 
 the analogy of the subject and the casual similarity of 
 
 ' Gebhart, "L'ltalie mystique," 1893, p. 324. 
 
 2 B. xi. 144. 3 B. ii. 4 et seq. 
 
LANGLANUS FAME. 195 
 
 the two poets' mood are the only reasons why they 
 appear sometimes purposely to follow the same path. 
 
 It would have been possible for Langland to become 
 acquainted with the works of earlier mystics who had 
 written in Latin. He does not seem to have borrowed 
 much from them. He undoubtedly knew one of them, 
 the most celebrated of all, St. Francis o'i Assisi. He 
 not only names him, but he borrows from him, as it 
 seems, the proverb by which the saint recommended 
 his followers to eat whatever was offered them, were it 
 even very good : " Necessitas non habet legem." — " Nede 
 ne hath no lawe," observes Langland, who goes on to 
 evolve from the saying rules concerning the question of 
 food and raiment. ^ But nothing resembles the universal 
 benevolence and gentleness of the saint less than the 
 bitterness and the sneers of the English poet, whose 
 optimism is mingled with such keen hatreds. 
 
 The distance is no less great, but for another reason, 
 between Langland and the apostle of the " Eternal 
 Gospel," Joachim de Flora, another dreamer and lover 
 of solitude, who had spent in his childhood " long 
 hours in prayer, lying on a large stone in an arbour, 
 under the shade of vine leaves," like Langland under 
 the linden trees of Malvern. But, differing in this 
 from the English poet, who " cleps us alle," Joachim, 
 " instead of enlarging the church in order to admit all 
 the faithful, closed the nave to the multitude, and 
 only left space for a few saints to kneel under the 
 lamp that burned before the altar." 2 
 
 ^ B. XX. 10. 
 
 2 Gebhart, "L'ltalie mystique," pp. 64, 81. Joachim died 1202 ; 
 St. Francis, 1226. 
 
1 9 6 FIERS PL O WAfAN. 
 
 "jC Langland, like nearly all the authors of his time, 
 borrows the idea of his dream from the *' Roman de 
 la Rose." He avails himself of the popularity which 
 the " Roman " had secured for abstract personages. He 
 borrows tools and brushes from the workshop of Lorris 
 and Meun, but he uses them to paint a quite dissimilar 
 picture ; even when he has to denounce the same abuses 
 and to express the same ideas, there remain profound 
 differences in tone and feeling. Jean de Meun will 
 often sneer for the sake of sneering. Langland never 
 does ; he would consider it monstrous. He wants to 
 convert us ; if we feel the sharp sting of his raillery, 
 well and good, but such is not his aim. In the company 
 of Jean, if we are converted, well and good, but the 
 poet will remain perfectly satisfied, in many cases, and 
 very pleased, if he perceives that the cleverness of his 
 satire has been fully enjoyed. Guillaume de Lorris 
 seeks the flower of love, hard of access, and nearly 
 impossible to grasp. The object of Langland's efforts 
 is as difficult to reach, but of a different nature ; and 
 the dreamer sadly contemplates from the summit of his 
 hills the far-off tower where Truth is imprisoned.' ^ 
 
 Curious resemblances might be pointed out between 
 Langland and several other French poets of the period, 
 but the differences in tone and feeling would again be 
 very great. In another respect, also, and a most im- 
 portant one, the Visions would be found unique : all the 
 mediasval dreamers, be they French, Italian, or EngHsh, be 
 they named Lorris, Rutebeuf, Dante, Chaucer, or Gower, 
 
 ' See above, pp. 136, 138, 146, 149, 179, concerning the re- 
 semblances between the Visions and the place in the " Romaunt 
 of the Rose " where " Fals-Semblant his sermon biganne." 
 
LANGLANU S FAME. 197 
 
 are the heroes of their own visions ; they are themselves 
 the pilgrims of their dreamt-of pilgrimages, the visitors 
 of their Houses of Fame, the penitents of their confes- 
 sions of a lover. None of them chose a hero summing 
 up his ideal of what a man should be, and offering a 
 telling contrast with the only too human frailties of the 
 author himself No poet in France took Jacques Bon- 
 homme for the subject of mystic visions ; no other 
 Englishman, not even Bunyan, gave to another Plow- 
 man the first place in his work. In this, as in the 
 other cases before mentioned, Langland showed himself 
 the better artist, though in reality no artist at all ; by 
 dint merely of his sincerity and honesty, he shaped for 
 his Visions a better frame than any (Dante excepted) 
 of the dreamers of his day, with all their talent, know- 
 ledge, and manifold gifts. 
 
 Kutebeuf, in the foregoing century, had come forward 
 as the hero of a " Voyage de Paradis," which offers 
 many points of comparison with Langland (and with 
 Bunyan too). It -is a " voyage " in a dream, under- 
 taken, as usual, in spring-time, when blue and yellow 
 flowers begin to bloom, and the peasant resumes the 
 tilling of his field ; the time when, 
 
 De fleurs s'enorgueillit la terre 
 Et se couvre de fleurs diverses, 
 De bleues, de jaunes, de perses ; 
 Le prudhomme, en voyant le jour, 
 Retourne travaillcr son champ. 
 
 The poet then starts on a most troublesome jour- 
 ney, in which he meets the Seven Deadly Sins, who are 
 described all and each, Gloton being very friendly with 
 
198 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 the tavern-keeper " Hasard." The traveller is comforted 
 by a " prudhomme," whose name he asks : " My name 
 is Pity, he said. — Pity ? said I, what a fine name ! 
 — Yes, it is, but my fame is small, and diminishes 
 every day." Rutebeuf reaches, at the end, the town of 
 Repentance, whose marvels he would be scarcely able 
 to unfold, had he "as many tongues as he has teeth." ^ 
 Resemblances and differences of the same sort might 
 be discovered, in many other " Songes," or dreams, and 
 in those " Bibles," in which were described at great 
 length (and without the talent of a Rutebeuf), the vices 
 "du siecle puant et horrible."- But it will be doubtless 
 sufficient to draw attention to one more French poem, 
 chosen for the twofold reason that it was very popular 
 both in England and in France, and that Langland has 
 possibly borrowed something from it. 
 
 This work was the then celebrated poem of Guil- 
 
 aume de Degaileville,3 who died about 1360, and who 
 
 wrote, between 1330 and 1335, his " Pelerinage de 
 
 la Vie humaine," followed by the " Pelerinage de 
 
 I'Ame " and the " Pelerinage de Jesus Christ." Chaucer 
 
 ' Clcdat, "Rutebeuf," Paris, 1891, chap. vi. "Collection dcs 
 Grands Ecrivains Fran^ais." 
 
 ^ Beginning of the Bible of Guyot de Provins (Xlllth century) 
 in Barbazan and Mcon, vol. ii. Guyot is as hard as Langland in 
 his judgments on Rome: "Rome nos suce et nos englot." See 
 also the Vision of Huon de Meri, called " Le Tournoiement de 
 TAntechrist," 1235, ed. Wimmer, 1888. The tone of such works, 
 however, accords much more with Gower's poems than with Lang- 
 land's Visions. 
 
 3 His surname is so spelt in an acrostic to be found in one of his 
 poems (See MS. fr. 9196, fol. 92, in the National Library, Paris). 
 The village from which he derived it is called to-day Digulleville. 
 
UEGUILEVILLE, ASLEEP IN HIS BED, DREAMS OF A " PELERINAGE I)E LA VIE HUMAINE. 
 JUS. 22Q37 in the British Museum. 
 
LANGLANDS FAME. 199 
 
 was well acquainted with this author, for he translated 
 his prayer to the Virgin, or the " A. B. C." The 
 " Pilgrimage of Human Life " was done into English 
 several times, both in prose and verse ; one of these 
 translations was the work of Lydgate, who wrote it in 
 1426, at the request of Thomas Montacute, Earl of Salis- 
 bury. There exist many manuscripts of these English 
 versions, some of which are curiously illustrated. ^ 
 H- Monk though he was, Deguileville had read the 
 " Roman de la Rose " in his convent. This worldly 
 work inspired him with the idea of writing one on the 
 same plan, but more serious : " I had read, of an even- 
 ing, and pondered over, the beautiful Romaunt of the 
 Rose. Well do I believe that this was the cause that 
 induced me to dream the dream that I am about to 
 unfold."- He falls asleep; a very sound sleep as 
 appears from the accompanying picture. In his sleep 
 he beholds a pilgrim starting on the search for the 
 
 ^ Specimens of the miniatures and large extracts from both the 
 English and French versions of the poem (these last, however, derived 
 from the corrupt texts printed at the time of the Renaissance) will 
 be found in " The ancient poem of Guillaume de Guileville . . . 
 compared with the Pilgrim's Progress of J. Bunyan," by N. Hill, 
 London, 1858, 410. Some of the miniatures are reproduced here, 
 pp. 94, 134, 198, 200, 202, from MS. Cot. Tib. A. vii., containing 
 Lydgate's translation, and MS. 22937, containing the "Pclerinage" 
 in French. 
 
 ^ En veillant avoye leu, 
 
 Considere et bien veu 
 
 Le biaus Roumans dc la Rose. 
 
 Bien croy que ce fu la chose 
 
 Qui plus m'esmut a ce songicr 
 
 Oue ci apres vous vueil nontier. 
 P. Paris, " Manuscrits Fran9ais," vol. iii. p. 242. 
 
200 PIERS FLO IVMAIt 
 
 Celestial City, assisted on his journey by Grace-of-God. 
 On the way, the pilgrim meets several of those personi- 
 fied abstractions which figure also in Langland's poem : 
 Penitence, Charity, Nature, Gluttony, Avarice, Wrath, 
 &c. All of them, as they do in the English visionary's 
 poem, show themselves ever ready to talk and to preach 
 long sermons/^ " I am," says Penitence, " the beautiful 
 but little loved one," ..." I," says Charity, " am the 
 mother of all virtues, she who clothes the naked." ^ 
 The comparative merits of Active and Idle Life are 
 discussed, as they are in Langland. Active Life is re- 
 presented by an honest workman who plies the most 
 modest of crafts ; he is by trade a mat-maker : " Every- 
 body cannot be a goldsmith or a money-changer." 2 
 Lady Oiseuse is of as charming a nature as Lady Meed. 
 We behold her sitting on the left, playing with her 
 hands, busy doing nothing, turning her glove this way 
 and then that way, round her finger. She visibly cares 
 as little as possible for spinning, sewing, or, in fact, 
 doing any work whatever. 3 
 
 ' Je suy la belle po amcc . . . 
 
 Je suy la mere des vertus, 
 
 Cello qui revest les gens nus. 
 MS. fr. 823, in the National Library, Paris, fol. 15 and 17. 
 - Chacun ne puet pas forger 
 
 Couronnes d'or ou I'or changer. 
 
 (fol +6.) 
 3 A la senestre se seoit 
 
 Sur un perron et s'acoutoit (accoudait) 
 
 Une gentille damoiselle, 
 
 Qui, une main dessoubz I'aisselle, 
 
 Avoit, et [dedans] I'autre un gant 
 ■ Tenoit, dont bien s'aloit jouant ; 
 
DEGUILEVILLE DECIDES TO WRITE HIS DREAM 
 MS. 22937 in the British Muuum. 
 
LANGLANUS FAME. 201 
 
 When she happens to show some signs of activity, 
 you may be sure it will be that she finds it is time for her 
 to tire her hair, to bathe, and admire herself in a mirror. 
 She reads romances, she tells stories, she, too, makes 
 herself all things to all men. " I am," she informs the 
 pilgrim, called " Oiseuse, the sweet, tender one; I had 
 far rather put on my gloves, comb my hair, wash my 
 body, than do any other sort of thing." She is busy 
 on Sundays reading romances and vain tales ; ^ she 
 delights in all those worthless idlers, jugglers, tumblers, 
 japers, ballad-mongers, whom Langland never ceases 
 to pillory in his verses. She " takes people to the 
 greenwood to pluck violets and gather nuts." She 
 brings them to places of delight, where songs and 
 ballads and roundels will be heard to the accompani- 
 ment of the harps' and organs' sweet sound. They 
 
 Entour son doy le demenoit 
 Et le tournoit et retournoit. 
 A sa contenance bien vi 
 Que n'estoit pas de grand soussi, 
 Que po le challoit (sc souciait) de filler, 
 Ne des aguilles enfiller 
 Ne de nul autre labour faire. 
 ' ... Si suy nommee 
 
 Oiseuse la tendre sucree, 
 Mieux aime mes gants enformer 
 Et moy pingnier et moy laver, 
 Moy regarder en un mirour 
 Que je ne fais autre labour. 
 Je songe testes et dymenches 
 Pour lire aucunes fois clenches (arguments) 
 Et les faire voir ressembler, 
 Pour raconter trufFes et fables 
 Rommans et choses men^ongables. 
 
 (Same MS., fol. 48.) 
 
202 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 play chess and dice ; jugglers and conjurors perform 
 their choicest tricks. ^ 
 
 The pilgrim then meets Youth, Fortune and " Glad- 
 nesse of the World." Then appear, as in " Piers Plow- 
 man," the doleflil images of Poverty, Infirmity, Old-Age, 
 forerunners of Death. They stretch the pilgrim on his 
 couch ; Prayer comes to his assistance, Death strikes him, 
 and the poet awakes to the sound of his convent's bells. 
 
 A much greater religious enthusiasm and a stronger 
 passion for moral reforms are displayed by the German 
 mystics of the XlVth century ; they come very near the 
 border of hallucinations and mental diseases ; some 
 among their number cross the border line, and become, 
 as Langland would have said, " frantyk of wittes." The 
 result is, this time, resemblance o^ tone as well as subject 
 between these mystics and Langland. But, as the lan- 
 guage in which most of them wrote, precludes all idea 
 of direct imitation, we can only conclude from such 
 resemblances that Germans and English represent the 
 same mvstic movement. 
 
 Je maine la gent au vert bois 
 Cueillir violetes et nois, 
 Je les maine aux lieus de dclit 
 D'esbatemens et de dcduit, 
 Et la leur fais oir chansons, 
 Rondiaux, balades et doulz sons 
 De harpes et de simphonies 
 D'orgues et d'autres sonneries; 
 La leur fais ouir vieleurs, 
 Gicux de batiaux ct dc jongleurs, 
 Gieux de tables et d'eschequicr, 
 Dc drinquet et de mereliers, 
 De dez et d'entregecterie. 
 Et de mainte autre muserie. 
 
 (Ibid., fol. 46, 48.) 
 
LANGLANU S FAME. 203 
 
 This movement was particularly intense in the 
 valley of the Rhine, at Cologne and Strasbourg; and 
 its ramifications extended into the Netherlands, Switzer- 
 land and Bavaria. 
 
 As early as the Xllth and XII Ith centuries, "beguin- 
 ages " had been instituted in the Netherlands and in 
 Germany, in which members of the laity, frequently 
 belonging to noble and well-to-do families, united for 
 the purpose of leading pious lives, without binding 
 themselves by religious vows. Beguinages also existed 
 in England. The ladies for whom the " Ancren 
 Riwle " was written in the Xlllth century led the life 
 of beguines at Tarrant-Kaines, Dorsetshire. i Such 
 contemplatists were predisposed by their manner of 
 life to ecstasies, visions, and every sort of mystical 
 accidents. Thus it was that the sect of the " Free 
 Spirit" found numerous adherents among them.- 
 
 The result of being so completely absorbed in the 
 love of God, was that the adepts of the " Free Spirit " 
 gradually became pure pantheists, and were condemned 
 as such. In their case, at the same time, was shown 
 how extremes meet, for their superhuman doctrine lost 
 itself in gross observances ; never had the angel and 
 the brute been more closely united. " Man,'* they 
 declared, " when he has reached the highest state of 
 
 ' "The Ancren Riwlc," ed. J. Morton, London, Camden 
 Society, 1853, 4'^o- 
 
 '^ Concerning the sect of the " Free Spirit " and the way in 
 which it spread during the XJIIth century, see W. Preger, " Ges- 
 chichtc der deutschen Mystik," Leipzig, 1874, 2 vols. 8vo, bk. ii. 
 chap. ii. 6. A list of the heresies of the sect will be found in the 
 appendix of vol. i. p. 461. See also Jundt, " Histoire du Pan- 
 theisme populaire," Paris, 1875, 8vo. 
 
 14 
 
204 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 perfection, should neither fast nor pray, for his senses 
 are then so completely dominated by reason, that he 
 can, in all liberty, grant his body whatsoever he pleases. 
 . . . Those who live in this state of perfection and 
 are animated by the Spirit of God, are no longer 
 subject to any ecclesiastical precept, for where reigns 
 the Spirit of God, there is also liberty. To exercise 
 one's self in the practice of virtues is the sign of an 
 imperfect man, the perfect soul dismisses all virtues." 
 The virtue of chastity in particular was first dismissed, 
 and rarely recalled. " The adepts had built for them- 
 selves a subterranean place of meeting that they called 
 Paradise. . . . They celebrated their worship there 
 in a state of absolute nudity, thus symbolising their 
 return to the state of innocence of Adam and Eve in 
 the garden of Eden." ' They were fast approaching 
 insanity. 
 
 With many of them, heretical and pantheistical 
 propositions abounded, and, on this account, a great 
 number of the adherents of the sect were drowned in 
 the Rhine, burnt, or put to death by the sword.- One 
 of their tenets was that God is "all that exists," " Deus 
 est formaliter omne." In consequence, God is in all 
 bread as well as in the bread of the Eucharist ; " every 
 honest layman can consecrate the elements." Hell 
 there is none ; after death we shall be absorbed in God. 
 
 ^ A. Jundt, " Histoire du Panthcisme populaire," pp. 31, 54. 
 
 - Here are some examples of their heretical propositions; they 
 maintain " quod homo unitus Deo peccare non possit. . . . Quod 
 nihil sit peccatum nisi quod reputatur peccatum. . . . Quod quic- 
 quid faciunt homines, ex Dei ordinatione faciunt. . . . Oscula 
 virorum et mulierum solutorum non esse peccatum. . . . Animam 
 esse de substantia Dei." W. Preger, ibid., pp. 463 et scq. 
 
LANGLANUS FAME. 205 
 
 *' No one will be damned ; neither the Jews nor the 
 Saracens, because after death their spirit will be lost 
 in God." Eckhart, who did not, howeygr, strictly 
 belong to the sect, teaches that " God alone exists, and 
 that the world has no reality in itself." According to 
 him " the soul is absorbed in God, as the glimmerings 
 of dawn are absorbed in the rays of the morning when 
 the sun appears." ^ 
 
 His pupil Catherine is transported into heaven ; 
 her soul melts ; her reason melts too. " She exclaims : 
 Rejoice with me, I have become God. Seated in the 
 darkest corner of the church, she passes whole days in 
 the enjoyment of feeling her soul absorbed in God ; 
 she gives no signs of life ; . . . she finds her delight in 
 being an object of aversion and scorn for the outer 
 world." - This kind of happiness was familiar to Lang- 
 land, who also allowed himself to be taken for a madman. 
 
 Other groups form themselves, differing in certain 
 points, but resembling each other on the common 
 ground of mystic enthusiasm. They possess, besides, 
 so many theories in common, that it is often difficult 
 to discern w^here one ends and the other begins. The 
 most curious of all, owing to the similarities to Lang- 
 land it offers, is that group of visionaries, prophets, 
 and prophetesses which reckoned among its members, 
 as early as the Xllth century, a number of saints and 
 a number of madmen, and whose most celebrated 
 
 ^ Letter of John of Ochsenstein, in Jundt, ibid., p. 52. Some 
 ■of their heretical (but not pantheistical) propositions resemble 
 Wyclifs teachings. Hence the easy success won by Wyclif's 
 doctrines in Bohemia, where the adepts of the Free Spirit, 
 Beghards and Adamites were at a time very numerous. 
 
 2 Jundt, ibid., pp. 52, 89, 93. 
 
2o6 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 representative, in the XlVth century, was the Stras- 
 bourg banker, Rulman Merswin. 
 
 The members of this mystic family have, like the 
 others, a superhuman ideal of life ; they are struck by 
 the calamities of their time, pestilences, storms and 
 hurricanes ; by the destruction of the town of Basel in 
 1356. The vengeance of God is nigh ; the mystics 
 commune with heavenly powers and with their own 
 souls ; they break with the world ; the world retaliates 
 by calling them maniacs, and there is often some truth 
 in this judgment. They indite prophecies in apocalyptic 
 style ; they have visions and ecstasies : for most of 
 them these visions are their real life, and this life in 
 dream appears to them so far superior to any earthly 
 one, that they are irresistibly impelled to write and 
 relate their experiences. They resist from modesty, 
 but this resistance makes them suffer, and they at last 
 give in ; they take their pen, and under the form of 
 poems, visions, and incoherent treatises, write a moral 
 autobiography ; and thus feel relieved. They begin 
 again, and add new visions to the old ones, relate their 
 journeyings through the abstract lands of ethics ; and, in 
 short, think and act very much like our English dreamer. 
 
 To this mystic family belong, though differing in many 
 respects the one from the other, St. Hildegard, who 
 died in 1178, and "first initiated the great apocalyptic 
 movement in the Middle Ages ; " ^ St. Elizabeth of 
 Schoenau, in the same century, who kept in Latin a sort 
 of journal of her visions, day by day and hour by hour, 
 
 ' " Rulman Merswin ct I'Ami dc Dieu de I'Oberland," by A. 
 Jundt, Paris, 1890, 8vo, p. 6. Works in Migne's "Patrologic," vol. 
 cxcvii. 
 
LANGLANUS FAME. 207 
 
 and described the triple series of three ways leading 
 to God. I Her aim is the same as Langland's, but the 
 three ways have nothing in common with Dowel, Dobet, 
 and Dobest. In the first series, one is blue, one green, 
 and one purple, and they signify contemplative life, 
 active life, and martyrdom.- In the XlVth century, 
 the beguine Matilda of Magdeburg, who writes in 
 German, announces the speedy coming of Antichrist ; 
 her fame spreads to foreign lands, and, as a supreme 
 honour, she figures in Dante's trilogy. She is that 
 Matelda who leads the Florentine to the earthly para- 
 dise, pending the time when Beatrice will conduct him 
 to the heavenly mansions. 3 To the same spiritual 
 lineage belong, among many others, Henry Suso, who 
 died in 1366, who had visions and ecstasies, was torn 
 by doubts, and wrote his moral autobiography ; •+ 
 Rulman Merswin, whose " conversion " took place in 
 1347 ; and the whole group of the " Friends of God." 
 
 ^ " Liber Visionum." F. W. Roth, " Die Visionen und Briefe 
 der hi. Elisabeth . . . von Schonau," Briinn, 1886, 8vo. 
 
 2 "Ego Elisabeth vidi in visione spiritus mei montem excelsum 
 copioso lumine in summo illustratum, et quasi vias tres a radice ejus 
 ad cacumen usque porrectas. Ouarum una que media erat in 
 directum mihi opposita, speciem habebat sereni celi, sive lapidis 
 iacentini, que vero a dextris meis erat, viridis apparebat, et que a 
 sinistris purpurea. Stabat autem in vertice montis contra viam 
 mediam vir quidam insignis, tunica iacentina indutus. . . . Facies 
 ejus splendida erat ut sol . . . habebat autem in ore suo gladium." 
 "Liber viarum Dei," Roth, ibid , p. 88. 
 
 3 Identified by M. Preger. 
 
 •♦ Preger, ibid., vol. ii. bk. ii. At the beginning of the same cen- 
 tury lived Matilda of Hakeborn and Gertrud, whose " Revelations" 
 have been published by the Benedictines of Solesmes : "Revela- 
 tiones Gertrudianae ac Mechtildianas," Paris, 1875-7, ■^ vols. 8vo. 
 
2o8 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 " Conversion " is another common trait in the moral 
 biography of nearly all mystics. A voice from on 
 high suddenly orders them to return to God, and they 
 obey, sometimes with backslidings, which, hov/ever, are 
 followed by spiritual reactions. This was the case with 
 Langland and with all the English who, from century 
 to century, fell a prey to mysticism : Rolle of Ham- 
 pole, Fox the Quaker, Wesley, &c. Their " witte wex 
 and wanyed," ^ as Langland said of the ebb and flow 
 of his own thoughts. Merswin, without entering 
 a religious order, renounces the world, suffers horrible 
 temptations, and approaches the verge of madness, 
 exactly like Rolle of Hampole, his English contem- 
 porary. "I feared more than once," says he himself, "to 
 be wandering in my mind ; " - he is assailed by doubts ; 
 like St. Hildegard, he wishes not to write, but is at 
 last obliged to. Langland also wrote, because he was 
 unable to refrain from so doing ; he braved the raillery 
 of Ymagynatyf, who assured him that there was no need 
 in this world for one book more : " there ar bokes 
 ynowe." 3 Merswin wrote several works in German 
 prose, some under his own name, others attributed by 
 him to a mysterious " Friend of God in the Oberland," 
 with whom he pretended to keep up a secret corre- 
 spondence. After much trouble, and after medical 
 science had come to the assistance of history, it has 
 been recently proved that the Friend of God never 
 existed at all, being a pure creation of Merswin's diseased 
 brain, an extreme example of " dedoublement de la per- 
 
 ^ B. XV. 3. 
 
 ^ Jundt, " Rulman Merswin," ibid., p. 19. 
 3 B. xii. 17. 
 
LANGLANHS FAME. 209 
 
 sonnalite " (duplication of the personality). ^ Merswin, 
 though he composed himself, and transcribed in a hand- 
 writing and dialect different from his own, the treatises 
 which he gave out as being the work of the Friend of 
 God, believed in his creation, as madmen believe in their 
 dreams. The Friend of God is his Piers Plowman ; 
 only his morbidness far exceeds Langland's.- 
 
 Views and propositions closely resembling those of 
 the English visionary abound in Merswin's work, and 
 are the result of a similar state of mind and of like 
 anxieties. Many of them are to be found in his 
 " History of my Conversion," in the '* Book of the 
 Three Stages of Spiritual Life," the subject of which 
 is the " beginning, growth and ultimate end of mystic 
 life," bearing some analogy to Dowel, Dobet, and 
 Dobest. The history of " Two Youths of Fifteen " 
 recommends " a golden mean between luxury and 
 austerity." In the " Spiritual Stairway," a wide garden 
 is described ; " this garden is the world " ; laymen and 
 
 ' The non-existence of the "Friend of God" has been placed 
 beyond doubt by Father Denifle. The sincere belief Merswin 
 had, however, in this invention of his fancy, has been proved in 
 the most ingenious manner by Jundt, ibid., pp. 93 et seq. 
 
 ^ Many among these mystics fell, owing to their own practices, 
 and especially by an excessive use of "abnegation," into now 
 well-known diseases of the will. " Abnegation " is recommended 
 by one of them, as follows : — " Haec autem proprise voluntatis 
 abnegnatio sive resignatio . . . hominem sine electionem hujus aut 
 illius in agendo aut omittendo ad Dei honorem juxta superiorum 
 voluntatem, omniumque bonorum hominum quibuscum vivit con- 
 silium, cum vera discretione vivere facit" ("D. Joannis Rusbroechii 
 . . . Opera omnia," Cologne, 1562, fol.; " De prEecipibus quibus- 
 dam virtutibus Libellus," chap. iii.). Ruysbroek lived in the XlVth 
 century. 
 
2 1 o PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 monks meet in this '* feir feld ful of folk," as Lang- 
 land would have termed it. The heio of the " Master's 
 Book" is a mystic preacher, so torn by doubt that "his 
 brain becomes diseased " ; he is " exposed to the scorn 
 of his friends." In the *' Book of the Nine Rocks " are 
 depicted the woes and vices of the time : " Open thy 
 eyes, and see how the popes live nowadays," bishops, 
 too, with their wars and intrigues, clerks, confessors, 
 they of the easy penance and pleasant absolution, nuns, 
 secular clerks fond of good meals, kings, burghers, 
 merchants, craftsmen, and peasants. Jews and Saracens 
 are judged as leniently as they are by Langland ; both 
 stand a chance of being saved. 
 
 Such are the ideas propagated throughout the 
 countries where the G:rman language is spoken, by 
 the converted banker Rulman Merswin, from the 
 '' Green Island " cloister, outside Strasbourg, where he 
 had retired.' The " Book of the Nine Rocks," says 
 his principal commentator, " miy justly be called the 
 mystic apocalypse of the XlVth century," It may, 
 or rather might be, had we not the Visions of Piers 
 Plowman. 
 
 ' Particulars about Merswin, tlic text of several of his treatises, 
 and facsimiles of his handwriting, when he writes in his own person 
 as well as when he takes pen for the Friend of God, will be found 
 in: Jundt, "Rulman Merswin," 1890 ; " Les Amis de Dieu au 
 XIV^ Siecle," Paris, 1879, 8vo ; Ch. Schmidt, "Precis de I'histoire 
 de I'Eglise d'occident pendant le moycn age," Paris, 1885, 8vo, 
 pp. 302 et seq; W, Preger, " Geschichte der deutschen Mystik 
 im Mittelalter," Leipzig, 1874. The works attributed to the 
 Friend of God of the Oberland have been published by Schmidt 
 under the (mistaken) title, "Nicolaus von Basel Leben und aus- 
 gewiihlte Schriften," Vienna, 1886. 
 
LANGL AND'S FAME. 2 1 1 
 
 III. 
 
 In spite of these resemblances, so long as the con- 
 trary has not been established by material proof, we 
 must hold that there was between Langland and 
 Merswin a simih'tude of aim, and up to a certain point 
 of manner too, but no direct imitation. Common ties 
 existed between them, which arose from the parity of 
 their mystic tastes. Others might be found, were we 
 to revert to the distant origin of races, in the time 
 when the Valkyrias crossed the sky of the Germans 
 and Saxons, and when warriors of both nations met in 
 their common paradise, the Valhalla of Odin. 
 
 Certain it is that, if resemblances can be traced be- 
 tween Langland and several authors belonging to the 
 Latin races, they are infinitely closer and more numerous 
 with the Spiritualists of Germanic origin. In the latter 
 case, analogies stand unchecked, and unaccompanied 
 with those strong and irreducible differences which strike 
 the reader when he considers southern mystics. We 
 find, for instance, no trace in Langland of those classic 
 sympathies with which Dante's writings are impreg- 
 nated. Never, assuredly, would it occur to our visionary 
 rhat when approaching the threshold of God's paradise, 
 the thing to say is : " Apollo ! now that the hour has 
 come for the last of my tasks, fill me with the breath 
 of thy inspiration. Up to this, the help of the Muses 
 of Parnassus has been sufficient ; thine now I must 
 have. . . . Come into my breast, and may I feel 
 conscious of thy presence as Marsyas did, when thou 
 drewest his body from the sheath that covered it ! " ' 
 
 ' "Paradise," canto i. 
 
2 1 2 PIERS FLO]] 'MAN. 
 
 And on the other hand, nothing in the French con- 
 temporaries of Langland equals the passion and 
 ceaseless fever by which his thoughts are animated, 
 and sometimes inflamed, and sometimes obscured. 
 
 Closer resemblances, and no such glaring discre- 
 pancies, are to be found in Germanic or Anglo-Saxon 
 literature, or in the succession of mystics, continued 
 in England, from century to century, up to our time. 
 
 The christianised Anglo-Saxons retained, during 
 nearly the whole period previous to the Norman Con- 
 quest, the impetuosity and enthusiasm of their pagan 
 ancestors ; they suffered from the same fits of depres- 
 sion and despair ; then followed periods of " aboulie " 
 (absent volition), during which they fell an easy prey 
 to any enemy who chanced to attack them. They 
 celebrate the glory of Christ's apostles with the same 
 fiery spirit with which they formerly sang the deeds 
 of Odin. They excel in depicting sombre and deso- 
 late scenes ; they are haunted by the thought of 
 death, the charnel-house and the tortures of helL 
 They enjoy the recurrence, at intervals in the midst 
 of their long, sluggish reveries, of short, sharp sayings 
 which, appearing suddenly, illuminate the darkness for 
 a second, like a flash of lightning. Such sayings are 
 found in their poems, in their didactic treatises, in 
 their sermons, and in everything that bears the stamp 
 of their particular genius. 
 
 From time to time after the Conquest, minds are 
 formed in the island, either apart from or in opposi- 
 tion to the world, which seem to have been cast in 
 the Saxonic mould of former days. They are neither 
 imitators nor pupils of each other ; they stand uncon- 
 
> 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 'in § 
 
 < 2 
 
 w 
 
LANG LANDS FAME. 2 1 3 
 
 nected, and look, each in succession, as a spontaneous 
 growth ; but there is between them a strong link, much 
 stronger indeed than imitation or teaching, namely, 
 inherited blood, tendencies, qualities and moods. 
 
 This is the case, for instance, with Rolle of 
 Hampole who died in 1349, who had studied, but 
 who lived in the world and underwent a sudden 
 conversion. He is therefore considered by some as 
 a madman, and by others as a saint. He has visions 
 and ecstasies ; he writes, like Merswin, the account of 
 his moral troubles ; he offers a well-characterised 
 example of duplication of the consciousness. He 
 is visited in his cell and found " writing with great 
 rapidity " ; he is requested to stop writing, and con- 
 verse for the edification of his visitors ; he talks to 
 them, but without ceasing to write very fast, for two 
 hours, and what he wrote differed entirely from what 
 he said. " The Holy Ghost during the whole time 
 directed his hand and his tongue." ^ 
 
 After Rolle, came deists like Lord Herbert of Cher- 
 bury, religious reformers like Fox, Bunyan and Wesley, 
 poets like Cowper, and painters like Blake. Nearly all 
 of them border on madness. Herbert of Cherbury holds 
 familiar intercourse with God, and having written 
 in 1624 a book in which he denied the inspiration 
 of Scripture, inquires of the Almighty if he had better 
 publish his work. He wants a sign from above, so 
 that he may be sure that, whether or not the Bible is 
 an inspired book, his own is. The event proved that 
 
 ' G. Perry, "English Prose Treatises of Richard Rolle of 
 Hampole," London, Early English Text Society, 1866, 8vo, 
 p. xxii. 
 
2 1 4 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 he had only to ask : *' I had no sooner spoken these 
 words, but a loud though yet gentle noise came from 
 the heavens. . . . This, how strange soever it may 
 seem, I protest before the eternal God is true, neither 
 am I any way superstitiously deceived herein, since I 
 did not only clearly hear the noise, but in the serenest 
 sky that ever I saw, being without all cloud, did to 
 my thinking see the place from whence it came." ' 
 Concluding from this that, if a divine revelation had 
 been refused to the apostles, he for his part was more 
 highly favoured, he printed his book,- which created 
 a great stir and became the gospel of the deist tribe. 
 
 George Fox, in the same century, after witnessing a 
 tavern broil, felt impelled to leave his friends and retire 
 from society. In 1648 he has his famous revelation 
 on the subject of hats. " The Lord . . . forbad me 
 to put off my hat to any high or low, and I was 
 required to Thee and Thou all men and women, 
 without any respect to rich or poor, great or small. 
 And as I travelled up and down, I was not to bid 
 people Good morning or Good evening, neither might 
 I bow or scrape with my leg to any one : and this 
 made the sects and professions to rage." 3 For this 
 reason he is called mad, as Langland was. Like our 
 visionary, he seeks solitude, a prey to his thoughts. 
 
 ^ "Autobiography," cd. S. L. Lee, London, 1886, p. 249. 
 
 - The famous " De Veritate prout distinguitur a revelatione, a 
 verisimili, a possibili et a false." Paris, 1624 ; London, 1633. 
 
 3 "A journal ... of the life, travels, sufferings, christian ex- 
 periences and labour of love, in the work of the ministry of that 
 ancient, eminent and faithful servant of Jesus-Christ, George Fox." 
 Leeds, 6th ed., 1836, 2 vols. 8vo. 
 
LANGLANUS FAME. 215. 
 
 *' My troubles continued, and I was often under great 
 temptations ; I fasted much, and walked abroad in 
 solitary places many days, and often took my Bible, 
 and sat in hollow trees and lonesome places till night 
 came on ; and frequently in the night, walked mourn- 
 fully about by myself : for I was a man of sorrows in 
 the times of the first workings of the Lord in me." ^ 
 With all his roughness and his refusals to salute any 
 one, he has, at bottom, a tender heart ; no epithet 
 recurs oftener in his writings ; he applies it to all those 
 whom he likes : " I met with a tender people and a 
 very tender woman ; " - when he feels well disposed 
 towards himself, he declares that he is " a tender young 
 man." He gave to the sect he founded the name of 
 " Society of Friends," Quaker being a nickname ; his 
 letters do not begin with "Sir," but with " Friend." 3 
 
 Bunyan, in the same time, experienced similar 
 doubts, and passed through the same moral phases. 
 He was " in the middle of a game of cat," and was 
 about to strike his second blow, when he heard a voice 
 which " did suddenly dart from heaven into his soul 
 and said : Wilt thou leave thy sins and go to heaven, or 
 have thy sins and go to hell } " 4 He is converted, but 
 nevertheless is torn by doubts ; and his doubts are 
 those of Langland : " Could I think that so many 
 
 ' "A journal ... of the life, travels, &c., of George Fox," year 1647. 
 
 ^ Ibid., vol. i. pp. 90, 91. 
 
 3 A letter to the king, however, begins with : " King Charles, 
 thou earnest not. . . ." Ibid., vol. i. p. 524, 
 
 •+ " Grace Abounding " (being Banyan's moral autobiography) in 
 "Entire Works," Stebbing's edition, London, 1859, 4 vols. 4to, 
 vol. i. p. 7. 
 
2 1 6 PIERS FL O WMAN. 
 
 ten thousands, in so many countries and kingdoms, 
 should be without the knowledge of the right way to 
 heaven (if there were indeed a heaven), and that we 
 only, who live in a corner of the earth, should be 
 blessed therewith ? Every one doth think his own 
 religion rightest, both Jews, Moors, and Pagans ; and 
 how if all our faith, and Christ and Scriptures should 
 be but a think-so too ? " ^ He is regarded with sus- 
 picion ; and called " a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman 
 and the like." - Imprisoned in the bridge tower of 
 Bedford, he writes his famous '^Pilgrim's Progress" 
 from the " City of Destruction," and the " Slough of 
 Despond," to the " Golden City." \He sees all this 
 in a dream, like Langland : " As I walked through the 
 wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place 
 where was a Den, and I laid me down in that place to 
 sleep ; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, 
 and behold, I saw a man clothed with rags. . . ." He 
 reaches the celestial city ; he perceives that there is '* a 
 way to hell even from the gates of heaven, as well as 
 from the City of Destruction. — So I awoke, and behold. 
 It was a dream." 3\ 
 
 The life of Wesley and Whitefield, animated in the 
 XVIIIth century, by a spirit both mystic and practical, 
 is all interspersed with visions ; or rather, visions and 
 realities are so closely mingled that it Is impossible 
 to distinguish them. They, for their own part, never 
 attempted to draw a line between the two. Like 
 the mystics of the Middle Ages, they hold inter- 
 
 ' "Grace Abounding," ibid., p. 15. - Ibid., p. 30. 
 
 3 The first edition is of uncertain date ; the second appeared in 
 1678. 
 
"AND BEHOLD, THERE CAME A GREAT WIND FROM THE WILDERNESS. 
 From Blake's Illustrations for the Book of Job. 
 
LANGLANU S FAME. 2 1 7 
 
 course with the Holy Ghost, and teach how others 
 may enjoy a similar favour. " Be therefore, my Lord, 
 much in secret retirement," writes Whitefield, " com- 
 mune with your own heart in your chamber, and be 
 still ; and you will then hear the secret whispers of the 
 Holy Ghost." ^ Whitefield notes the presence of God 
 in certain particular places ; the Master of things listens 
 to some of his sermons, but not to all : " This day, 
 Jesus has enabled me to preach seven times : once in 
 the church, twice at the girls' hospital, and afterwards 
 twice in a private house. . . . Both in the church and 
 park the Lord was v/ith us. The girls in the hospital 
 were excessively affected." - Wesley performs miracles ; 
 he cures a workman who coughed exceedingly. 3 Like 
 the mystics of former times, he is " converted," writes 
 his moral autobiography, and is called insane. " Let not 
 much religion make thee mad," say his friends to him. 
 This spiritual " conversion " is the basis of his entire 
 system ; one cannot without it belong truly to the 
 society of " Methodists " which he founded, and for 
 which he devised a special creed of the most ethereal 
 mysticism.4- 
 
 ' Letter to Lord L., October 26, 1741. " Works," London, 
 1 77 1, 6 vols. 8vo, vol. i. p. 335. 
 
 2 October 27, 1741. "Works," vol. i. p. 337. 
 
 3 "Now, let candid men judge, does humility require me to 
 •deny a notorious fact ? " ("A Plain Account of the People called 
 Methodists," 1748 ; "Works of Wesley," Beecham's edition, iith 
 •ed., London, 1856, 14 vols. i2mo, vol. viii.) Bunyan had only had 
 a temptation to work miracles, but he did not perform them 
 {" Grace Abounding," p. 87). 
 
 4 A creed made up of four tenets, the main of which was that 
 true religion "is nothing short of or different from the mind that 
 
2 1 8 PIERS PL O JVM AN. 
 
 Tender, gentle, sickly Cowper, whose heart ever was 
 the heart of a child, has, in spite of differences arising 
 from his fragile temperament, many points in common 
 with our visionary. This exquisite being. 
 
 Dupe of to-morrow even from a child,' 
 
 bruised and suffering, is so perplexed by the problem 
 of life, as to almost lose his reason. Alternations of 
 faith and doubt shake him so as to bring him to the 
 verge of the grave. For him, the question of an here- 
 after is the sole serious one, and the only problem 
 deserving attention. The matchless badinages we owe 
 to his pen are merely a respite granted to thought 
 weary of labour. 
 
 The same anguish tortures Cowper's contemporary, 
 the painter and poet Blake, who appears to have un- 
 wittingly assigned to himself the task of reproducing 
 in his water-colours and drawings the grand, mysterious 
 figures evoked by our visionary ; we might even say, 
 the figure of Langland himself Were we to search for 
 an embodiment of the idea we form of " Longe Will," 
 we should look for it in the drawings of Blake. 
 
 The poems of Blake appear the simplest in the 
 world ; they treat of the most ordinary subjects ; but 
 suddenly a deeper note, an allusion to hidden sufferings 
 and wounds, reveals to us that we are not in the presence 
 of a shepherd who pipes, but of a prophet who knows. 
 The effect is grand and strange. Placed on the limit 
 of two centuries, and on the boundary line of two 
 
 was in Christ ; the image of God stamped upon the heart ; inward 
 righteousness attended with the peace of God, and joy in the Holy 
 Ghost." "A Plain Account," ibid. 
 
 ' "On the Receipt of my Mother's picture." 
 
'i'ra,f'IH^*"i ^"""^ ' 'ly^tM 
 
 c<».<9t>;^,;,-^f,/-^,r,^s.tg;.^^>^ ---Til-- '-'^^^~"^'- -°— ' ^yr^n^tS 
 
 WHEN THE MORNING STARS SANG TOGETHER AND ALL THE SONS OF GOU 
 
 SHOUTED FOR JOV." 
 
 Front Blake's Illustrations for the Book of Job. 
 
LANG LAND'S FAME. 219 
 
 periods, Blake is the first in date (but the least in 
 genius) of that group of mysterious and symbol-loving 
 poets, amongst whom are to be ranked Shelley, Rossetti 
 and Browning, poets who shiver at the mere idea of the 
 surrounding triviality, universal ease and fluency, stale- 
 ness of th'^ higher sentiments taught by rule in schools, 
 and take refuge, out of scorn and vexation, in a thick- 
 veiled darkness, where they know that ease-loving 
 multitudes will not follow them. They mingle with 
 the crowd, like " Longe Will," saluting no one; and the 
 crowd long remains in ignorance of who they are, or, 
 at most, wonders with an incredulous shake of the head, 
 whether, by any possibility or chance, such men as they 
 belong to the chosen people. 
 
 Langland, though he is, like Chaucer, a true English- 
 man, that is, a blending of the Celto-Latin and Germanic 
 races, had more in him of rhe latter. The English have 
 sprung from the union of these two races, and in most 
 of them, a fusion of the two elements has taken place ; 
 the result being the average English character. But, 
 among those distinguished by a genius rising above the 
 common level, we soon perceive, as a rule, whom they 
 take after. All children of a family have in their veins 
 blood of both parents ; but some resemble the father 
 and others the mother. Langland, in spite of the 
 practical nature of his judgments, belongs most to the 
 race which had the deepest and especially the earliest 
 knowledge of tender, passionate and mystical aspira- 
 tions, and which lent itself most willingly to the 
 lulls and pangs of hope and despair, the race of the 
 Anglo-Saxons. Chaucer represents more the lucid, 
 
 '5 
 
2 2 o PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 energetic, decided, practical race of the latinised Celts, 
 with their love of logic, and fondness for straight lines. 
 They both in their works symbolise, by their light and 
 shadows, and an alternate play of sun and clouds, 
 all that splendid English literature which was dawning 
 before their eyes. 
 
 The day which we have seen bore a resemblance 
 to that morning dawn. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE WRITINGS OF WILLIAM 
 LANGLAND. 
 
 SOME readers will perhaps find it convenient to be supplied 
 with specimens of the poetry of Langland, of greater length 
 than the quotations given above. The following extracts 
 have been chosen from among the passages discussed in the fore- 
 going pages, and will enable the reader to form, independently of 
 these discussions, an idea oi the various moods of our poet, and of 
 the different styles he affects. 
 
 The text of Mr. Skeat's Oxford edition has been followed. 
 
 BEGINNING OF THE VISIONS. 
 
 In a somere seyson • whan softe was the sonne, 
 Y shop me in-to [shroudes] • as y a shepherde were, 
 In abit as an ermite • unholy of werkes, 
 Ich wente forth in the worlde • wonders to hure, 
 And sawc meny cellis • and selcouthe thynges. 
 Ac on a may morwcnyng • on Malverne hulles 
 Me byfel for to slepe • for weyrynesse of wandryng ; 
 And in a launde as ich lay • Icnede ich and slepte, 
 And merveylously me mette • as ich may yow telle ; 
 Al the welthe of this worlde ' and the woo bothe, 
 Wynkyng as it were • wyterly ich saw hyt. 
 Of tryuthe and tricherye • of tresoun and of gyle, 
 Al ich saw slepynge • as ich shal yow telle. 
 Esteward ich byhulde ' after the sonne. 
 And sawe a toure, as ich trowede * Truthe was ther-ynne 
 
2 24 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 Westwarde ich waitede * in a whyle after, 
 
 And sawe a deep dale • Deth as ich lyvede, 
 
 Wonede in tho wones ■ and wyckede spiritus. 
 
 A fair feld ful of folke • fonde ich ther bytwyne, 
 
 Allc manere of men • the mene and the ryche, 
 
 Worchynge and wandrynge • as the worlde asketh. 
 
 Sommc putte hem to plow * and pleiden ful sevlde, 
 
 In settyng and in sowyng • swonken ful harde, 
 
 And wonne that thuse wasters " with glotenye destroyeth. 
 
 Somme putte hem to pruyde • and parailede hem ther-after, . 
 
 In contenaunce and in clothynge * in menv kynne gyse ; 
 
 In praiers and in penaunces • putten hem manye, 
 
 Al for the love of Oure Lorde * lyveden ful harde, 
 
 In hope to have a gode ende • and hevenc-ryche blysse ; 
 
 As ancres and eremites " that holden hem in hure cellys, 
 
 Coveytynge noght in contrees • to carien a-boute 
 
 For no lykerouse lyflode ■ hure lykame to plese. 
 
 And somme chosen cheffare • they chevede the betere. 
 
 As hit semeth to oure syght • that soche men thryvcth. 
 
 And somme murthcs to make • as mynstrals conneth, 
 
 That wollen neyther swynkc ne swete " bote swerv grete othes, 
 
 And fynde up foule fantesyes • and foles hem maken, 
 
 And haven wittc at wylle • to worche yf they wolde. 
 
 That Paul prechith of hem • proven ich myghtc, 
 
 ^i turpiloquium loquitur • ys Lucyfers knave. 
 
 Byddcrs and beggers • faste aboute yoden, 
 
 Tyl hure bagge and hure bely * were bretful ycrammyd, 
 
 Faytynge for hure fode • and fouhten atten ale. 
 
 C. i. I. 
 
 II. 
 
 A PARLIAMEMT OF MICE AND RATONS. 
 
 With that ran there a route • of ratones at ones, 
 And smale mys myd hem • mo then a thousande. 
 And comen to a conseille " for here comune profit ; 
 For a cat of a courte • cam whan hym lyked. 
 And overlepe hem lyghtlich" and lauhte hem at his wille, 
 
A PARLIAMENT OF MICE. 225 
 
 And pleyde with hem perilouslych • and possed hem aboute. 
 " For doute of dyverse dredes • we dar noughte wel loke ; 
 And yif we grucche of his gamen • he wil greve us alle, 
 Cracche us, or clowe us • and in his cloches holde, 
 That us lotheth the lyf ■ or he let us passe. 
 Myghte we with any witte ' his wille withstonde, 
 We myghte be lordes aloft ' and lyven at ovvre ese." 
 
 A raton o'i renon • most renable of tonge, 
 Seide for a sovereygne • help to hym-selve ; — 
 " I have ysein segges," quod he • "in the cite of London 
 Beren bighes ful brighte • abouten here nekkcs, 
 And some colers of crafty werk ;• uncoupled they wenden 
 Both in wareine and in waste • where hem leve lyketh ; 
 And otherwhile thei aren elles-where • as I here telle. 
 Were there a belle on here beigh • bi Jhesu as me thynketh, 
 Men myghte wite where thei went • and awei renne ! 
 And right so," quod that ratoun • " reson me sheweth, 
 To bugge a belle of brasse " or ot brighte sylver, 
 And knitten on a colere • for oure comune profit, 
 And hangen it up-on the cattes hals • thannc here we mowen 
 Where he ritt or rest * or renneth to playe. 
 And yif him list for to laike • thenne loke we mowen, 
 And peren in his presence • ther while hym plaie liketh. 
 And yif him wrattheth, be ywar • and his weye shonye." 
 
 Alle this route of ratones • to this reson thei assented. 
 Ac tho the belle was ybought • and on the beighe hanged, 
 There ne was ratoun in alle the route • for alle the rewme of 
 
 Fraunce, 
 That dorst have ybounden the belle • aboute the cattis nekke, 
 Ne hangen it aboute the cattes hals • al Engelonde to wynne ; 
 And helden hem unhardy • and here conseille feble, 
 And leten here labour lost * and alle here longe studye. 
 
 A mous that moche good " couthe, as me thoughte, 
 Stroke forth sternly • and stode biforn hem alle. 
 And to the route of ratones • reherced these wordes : 
 "Though we culled the catte • yut sholdc ther come another. 
 To cracchyus and al ov/re kynde " though we crope under benches. 
 For-thi I conseille alle the comune ' to lat the catte worthe. 
 And be we never so bolde • the belle hym to shewe ; 
 
2 26 FIEES PLOWMAN. 
 
 For I herde my sire seyn • is sevene yere ypassed, 
 There the catte is a kitoun • the courte is ful elyng ; 
 That witnisseth holiwrite * who-so wil it rede, 
 
 Fc terre ubi puer rex est, etc. 
 For may no renke there rest have • for ratones bi nyghte ; ' 
 The while he caccheth conynges • he coveiteth nought owic 
 
 caroyne, 
 But fet hym al with venesoun • defame we hym nevere. 
 For better is a litel losse * than a longe sorwe, 
 The mase amonge us alle . though we mysse a schrewe. 
 For many mannus malt • we mys wolde destruye, 
 And also ye route of ratones " rende mennes clothes, 
 Nere that cat of that courte • that can yow overlepe : 
 For had ye rattes yowre wille • ye couthe nought reule yowre-selvc. 
 I sey for me," quod the mous " " I se so mykel after, 
 Shal never the cat ne the kitoun • bi my conseille be grcved, 
 Ne carpyng of this coler " that costed me nevre. 
 And though it had coste me catel • biknowen it I nolde. 
 But suffre as hym-self wolde • to do as kym liketh. 
 Coupled and uncoupled * to cacche what thei mowe. 
 For-thi uche a wise wighte I warne " wite wel his owne." 
 
 What this meteles bemeneth ' ye men that be merye, 
 Devine ye, for I ne dar • bi dere God in hevene ! 
 
 B. Prol. 145. 
 
 III. 
 
 LADY MEED AT COURT.— FLIGHT OF HER COMPANIONS. 
 
 The King orders that Meed be brought before him and that her 
 companions be sent to prison : 
 
 " Go atache tho tyrauns • for eny tresour, ich hote. 
 Let feterye fast Falsnesse ' for eny kynnes giftes, 
 And gurd of Gyles hefd • and letc hym go no wyddere, 
 And brynge Mede to me ' maugre hem alle. 
 
 ^ This line is apparently misplaced ; it ought to come, it seems, 
 lower, possibly after the verse : "And also ye route of ratones," 
 &c. 
 
LAD Y MEED AT COURT. 227 
 
 And if yc lacchc Lyerc " let hym nat a-skapie 
 
 Er he be put on the pullery • for eny preier, ich hote ! " 
 
 Drede stod at the dore • and al that duene herde, 
 What the kynges wil was • and wyghtlyche he wente, 
 And bad Falsnesse to flee • and hus feren alle. 
 Falsnesse for fere tho • flegh to the freres, 
 And Gyle dud hym to gon " agast for to deye ; 
 Ac marchauns metten with hym ■ and made hym abyde, 
 And shutten hym in here shoppes • to shewen here ware, 
 And parailed hym lyke here prentys • the puple to serven. 
 Lyghtliche Lyere • lep a-way thennes, 
 Lorkynge thorw lanes • to-logged of menye. 
 He was nawher welcome • for hus meny tales, 
 Over-al houted out * and yhote trusse. 
 Til pardoners hadden pitte ' and pullede hym to house. 
 Thei woshe hym and wypede hym ' and wonde hym in cloutes, 
 And sente hym on sonnedayes • with seeks to churches, 
 And gaf pardon for pans • pound-meel a-boute. 
 Thanne lourede leches • and letters thei senten. 
 That Lyer shold wony with hem* waters to loke. 
 Spicers to hym speke • to aspie here ware. 
 For he can on here crafte * and knoweth meny gommes. 
 Ac mynstrales and messagers • mette with Lyere ones, 
 And with-helde hym half a yere • and elleve dayes. 
 Ac Freres thorw fayre speche • fetten hym thennes ; 
 For knowynge of comers * thei copyde hym as a frere ; 
 Ac he hath leve to lepen out • as ofre as hym lyketh, 
 And ys welcome whanne he cometh " and woneth with hem ofte. 
 Symonye and Cyvyle • senten to Rome, 
 And putte hem thorw a-peles * in the popes grace. 
 Ac Conscience to the kyng • a-cusede hem bothe, 
 And seide, " syre kyng, by Cryst • bothe clerkus amende, 
 Thi kyngdom thorw here covetyse * wol out of kynde wendc. 
 And holy churche thorw hem • worth harmed for evere." 
 Alle fledden for fere • and flowen in-to hemes ; 
 Save Mede the mayde • no mo dorste a-byde. 
 Ac treweliche to telle • hue tremblede for fere, 
 And both wrang and weptc ' whanne hue was a-tached. 
 
 C. iii. 211. 
 
2 2 8 PIERS PL O IV MAN. 
 
 IV. 
 
 MEED AT COURT.— HER SUPPORTERS. 
 
 Meed has been brought to Westminster. While waiting for the 
 King, who is at his council, would-be friends surround Meed : 
 
 And there was myrthe and mynstralcye ' Mede to plese. 
 They that wonyeth in Westmynstre • worschiped hir alle ; 
 Gentelliche with joye • the justices somme 
 Busked hem to the boure • there the bird dwelled, 
 To conforte hire kyndely • by clergise levc, 
 
 And seiden : " Mourne nought, Mede ■ ne make thow no sorwe, 
 For we wil wisse the kynge " and thi wey shape, 
 To be wedded at thi wille • and where the leve liketh. 
 For al Conscience caste " or craf: as I trowe ! " 
 
 Mildeliche Mede thanne • mercyed hem alle 
 Of theire gret goodnesse • and gaf hem uchone 
 Coupes of clene golde ' and coppis of silver, 
 Rynges with rubies ' and ricchesses manye. 
 The leste man of here meyne • a motoun of golde. 
 Thanne lauhte thei leve • this lordes, at Mede. 
 
 With that comen clerkis • to conforte hir the same. 
 And bcdcn hir be blithe • " for \vc bcth thine owne. 
 For to worchc thi wille • the while thow myghte laste." 
 Hendeliche heo thanne ' bihight hem the same, 
 To "love you lelli • and lordes to make, 
 And in the consistorie atte courtc " do calle yowre names ; 
 Shal no lewdnesse lette • the leodc that I lovye. 
 That he ne worth first avanced • for I am biknowen 
 Ther konnyng clerkes • shul clokke bihynde." 
 
 Thanne come there a confessoure' coped as a frcre, 
 To Mede the mayde * he mellud his wordes, 
 And seide ful softly" in shrittc as it were, 
 "Theigh lewed men and Icred men • had leyne by the bothe. 
 And falscnesse haved yfolwed the ' al this fyfty wyntre, 
 I shal assoille the my-selve ' for a seme of whete. 
 And also be thi bedeman " and bere wel thi mesage, 
 Amonges knightes and clerkis • conscience to torne." 
 
THE SUPPORTERS OF MEED. 229 
 
 Thanue Mede for here mysdedes • to that man kncled, 
 And shrove hire of hire shrcwednesse • shamelees, I trovve, 
 Tolde hym a tale • and toke hym a noble, 
 Forto ben hire bedeman • and hire brokour als. 
 
 Thanne he assoilled hire sone • and sithen he seyde, 
 " We han a wyndowe a wirchyng * wil sitten us ful heigh : 
 Woldestow glase that gable * and grave there-inne thi name, 
 Siker sholde thi soule be * hevene to have.'' 
 " Wist I that," quod that womman • " I wolde nought spare 
 For to be yowre frende, frerc * and faille yow nevre 
 Whil ye love lordes • that lechery haunteth. 
 And lakketh nought ladis " that loveth wel the same. 
 It is frelte of flesh • ye fynde it in bokcs. 
 And a course of kynde • wher-of we komen alle ; 
 Who may scape the sklaundre • the skathe is sone amended ; 
 It is synne of the sevene • sonnest relessed. 
 
 Have mercy," quod Mede " "of men that it haunte. 
 And I shal kevre yowre kirke • yowre cloystre do maken, 
 Wowes do whiten " and wyndowes glasen, 
 Do peynten and purtraye " and paye for the makynge, 
 That evry segge shal seyn • I am sustre of yowre hous." 
 
 Ac God to alle good folke * suche gravynge defendeth, 
 To writen in wyndowes " of here wel dedes. 
 
 On aventure pruyde be peynted there • and pompe of the worldc ; 
 For Crist knoweth tHi conscience " and thi kynde wille, 
 And thi coste and thi coveitise • and who the catcl oughte. 
 
 For-thi I lere yow, lordes • leveth such werkes. 
 To written in wyndowes" of yowre wel dedes. 
 Or to greden after Goddis men * whan ye delen doles ; 
 An aventure ye han yowre hire here " and youre hevene als ; 
 
 Nesciat sinistra quid faciat dextra. 
 
 B. iii. I I. 
 
 V. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENTS. 
 
 I 
 
 Thus ich a-waked, God wot " whanne ich woned on Cornehullc, 
 Kytte and ich in a cote • clothed as a lollere, 
 
230 PIERS PL O WMA A'. 
 
 And lytel y-letc by' leyvc me for sothe, 
 
 Among lollares of London • and lewede heremytes ; 
 
 For ich made of tho men • as reson me tauhte. 
 
 For as ich cam by Conscience* with Reson ich mette 
 
 In an hote hervest • whenne ich hadde myn hele, 
 
 And lymes to labore with • and lovede vvel fare, 
 
 And no dede to do • bote drynke and to slepe. 
 
 In hele and in unite " on me aposede, 
 
 Romynge in remembraunce • thus Reson me aratede. 
 
 " Canstow serven," he seide * " other synger. in a churche, 
 Other coke for my cokers • other to the cart picche, 
 Mowe other mowen • other make bond to sheves, 
 Repc other be a repereyve • and a-ryse erliche, 
 Other have an home and be haywarde • and liggen oute a nyghtcs, 
 And kepe my corn in my croft* fro pvkers and theeves ? 
 Other shappe shon other clothes ' other shep other kyn kcpe, 
 Heggen other harwen • other svvyn other gees dryve, 
 Hem that bedreden be ' by-lyve to fynde ? " 
 " Certes," ich seyde • " and so me God helpc, 
 Ich am to vvaik to worche • with sykel other with sythe, 
 And to long, leyf me • lowe for to stoupe, 
 To worchen as a workeman ■ eny whyle to dure," 
 " Thenne havest thow londes to lyve by,"" quath Reson, "other 
 
 lynage riche 
 That fyndcn the thy fode ? • for an ydel man thow semest, 
 A spendour that spende mot • other a spillc-tyme. 
 Other bcggest thy bylyve • a-boute at menne hacches, 
 Other faitest up-on frydays • other feste-dayes in churches. 
 The whiche is lollarene lyf • that lytel ys preysed, 
 Ther ryghtfulnesse rewardeth • ryght as men deserveth, 
 
 Reddit unicuique juxta opera sua. 
 Other thow art broke, so may be • in body other in membre. 
 Other ymaymed throw som mys-hap • wher-by thow myght be 
 
 excused ? " 
 " Whanne ich yong was," quath ich • "meny yer hennes. 
 My fader and my frendes • founden me to scole, 
 Tyl ich wiste wyterliche • what holy wryt menede, 
 And what is best for the body* as the bok telleth. 
 And sykerest for the soule • by so ich wolle continue. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENTS. 2 
 
 And yut fond ich ncvere in faith • sytthen my frendcs deydcii, 
 
 Lyf that me lyked • bote in thes longc clothes. 
 
 Yf ich by labourc sholde lyve • and lyflode deserven, 
 
 That labour that ich lerned best • ther-with lyve ich sholde ; 
 
 In eadem vocatione hi qua vocati estis., 7nanete. 
 And ich lyve in Londone • and on Londone bothe, 
 The lomes that ich laboure with • and lyflode deserve, 
 Ys pater-jioster and my prymer • placebo and dirige. 
 And my sauter som tyme * and my sevene psalmes. 
 Thus ich synge for hure soules ' of suche as me helpen, 
 And tho that fynden me my fode • vouchen saf, ich trowe, 
 To be welcome whanne ich come • other'-whyle in a monthc 
 Now with hym and now with hure* and thus-gate ich begge 
 With-oute bagge other botel • bote my wombe one. 
 And al-so more-over • me thynketh, syre Rcson, 
 Men sholde constreyne no cl^rke * to knauene werkes ; 
 For by the lawe of Levitici' that Oure Lorde ordeynede, 
 Clerkes that aren crouned* of kynde understondyng 
 Sholde nother swynke ne swete • ne swere at enquestes ; 
 Ne fyghte in no vauntwarde " ne hus so greve, 
 
 Non reddai malum pro t/ialo . 
 For it ben aires of hevene • allc that ben crounede, 
 And in queer and in kirkes • Cristes ov/ene mynestres, 
 
 Dominus pars her edit atis mee ; et alibi: dementia 7!o?i constringit. 
 Hit by-cometh for clerkus • Crist for to serven, 
 And knaves uncrouned' to cart and to worche. 
 For shold no clerk be crouned • bote yf he ycome were 
 Of tranklens and tree men " and of folkc vwcddcde. 
 Bondmen and bastardes " and beggers children, 
 Thuse by-longeth to labour " and lordes kyn to serven 
 Bothe God and good men • as here degree asketh ; 
 Some to synge masses • other sitten and wryte, 
 Rede and receyve " that reson ouhte spende ; 
 Ac sith bondemenne barnes • han be mad bisshopes, 
 And barnes bastardes • han ben archidekenes, 
 And sopcrs and here sones • for selver han be knyghtes, 
 And lordene sones here laborers • and leid here rentes to wedde. 
 For the ryght of this reame ' ryden a-yens owre enemys, 
 In contorte of the comune • and the kynges worshep, 
 
232 FIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 And monkes and moniales • that mendinauns sholden fyndc, 
 
 Han mad here kyn knyghtes • and knyghtfees purchased, 
 
 Popes and patrones " poure gentil blood refuseth, 
 
 And taken Symondes sone • seyntwarie to kepe, 
 
 Lyf-holynesse and love • han ben longe henues, 
 
 And wole, til hit be wered out • or otherwise ychaunged. 
 
 For-thy rebuke me ryght nouht ' Reson, ich yow praye ; 
 
 For in my conscience ich knowe • what Crist woldc that ich 
 
 wrouhte, 
 Preyers of a parFyt man • and penaunce discrct 
 Ys the leveste labour • that oure lord pleseth, 
 " Non de solo^'' ich seide • " for sothe vivit homo. 
 Nee in pane et pabulo ' the pater-noster witnesseth ; 
 Fiat voluntas tua • fynt ous alle thynges." 
 
 Ouath Conscience, " by Crist * ich can nat sec this lycth ; 
 Ac it semeth nouht parfytnesse • in cytees for to begge, 
 Bote he be obediencer • to pryour other to mynstrc." 
 
 " That ys soth," ich seide • " and so ich by-knowe, 
 That ich have tynt tyme • and tyme mysspcnded ; 
 And yut, ich hope, as he • that oftc havcth chaffared, 
 That ay hath lost and lost • and atte lastc hym happed 
 He bouhte suche a bargayn • he was the bet evere, 
 And sette hus lost at a lef • at the laste ende, 
 Such a wynnynge hym warth • thorw^ wordes of hus grace ; 
 
 Simile est regmim celorum thesauro abscondito in agro, etc. 
 
 Mulier que invenit dragmam unam, etc. ; 
 So hope ich to have • of hym that is al-myghty 
 A gobet of hus grace • and bygynne a tyme, 
 That alle tymes of my tyme • to profit shal turne." 
 
 '■'■ Ich rede the,"' quath Reson tho ■ " rape the to by-gynne 
 The lyf that ys lowable * and leel to the soule." 
 *•• Yc and continue," quath Conscience • and to the kirkc ich wente. 
 
 And to the kirke gan ich go* God to honourie, 
 By-for the crois on my knees " knocked ich my brest, 
 Sykynge for my synnes • seggynge my pater-noster, 
 Wepvnge and wailinge. 
 
 C. vi. I. 
 
A TA VERN SCENE. 233 
 
 And so my witte wex and wanyed • til I a fole were, 
 And somme lakked my lyf • allowed it fewe. 
 And leten me for a lore! • and loth to reverencen 
 Lordes or ladyes ■ or any lyf elles, 
 As persones in pellure with pendauntes of sylver; 
 To serjauntz ne to suche " seyde noughte ones, 
 " God loke yow, lordes ! " • ne louted faire ; 
 That folke helden me a fole ' and in that folye I raved, 
 Til Resoun hadde reuthc on me • and rokked me aslepe. 
 
 B. XV. 5. 
 VI. 
 
 A TAVERN SCENE. 
 
 Now by-gynneth Gloton • for to go to shryfte, 
 And kayres hym to-kirke-ward ' hus coupe to shewe. 
 Fastyng on a fryday • forth gan he wende 
 By Betone hous the brewestere • that bad hym good morwe, 
 And whederwarde he wolde • the brew-wif hym asked. 
 "To holy churche," quath he • "for to hure masse ; 
 And sitthen sitte and be yshriven • and synwe namore." 
 " Ich have good ale, godsyb * Gloton, wolt thow assave ? " 
 "What havest thow," quath he • " eny hote spices \ " 
 " Ich have piper and pionys • and a pound of garlik, 
 A ferthyng-worth of fynkelsede • for fastinge-daies." 
 
 Thenne goth Gloton yn • and grete othes after. 
 Sesse the sywestere " sat on the benche. 
 Watte the warynere • and hus wif dronke, 
 Thomme the tynkere • and tweye of hus knaves, 
 Hicke the hakeneyman • and Houwe the neldere, 
 Claryce of Cockeslane • the clerk of the churche, 
 Syre Peeres of Prydie • and Purnel of Flaundres, 
 An haywarde and an hcremyte • the hangeman of Tyborne, 
 Dauwe the dykere • with a dosen harlotes 
 Of portours and of pykeporses • and pylede toth-drawers, 
 A rybibour and a ratoner • a rakere and hus knave, 
 A ropere and a redyngkynge • and Rose the disshere, 
 Godefray the garlek-mongere • and GrifFyn the Walish ; 
 And of up-holders an hep • erly by the morwe 
 
234 PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 Geven Gloton with glad chere • good ale to hansele. 
 
 Clemment the coblerc • cast of hus cloke, 
 And to the newe fayre • nempncd hit to selle. 
 Hicke the hakeneyman • hitte hus hod after, 
 And bad Bette the bouchere • to be on hus syde. 
 Ther were chapmen y-chose • the chafFare to preise ; 
 That he that hadde the hod ■ sholde nat habbe the cloke ; 
 The betere thyng by arbytours • sholde bote the worse. 
 Two rysen rapliche • and rounede to-geders, 
 And preysed the penyworthes • apart by hem-selve, 
 And ther were othes an hepe • for other sholde have the werse. 
 Thei couthe nouht by here conscience • a-corde for treuthe, 
 Tyl Robyn the ropere • aryse thei bysouhte, 
 And nempned hym a nompeyr • that no debate were. 
 
 Hicke the hakeneyman • hadde the cloke, 
 In covenant that Clement ■ sholde the coppc fylle. 
 And have the hakeneymannes hod • and hold hym y-served ; 
 And who repentyde rathest • shold aryse after. 
 And grete syre Gloton * with a galon oi ale. 
 
 Ther was lauhyng and lakeryng " and " let go the coppc ! " 
 Bargeynes and bcvereges • by-gunne to aryse, 
 And setyn so til evesong rang • and songe umbwhyle, 
 Til Gloton hadde yglobbed • a galon and a gylle. . . . 
 
 He myghte nother stappe ne stondc * tyl he a staf hadde. 
 Thanne gan he_go • lyke a glcmannes bycche, 
 Som tyme asyde • and som tymc a-rere. 
 As ho so laith lynes • for to lacche foules. 
 
 And when he drow to the dore ; thanne dymmed hus even ; 
 He thrumbled'at the threshefold • and threw to the erthc. 
 The Clement the coblerc • cauhte hym by the mydel. 
 For to lyfte hym on loft • he leyde hym on hus knees ; 
 Ac Gloton was a gret cherl • and gronyd in the liftyngc. . . . 
 
 With al the wo of the worlde • hus wif and hus wenche 
 Bere hym to hus bedde • and brouhte hym ther-ynne ; 
 And after al this cxcesse • he hadde an accidie. 
 He slep Saterday and Sonday • tyl sonne yede to reste. 
 Thenne awakydc he wcl wan • and wolde have ydronke ; 
 The ferst word that he spak • was "ho halt the bolle ?" 
 
 C. vii. 350. 
 
''Accidia:' 255 
 
 VII. 
 
 « ACCIDIA," OR THE LAZY PARSON. 
 
 Thannc come SIcuthc al bislabered ■ with two slymy eighen : 
 " I most sitte," seyde the segge • "or elles shulde I nappe ; 
 I may noughte stonde ne stoupe • ne with-oute a stole knele. 
 Were I broughte abedde . . . 
 
 Sholde no ryngynge do me ryse " ar I were rype to dyne." 
 He bygan heiiedicite with a bolke • and his brest knocked, 
 And roxed and rored ■ and rutte atte laste. 
 
 "What! awake, rcnke ! " quod Repentance" "and rape the to 
 shrifte " 
 
 " If I shulde deye bi this day • me liste noughte to loke ; 
 I can noughte perfitly my pater-noster • as the prest hit syngeth, 
 But T can rymes of Robyn Hood • and Randolf erle of Chestre, 
 Ac neither of Owre Lorde ne of Owre Lady • the leste that evere 
 
 was made. 
 I have made vowes fourty • and for-yetc hem on the morne ; 
 I parfourmed nevre penaunce * as the prest me highte, 
 Ne ryghte sori for my synnes * yet was I nevere. 
 And yif I bidde any bedes * but if it be in wrath, 
 That I telle with my tonge ' is two myle fro myne herte. 
 I am occupied eche day • haliday and other. 
 With ydel tales atte ale ' and otherwhile in cherches ; 
 Goddes peyne and his passioun • ful selde thynke I there-on. 
 
 I visited nevere fieble men • ne fettered folke in puttes ; 
 I have levcre here an harlotrie ' or a somer-game of souteres. 
 Or lesynges to laughe at • and belye my neighbore. 
 Than al that evere Marke made * Mathew, John, and Lucas. 
 And vigilies and fastyng-dayes * alle thise late I passe, 
 And ligge abedde in lenten • an my lemman in myn armes, 
 Tyl matynes and masse be do • and thanne go to the freres ; 
 Come I to ite missa est ' I holde me yserved, 
 I nam noughte shryven some tyme • but if sekenesse it make. 
 Nought tweies in two yere • and thanne up gesse I shryve me, 
 
 I have be prest and parsoun • passynge thretti wynter, 
 Yete can I neither solfe ne synge • ne seyntes lyves rede. 
 But I can fynde in a felde ' or in a fourlonge an hare. 
 Better than in beatus vir • or in beati omne^ 
 
 16 
 
236 PIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 Construe oon clause wel ' and kenne it to my parochienes. 
 
 I can holde lovedayes • and here a reves rekenynge, 
 
 Ac in canoun ne in decretales • I can nought rede a lyne. 
 
 B. V. 392. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 "POURE FOLKE IN COTES." 
 
 The most needy aren oure neighebores • and we nyme good hede. 
 As prisones in puttcs " and poure folke in cotes, 
 Charged with children • and chef lordes rente, 
 That thei with spynnynge may spare • spenen hit in hous-hyre, 
 Bothe in mylk and in mele • to make with papelotes, 
 To a-glotye with here gurles • that grcden after fode. 
 Al-so hem-selve ' sufFren muche hunger. 
 And wo in winter-tyme • with wakyngc a nyghtes 
 To ryse to the ruel * to rocke the cradel, 
 Bothe to karde and to kembe * to clouten and to wasche. 
 To rubbe and to rely* russhes to pilie, 
 That reuthe is to rede * othere in ryme shewe 
 The wo of these women • that wonycth in cotes ; 
 And of mcny other men • that muche wo suffrcn, 
 Bothe a-fyngrede and a-furst • to turne the fayrc outwarde, 
 And beth abasshed for to begge • and wolle nat be aknowe 
 What hem needcth at here neiheborcs * at non and at even. 
 That ich wot witerly • as the worlde tccheth, 
 What other by-hoveth • that hath meny children. 
 And hath no catel bote hus crafte * to clothy hem and to fede. 
 And fele to fonge ther-to • and fewe pans taketh. 
 There is payn and peny-ale* as for a pytaunce y-take, 
 Colde flessh and cold fyssh • for veneson ybake ; 
 Frydayes and fastyng-dayes • a farthyng-worth of muscles 
 Were a feste for suche folke * other so fele cockes. 
 These were almes, to helpe • that han suche charges. 
 And to comfortie such cotyers ' and crokede men and blynde. 
 
 Ac beggers with bagges • the whiche brewhouses ben here 
 churches. 
 Bote thei be blynde other broke • other elles be syke, 
 Thauh he falle for defaute* that faiteth for hus lyf-lode, 
 Reccheth nevere, ye ryche • thauh suche lorclles stervcn. 
 
 C. X. 71. 
 
^'LEWEDE EREMYTESr 237 
 
 IX. 
 
 "LEWEDE EREMYTES." 
 
 . . . And levvede ercmytes, 
 That loken full louheliche • to lacchen mcnnes almessc, 
 In hope to sitten at ev^en ' by the hote coles, 
 Unlouke hus leggcs abrod • other lygge at hus ese, 
 Reste hym, and rostc hym ' and his ryg turne, 
 Drynke drue and deepe ' and drawe hym thanne to bcdde ; 
 And when hym lyketh and lust • hus leve ys to aryse ; 
 When he ys rysen, rometh out • and ryght wel aspieth 
 Whar he may rathest have a repast • other a rounde ot bacon, 
 Sulver other sode mete . and som tyme bothe, 
 A loof other half a loof * other a lompe of chese ; 
 And carieth it hom to hus cote " and cast him to lyve 
 In ydclnesse and in ese • aud by others travayle. 
 And what frek of thys folde ' fisketh thus a-boute, 
 With a bagge at hus bak • a begeneldes wyse. 
 And can som manere craft • in cas he wolde hit use, 
 Thorgh whiche crafte he couthe • come to bred and to ale, 
 And over-more to an hater • to helye with hus bones, 
 And lyveth lyk a lollere • Godes lawe hym dampneth. 
 
 Ac these eremytes that edefyen thus • by the hye weyes. 
 Whilom were workmen • webbes and taillours. 
 And carters knaves • and clerkus with-oute grace, 
 Helden ful hungry hous • and hadde much defaute. 
 Long labour and lyte wynnynge • and atte laste aspiden, 
 That faitours in frere clothynge • hadde fatte chekus. 
 For-thi lefte thei here laboure " these levvede knaves. 
 And clothed hem in copes • clerkus as hit were, 
 Other on of som ordre • othere elles a prophete. 
 
 Wher see we hem on sonedays " the servyse to huyre, 
 As, matyns by the morwe ? • tyl masse by-gynne. 
 Other sonedays at evesonge " seo we wel fewe ! 
 Othere laborv for here liflode • as the lawe wolde ? 
 
238 . PIERS PLOWMAN. 
 
 Ac at mydday meel-tyme • ich mete with hem ofte, 
 
 Comynge in a cope • as he a clerke were ; 
 
 A bacheler other a beaupere • best hym by-semeth ; 
 
 And for the cloth that kevereth hym • cald is he a frere, 
 
 Wassheth and wypeth • and with the furste sitteth, 
 
 Ac while he wrought in thys worlde • and wan hus mete with 
 
 treuthe, 
 He sat atte sydbcnchc • and secounde table ; 
 Cam no wyn in hus wombe * thorw the weke longe, 
 Nother blankett in hus bed • ne white bred by-fore hym. 
 The cause of al thys caitifte ' cometh of meny bisshopcs, 
 That suffren suche sottes * and othere synnes regne ; 
 Certes, ho so thurste hit segge * Sy?non quasi dormit ; 
 Plgilare were fairour ' for thow hast gret charge. 
 For meny waker wolves " ben broke in-to foldcs ; 
 Thyne bcrkeres ben al blynde • that bryngeth forth thy lambren, 
 Dispergentur oves ' thi dogge dar nat berke. 
 
 C. X. 140, 203, 242. 
 
 X. 
 
 THE DOUBTS OF " CUNNYNGE CLERKES " AND THE FAITH OF 
 " PASTOURES." 
 
 On Gode Fridaye I fynde • a feloun was ysaved, 
 That had lyved al his lyf • with lesynges and with thefte ; 
 And for he biknewe on the crosse • and to Cryste schrot hym. 
 He was sonnere saved • than seynt Johan the baptiste. 
 And or Adam or Ysaye • or eny of the prophetes. 
 That hadde ylcine with Lucyfer • many longe yeres. 
 A robbere was yraunceouned • rather than thei alle, 
 With-outen any penaunce of purgatorie • to perpetuel blisse. 
 
 Thanne Marye Magdalcyne * what womman dede worse ? 
 Or who worse than David" that Uries deth conspired? 
 Or Poule the apostle • that no pitee hadde, 
 Moche crystene kynde • to kylle to deth ? 
 And now ben thise as sovereynes • wyth seyntes in hevene, 
 Tho that wroughte wikkedlokest • in worlde tho thei were. 
 And tho that wisely wordcden • and wryten many bokes 
 Of wittc and of wisdome * with dampned soules wonye. . . , 
 
EASTER BELLS. 239 
 
 The doughtiest doctour* and dcvynoure of the Trinitce, 
 Was Augustyn the olde ' and heighest of the foure, 
 Sayde thus in a sarmoun * I seigh it writen ones, 
 
 Ecce ipsi idioti rapiunt celian, ubi nos snpientes in i?iferno mergimur : 
 And is to mene to Englisshe men • more ne lasse, 
 ■*' Aren none rather yravysshed " fro the righte byleve 
 Than ar this cunnynge clerkes • that conne many bokes ; 
 Ne none sonner saved • ne sadder of bileve, 
 Than plowmen and pastoures • and pore comune laboreres." 
 Souteres and shepherdes * suche lewede jottes 
 Percen with a pater-noster ' the paleys of hevene, 
 And passen purgatorie penaunceles " at her hennes-partynge, 
 In-to the blisse of paradys " for her pure byleve, 
 That inparfitly here ' knewe and eke lyved. 
 
 Yee men knowe clerkes • that han cursed the tyme, 
 That evere thei couthe or knewe more • than Credo in Deum 
 PiUrem. 
 
 B. X. 414, 452. 
 
 XI. 
 
 HARROWING OF HELL.— EASTER BELLS. 
 
 A voys loude in that light " to Lucifer seide, 
 ■*' Prince of this palys • prest undo the gates. 
 For here cometh with coroune • the kynge of alle glorie." 
 Thenne syhede Satan • and seide to helle, 
 " Suche a light a-geyns our !eve • Lazar hit fette ; 
 •Colde care and combraunce • is come to ous alle. 
 Yf this kyng come yn * mankynde wol he fecche, 
 And leden hit ther Lazar is • and lightliche me bynde. 
 Patriarkes and Prophetes • han parlen her-of longe. 
 That suche a lorde and a lyght • shal leden hem alle hennes. 
 Ac rys up RagamofFyn • and reche me alle the barres 
 That Belial thy bel-syre • beot with thy damme, 
 And ich shal lette this lorde • and hus light stoppe ; 
 Ar we thorw bryghtnesse be blent ' barre we the gates. 
 Cheke we and cheyne we * and eche chyne stoppe. 
 That no light leope yn • at lover ne at loupe. 
 And thow, Astrot, hot out * and have oute oure knaves, 
 
2 40 FIERS PL O WMAN. 
 
 Coltyng and al hus kynne • our catel to save. 
 
 Brynston boilaunt • brennyng out-casteth hit 
 
 Al hot on here heuedes • that entren ny the walks. 
 
 Setteth bowes of brake • and brasene gonnes, 
 
 And sheteth out shot ynowh • hus shultrom to blende. 
 
 Sette Mahon at the mangonel • and muUe-stones throweth, 
 
 With crokes and with kalketrappes • a-cloye we hem echone ! " 
 
 " Lusteneth,"' quath Lucifer ' " for ich this lord knowe, 
 Bothe this lord and this lyght • is longe gon ich knew hym. 
 May no deth this lord dere * ne no deoveles queyntise "... 
 
 " What lord art thu ? " quath Lucifer ; • a voys aloud seyde, 
 " The lord of myght and of mayn ' that made alle thynges. 
 Duke of this dymme place • a-non undo the gates, 
 That Crist mowe comen in • the kyngcs sone of hevcne." 
 And with that breth helle brake * with alle Beliales barres ; 
 For eny wye other warde • wyde openede the gates. 
 Patriarkes and prophetes • populus in tenebris, 
 Songen with Seint Johan * " Ecce agnus Dei!" 
 Lucifer loke ne myghte * so lyghte him a-blente ; 
 And tho that Oure Lord lovede • with that lyght forth flowen . . _ 
 Treuthc trompede tho, and song • " Te Deum laudamus " ; 
 And then lutcde Love • in a lowd note, 
 
 " Ecce quam bonuni et quam jocundum est habit are fr aires ^ in 
 unum ! " 
 
 Tyl the day dawedc • these damsclcs daunsede. 
 
 That men rang to the rcsurreccioun • and with that ich avv.ikede. 
 
 And kallyd Kytte my wyf • and Kalote my doughtcr, 
 
 " A-rys, and go reverence • Godes rcsurreccioun. 
 
 And creop on kneos to the croys • and cusse hit for a juwel, 
 
 And ryghtfullokest a relyk • non riccher on erthe. 
 
 For Godes blesside body • hit bar for oure bote, 
 
 And hit a-fcreth the feonde • for such is the myghte. 
 
 May no grysliche gost * glyde ther hit shadeweth ! " 
 
 C. xxi. 273, 363, 469.. 
 
MEETING OF PARLIAMENT. 241 
 
 XII. 
 
 {From '' Richard the Redeless:') 
 
 MEETING OF PARLIAMENT.— FAITHFUL AND FAITHLESS 
 MEMBERS. 
 
 The treasury being empty, owing to the extravagance of Richard, 
 Parliament meets in accordance with the royal summons, but it is 
 a packed Parliament, and the poet thus describes it, in " Richard 
 the Redeless " : 
 
 Whanne the reot and the revell • the rent thus passid, 
 And no thing y-lafte* but the bare baggis. 
 Then ffelle it afForse • to ffille hem ageyne. 
 And fFeyned sum fFolie ' that ffilid hem never. 
 And cast it be colis • with her conceill at evene, 
 To have prevy parlement * for profit of hem-self. 
 And lete write writtis • all in wex closid, 
 Ffor peeris and prelatis ■ that thei apere shuld. 
 And sente side sondis * to schrevys-aboute. 
 To chese swiche chevalleris • as the charge wold. 
 To schewe ffor the schire • in company with the grete. 
 And whanne it drowe to the day • of the dede-doynge, 
 That sovereynes were semblid ■ and the schire-knyghtis. 
 Than, as her fforme is, ffrist • they begynne to declare 
 The cause of her comynge * and than the kyngis will. 
 
 Comliche a clerk than • comsid the wordis, 
 And pronouncid the poyntis • aparte to hem alle, 
 And meved ffor money • more than ffor out ellis. 
 In glosinge of grette * lest greyves arise. 
 And whanne the tale was tolde • anon to the ende, 
 A-morwe thei must, affore mete * mete to-gedir. 
 The knyghtis of the comunete * and carpe of the maters. 
 With citiseyns of shiris • y-sent ffor the same. 
 To reherse the articlis • and graunt all her askynge. 
 But yit ffor the manere " to make men blynde, 
 Somme argued ageyn rith • then a good while. 
 And said, " we beth servantis • and sallere ffongen. 
 And y-sent ffro the shiris • to shewe what hem greveth. 
 
242 PIERS PLOWAIAN. 
 
 And to parle ftbr her prophetc • and passe no fferthere, 
 
 And to graunte of her gold • to the grett wattis 
 
 By no manere wronge way * but if werre were ; 
 
 And if we ben fFalls • to tho us here ffyndeth, 
 
 Evyll be we worthy • to welden oure hire," 
 
 Than satte summe • as siphre doth in avvgrym, 
 
 That noteth a place " and no-thing availith ; 
 
 And some had ysoupid * with Symond overe even, 
 
 And schewed fFor the schire • and here schew lost ; 
 
 And somme were tituleris • and to the kyng wente, 
 
 And fFormed him of fFoos * that good fFrendis weren, 
 
 That bablid ftbr the best • and no blame served 
 
 Of kynge ne conceyll • ne of the comunes nother, 
 
 Ho so toke good kepe " to the culorum. 
 
 And somme slombrid and slepte • and said but a lite ; 
 
 And somme mafflid with the mouth • and nyst what they mente ; 
 
 And somme had hire • and helde ther-with evere, 
 
 And wolde no ftbrther afibot • ftbr fter of her maistris ; 
 
 And some were so soleyne • and sad of her wittis, 
 
 That er they come to the clos * acombrid they were. 
 
 That thei the conclucioun than * constrewe ne coiithe. 
 
 No burne of the benche • of borowe nother cllis, 
 
 So blynde and so ballid • and bare was the reson . . . 
 
 And some dradde dukis • and Do-well fibr-soke. 
 
 "Richard the Rcdeless," iv. 20, 93. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 Jc, but. 
 
 Accidie^ from " accidia," laziness, 
 
 torpor. 
 A-cloye, drive a nail into (Fr. 
 
 "enclouer"), embarrass, cause 
 
 great trouble. 
 Acombrid, clogged. 
 Jfyngred, famished, 
 Jfyrst, athirst. 
 J-glotye, to feed, 
 ^/r, heir. 
 J?icres, anchorets. 
 Jnd, if. 
 
 Apose^ to ask questions, to argue. 
 Arate, to reprove. 
 A-scapie, to escape. 
 Awgrjm, arithmetic. 
 
 Ballid, bald. 
 
 Be, by. 
 
 Beaupere, reverend father. 
 
 Bedemati, beadman (who says 
 
 prayers). 
 Bedes, beads, prayers. 
 Bedreden, bedridden. 
 
 Begenelde, beggar. 
 
 Belsyre, grandfather. 
 
 Beot, from " beeten," to beat, to 
 knock. 
 
 Berkeres, barkers (dogs). 
 
 Bighes, collars. 
 
 Bihight, from " bi-heten," to pro- 
 mise. 
 
 Biknozoen, to acknowledge, to 
 confess. 
 
 Bislabered, soiled. 
 
 Blent, from "blenden," to blind. 
 
 Bolke, belch. 
 
 Borozue, borough. 
 
 Bote, to make things equal. 
 
 Bote, recompense, safeguard. 
 
 Brake, winch (of a bow), " bows 
 of brake." 
 
 Bretful, brimful. 
 
 Buggen, to buy. 
 
 Burne, man. 
 
 Buskefi, to go with haste. 
 
 Bydden, to beg. 
 
 Bydders, beggars. 
 
 By-hoveth, is the fate of. 
 
244 
 
 PIERS FLO WMAN. 
 
 Bf-lyve, food, what to live on. 
 
 Canstozv, canst thou. 
 
 Ciirien, to wander. 
 
 Caroyne, carcass. 
 
 Casten, to arrange, to prepare. 
 
 Catel, property, wealth. 
 
 Chaffare, cheffare, merchandise ; 
 
 to bargain. 
 Chaptnen, merchants. 
 Cheveden, from " cheven," to 
 
 prosper. 
 Chyne, chink, 
 C/okken, to hobble, to walk with 
 
 difficulty. 
 Clos, conclusion. 
 Cloutefi, to mend clothes. 
 Clowe, to claw. 
 Colts, deceits. 
 Comsid, commenced. 
 Co?ine, to know, to understand. 
 Coupe, sin ("culpa"). 
 Couthe, from " conne," to know. 
 Craccken, scratch. 
 Cullen, to kill. 
 Culorum, end, conclusion (from 
 
 " sjECula %s.culorum "). 
 
 Damme, dame, mother. 
 Demeri, to judge, to decide. 
 Duene, din. 
 
 Elyjigc, lonely, wretched. 
 
 Faille, to fail, to want. 
 Fatten, to beg. 
 Faitour, beggar. 
 Faytynge, begging. 
 Fele, many. 
 
 Fere, companion. 
 
 Fet, from " feden," to feed. 
 
 Feterye, to fetter. 
 
 Fetten, to fetch. 
 
 F formed, informed. 
 
 Fisketh, wanders. 
 
 Fonge, to take, to grasp. 
 
 For, for fear of, 
 
 Frek, being, fellow. 
 
 Fynden, to find, to provide, 
 
 Fynkelsede, fennel seed. 
 
 Glosinge, giving wrong interpre- 
 tations. 
 Gobet, morsel. 
 Godsyb, gossip, 
 Gom tries, gums, 
 Greden, to cry out, 
 Greyves, grievances, 
 Grucchen, to grumble, 
 Gurden, to knock down. 
 Gurles, children (of either sex), 
 
 Hacches, hatches, buttery doors. 
 
 Hals, neck, 
 
 Harlotes, rascals (men). 
 
 Hater, clothes, 
 
 Hefd, head, 
 
 Heggen, to plant or keep up 
 
 hedges, 
 Hele, health. 
 Helye, to cover, 
 Hendeliche, courteously, 
 Heo, she, they. 
 
 Here, their ; of them ; to hear. 
 Heme, nook. 
 Highte, from " haten," to call, to 
 
 command, to promise. 
 Hit, it ; they. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 245 
 
 Hltte7i, to knock down. 
 
 Ho, who. 
 
 Hot, from " haten," to call. 
 
 Hoten, to prescribe. 
 
 Hulles, hills. 
 
 Hure, to hear ; hire ; their, her. 
 
 Has, house ; his ; their. 
 
 Ich, I. 
 
 "Jottes, peasants. 
 
 Kalketrappes, calthrops. 
 
 Kayres, from " kairen," to go to. 
 
 Kennen, to teach, to explain. 
 
 Kevre, to cover. 
 
 Konnynge, knowing. 
 
 Kynde, nature. 
 
 Kynde iinderstondy?ige, common 
 
 sense. 
 Kynde wit, common sense. 
 Kynne, kin ; kind. 
 
 Lacche7i, to catch. 
 
 Laike, to play. 
 
 Laith, lays, from " leyn," to lay. 
 
 Lakeryng, groaning. 
 
 Lakken, to blame. 
 
 Lauhen, to laugh. 
 
 Lauhte, hon\ "lacchen," to catch. 
 
 Leel, loyal, honest. 
 
 Lef, leaf, a valueless object. 
 
 Leode, man, tenement. 
 
 Leope, from " lepen," to leap. 
 
 Lesytiges, lies. 
 
 Lete, to let, to allow. 
 
 Leve, leave. 
 
 Lewed, ignorant. 
 
 Leyn, to lay. 
 
 Leyve, to believe. 
 
 Lollere, an idle vagabond. 
 
 Lomes, tools. 
 
 Lorel, a worthless vagabond. 
 
 Louheliche, lowly. 
 
 Lovedays, days when quarrels were 
 
 settled. Many abuses arose 
 
 therefrom (see Skeat, Oxford 
 
 ed., vol. ii. p. 47). 
 Loveliche, lovely. 
 Lover, louvre, from " I'ouvert " 
 
 (Skeat). 
 Loupe, loop-hole. 
 
 Loute, to make obeisance, to bow. 
 Lowren, to show displeasure. 
 Lutede, from lute, to play on the 
 
 lute. 
 Lyeth, from " liggen " (to lie), has 
 
 reference to. 
 Lyjlode, livelihood. 
 Lyggen, to lie. 
 Lykame, body. 
 Lykerous, luxurious. 
 
 Mafflid, mumbled. 
 Mannus, men. 
 Muse, confusion, anarchy. 
 Mellud, from melen, to speak. 
 Mene, mean, poor ; to mean. 
 Meteles, dream. 
 Metten, to dream. 
 Meyne, train, retinue. 
 MorweTiyng, morning. 
 Motoun, a certain coin. 
 Mozue, may. 
 Muscles, mussels. 
 
 Nelde, needle. 
 Nelder, needle-seller. 
 
246 
 
 PIERS FLO IVMAN. 
 
 Nemp?ieti, to name, to mention. 
 
 Nere, near ; ne were. 
 
 Non, noon. 
 
 Nymen, to take, to receive, 
 
 Obediencer, a religious officer; see 
 " Obedientiarius " in Du Cange. 
 Overlepen, to overtake. 
 Ouhte, from "owen," to possess. 
 
 Pans, pence. 
 
 Papelotes, porridge. 
 
 Par ailed, apparelled. 
 
 Payn, bread. 
 
 Penyworthes, pennyworths, goods 
 for sale. 
 
 Peren, to appear. 
 
 Pilie, to peel, " russhes to pilie," 
 to peel rushes in order to make 
 rushlight. 
 
 Passed, from " posschen," to chase 
 about. 
 
 Pound-fneel, by pounds. 
 
 Preise, to appraise. 
 
 Prisones, prisoners. 
 
 Prophetes, prophets, profits. 
 
 Prymer, a book containing the 
 " Horai " or Hours of the 
 Virgin Mary. (A prymer in 
 English, of the early XVth 
 century, belongs to the British 
 Museum; Addit. MS. 17010.) 
 
 Puttes, pits, prison. 
 
 ^eyntise, cunning. 
 
 Rape, make haste. 
 Raplich, hastily. 
 Reden, to advise. 
 
 Re/y, to reel, i.e., to wind on a 
 
 reel. 
 Retire, man. 
 Rent, revenue. 
 Roxed, stretched himself. 
 Ruel, from the French "ruellc," 
 
 narrow space between the bed 
 
 and the wall. 
 Rutte, from " rowten," to snore. 
 Ryg, back. 
 
 Sad, grave, serious. 
 
 Sauter, psalter. 
 
 Schrewe^ tyrant, scoundrel. 
 
 Seggen, to say. 
 
 Segges, people, men. 
 
 Selcouthe, extraordinary. 
 
 Seme, load. 
 
 Settyng, from " scttcn," placing, 
 
 planting. 
 Seylde, seldom. 
 Seyntwarie, sanctuary. 
 Shewen, to declare, to show. 
 Shonye, to shun. 
 
 Shop, from "shapcn," to put, to set. 
 SSroudes, ample floating garments. 
 Shultrom, battalion. 
 Side, large. 
 Siker, secure. 
 Siphre, cipher. 
 Sit hen, then. 
 Sith then, since. 
 Sitten, to remain ; to cost. 
 Skath, evil, wrong. 
 Sondis, messages. 
 Soper, soap-seller (?), sweeper (?) 
 Souter, cobbler. 
 Sovereynes, lords. 
 Spenen, to spend. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 247 
 
 Srappe, to walk. 
 
 S won ken, szvynken, to work. 
 
 Sykynge, sighing. 
 
 Synzve, to sin. 
 
 Syth then, since. 
 
 Syzuestere, sempstress. 
 
 Take (besides the usual meaning), 
 
 to give, to receive. 
 Tho, they, those, those who, then, 
 
 when. 
 Thrumblcd, stumbled. 
 Thurste^ durst. 
 Tituleris, tattlers. 
 To-logged, pulled about. 
 Trusse, to get away. 
 Tryuth, truth. 
 Tynt, from " tyne," to lose. 
 
 Umbzuhyle, at intervals. 
 Uncoupled, free in his movements. 
 Unite, sanity. 
 Unlouken, to unlock. 
 Up-holders, dealers in left-ofF 
 clothes. 
 
 Waitede, from " waiten," to ob- 
 serve, to watch. 
 
 Waker, watching. 
 
 Wanye, to decrease. 
 
 Wareine, warren. 
 
 Warth, from "weorthan," to be- 
 come. 
 
 Warynere, warren er. 
 
 Watt is, wights. 
 
 Wedde, to pledge, to marry. 
 
 Welden, to receive. 
 
 Wered, from " were," to wear. 
 
 Werre, war. 
 
 Wexe, to grow. 
 
 Whederzuard, whitherward. 
 
 Wikkedlokest, as wicked as possible, 
 
 Wirchyng, being made. 
 
 Wissen, to teach. 
 
 Witerly, for certain. 
 
 Woldestow, wouldest thou. 
 
 Wane, dwelling. 
 
 Won en, to dwell. 
 
 Wo r den, to speak. 
 
 Worthen, to be, to become ; "lat 
 
 the catte worthe," let the cat 
 
 alone. 
 Wozve, wall. 
 Wratthe, to be angry. 
 Wye, wight. 
 Wyghtlyche, speedily. 
 Wynkyng, half asleep. 
 
 r, I. 
 
 Tcrammyd, crammed. 
 T-lete, esteemed. 
 Toden, ye den, went. 
 T-served, well served. 
 Tsoupid, supped. 
 Tut, yet. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A. 
 
 A. B.C. texts of Langland's Visions, 
 22 ; their dates, chap, ii., 32 et 
 seq. 
 
 "A.B.C," of Chaucer, an imita- 
 tion of Deguileville, 199 
 
 Abnegation, doctrine of, 209 
 
 "Aboulie," loi 
 
 Abstractions, views of Chaucer 
 and Langland concerning, 104 
 et seq. 
 
 Accidia, 235 
 
 Adam, 99, 125, 204 
 
 Adamites, 205 
 
 Adulterators of food, 112 
 
 Age, 98 
 
 Aim of Langland, chap, vi., 153 
 et seq. 
 
 Aldgate, 95 
 
 Aldwin, a Malvern hermit, 76, 
 
 139 
 
 Alexandria, 14.2 
 
 Alliteration, in Langland, 168 et 
 seq.; Chaucer's opinion of, 162 ; 
 rules followed by Langland, 
 169 
 
 Alternate personality, 176 
 
 America, 176 
 "Ancren Riwle," 203 
 Angels, shot with guns, 30 
 Anglo-Saxons, their genius, 212, 
 
 219 
 Antichrist, 31, 14.8, 180, 198, 
 
 207 
 Arezzo, 49 
 Aristotle, 172, 193 
 Armenia, 135, 142 
 Arnold, T., 1 1 5 
 Art of Langland, chap, vi., 153 
 
 et seq. 
 Artisans, their excessive demands, 
 
 III et seq. ; singing French 
 
 songs, 172 
 " Assembly of Foules," 75 
 Assisi, 143 
 Astronomy, 82 
 Astrot, 239 
 Avarice, 200 
 
 B. 
 
 Babylon, 135, 142 
 " Bad Parliament," 21 
 Bad, Sir, the Cat, 40, 41 
 Bakers, 112, 113 
 
25° 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Ball, John, his allusion to Piers 
 Plowman, and Dowel, 189, 190 
 
 Bale, John, his note on Langland, 
 60, 62, 190 
 
 Bankers, 1 1 3 
 
 Bardi, 20 
 
 Basel, earthquake at, 19 
 
 Basel, Nicolaus von, 210 
 
 Bastards, not to be promoted to 
 ecclesiastical dignities, 70 
 
 BatifFol, on the office for the dead, 
 
 Bavaria, 203 
 
 Beggars, 23, 98, 117, 12c 
 
 Beghards, 205 
 
 Bcguinages, 203 
 
 Belial, 239 
 
 Benefices, 133 et seq. 
 
 Bethleem, 135, 142 
 
 Betone, the "brew wif," 161 et 
 seq. 
 
 Beverley, 19 
 
 "Bibles," 198 
 
 Bishop, who should be made a, 
 70 
 
 Bishops, clients of Lady Meed, 
 132; their duties, 132 et seq.., 
 137; ought to stop the mis- 
 deeds of hermits, 145 
 
 Black Prince, 15; his death, 20, 
 
 47 
 Blake, 10, 213, 218 et seq. 
 Blaunchc the Duchesse, 92 
 Blore, Ed., 79 
 Boccaccio, 146 
 Bonaccursi, 20 
 Bozon, Nicol, 40 
 Bretigny, peace of, 15, 35, 36, 
 
 114 
 
 Bristol, 86, 118 
 Bristol, Richard de, 81 
 Brittany, 50 
 Bromyard, John of, 40 
 Browning, Robert, 219 
 Bruges, 161 
 
 "Brut" of Layamon, 168 
 Bunyan, 24, 193, 197, 199, 213 ; 
 
 his moral autobiography, 215, 
 
 217 
 Burnel, family of, 73 
 Burns, the poet, 83 
 Bury, Richard of, 6"] 
 Butchers, 112, 113 
 Byron, 172 
 
 c. 
 
 Cssar, 193 
 
 Calais taken, i 5 
 
 Cambridge, 60, 80 
 
 Canons, 139 
 
 Canterbury, 140, 141 
 
 " Caractcres et Mceurs de ce 
 
 Siecle," i 59 
 Cardinals, 130, 131 ; elect the 
 
 pope, 131 
 Catherine, pupil of Eckhart, 205 
 Cavaliers, 104 
 Cecil, the laundress, 162 
 Celtic race, 2 19 
 Cesana, 49 
 Chantries, 88 et seq. 
 Chaplain, 88 et seq. 
 Charity, 174 ; dressed in silk, 184, 
 
 200 
 Charles I. of England, 215 
 Charles II. of England, no 
 Charles V. of France, 129 
 Charnel-house, 182 
 
INDEX. 
 
 25^ 
 
 Charters, when '' chalengeable," 
 82 
 
 Chartres, tempest there, 36, 37 
 
 Chaucer, 12, 13, 22, 23, 35, 41, 
 63, 64. ; in his bed, 74 et seq., 
 92, 95 ; compared with Lang- 
 land, 103 et seq. ; his good 
 parson, 136; his mirth, 140 ; 
 his pardoner, 146; his views 
 on style, 164 ; his vocabulary, 
 166; dialect, 167; versifica- 
 tion, 168 ; to what extent an 
 Englishman, 175 ; not insular, 
 175, 188, 191, 196 ; his know- 
 ledge of Deguileville, 199; 
 final comparison with Lang- 
 land, 219 
 
 Cheapsidc, 74, i 16 
 
 Cherbury, Herbert of, 213, et seq. 
 
 Cheriton, Odo de, 39 
 
 Cheshire, 57 
 
 Chester, Randal, Earl of, 136 
 
 Chichester, Mayor of London, 48, 
 60 
 
 Children, natural, 122 ; of tlic 
 poor, 123 
 
 Chimneys, 125 
 
 Chirographer, 96 
 
 Church, the, chap. V., 126 et seq 
 
 Clarice, 138 ; of Cock Lane, 162 
 
 Cledat, L., 198 
 
 Clement the cobbler, 163 
 
 Clement VL, 65 
 
 Clement VII., 18 
 
 Cleobury Mortimer, 60, 62, 63 
 
 Clergy, recruiting of, 57, 137; 
 in the time of the plague, 65, 
 109 ; "en declyn," 135 ; regu- 
 lar, 137 ^/ seq. 
 
 Clergye (clerkship), 30; "avan- 
 cement par clergie," 56, 67, 71 
 et seq. ; talks to Langland, 84 
 
 Clerks, hanged by justices con- 
 trary to law, 67 ; not to work 
 with their hands, 69 ; ignorant, 
 83 ; what is a, 88 ; their doubts, 
 238 
 
 Colchester, 189 
 
 Collector of the pope, 131 
 
 Cologne, 203 
 
 Cominges, Comtc de, iio 
 
 Commandments, the Ten, 29 
 
 Common Sense, 174 
 
 Commons, on the French war, 16 ; 
 hostile to the pope, 17; assist 
 Richard II., 21 ; complain of 
 Provisors, 33 ; their petitions, 
 34 ; in favour of peace, 35, 
 114; of the "Good Parlia- 
 ment," 45 et seq. ; of the 
 "Bad," 46; grant a poll tax, 
 54 ; protest against advance- 
 ment by clerkship, 56, 64, 71 ;. 
 their might, 107 ; part played 
 by the, 108 et seq. ; on the 
 question of wages, 11 1; eco- 
 nomic delusions ot, 112; on 
 beggars, 120; on wandering 
 preachers, 127 ; on Rome, 130; 
 on Avignon, 171 ; on worldly 
 offices filled by priests, 132 et 
 seq.; are the king's treasure, 
 174 ; feeling of Langland to- 
 wards the, 1 76 
 
 Communism, friars in favour of, 
 148 
 
 '•■ Complaynt of Mars and Venus,"' 
 168 
 
252 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Compromise, Langland averse to, 
 
 i8i 
 " Concupiscentia Carnis," 85 
 " ConFessio Amantis," 7 
 Conscience, refuses to kiss Meed, 
 
 27 ; averse to war witli France, 
 
 36, 52, 56, 176; checks the 
 
 king, 109 
 Constantine, 129 
 Conversion, a usual occurrence in 
 
 the life of mystics, 208 et seq. 
 Cooks, 23, 112, 113 
 Cornhill, 74 ; Langland's house 
 
 in, 95, 155, 158 
 *' Corsair," 171 
 Courtier, portrait of a, 159 
 Coveytise, 113; " of the eyghes," 
 
 99 
 
 Cowper, the poet, 213, 218 
 Crecy, i 5 
 
 Cripples, sham, 122 
 Crisis of 1376-7, 44 et seq. 
 Crowds, in Langland's Visions, 
 
 105 
 Crowley, Robert, 192 
 Crusades, Langland's opinion of, 
 
 114 
 
 D. 
 
 Damascus, Bishop of, 115 
 Daniel the " dys playcre," i 19 
 Dante, 193, 196, 197, 207 ; dif- 
 ferences with Langland, 21 i 
 David, 99 
 
 Dawe "the dykeman," 162 
 Death, 202 
 
 " De Bello Trojano," 171 
 " Dcdoublement de la pcrsonna- 
 lite," 1 01, 209 
 
 Deguileville, 8,9, 173 ; compared 
 
 with Langland, 198 ct seq. 
 Denifle, Father, 209 
 Denote "the baude," 119 
 Derby, Henry of (Henry IV.), 
 
 21 
 Dcs Champs, Eustache, 41, 175 
 Despencer, Henry le, Bishop of 
 
 Norwich, 18 
 Dialect ot Langland, 167 
 " Diboulie," loi 
 " Dirige " sung by Langland, 90, 
 
 9+ 
 
 Disease, 98 
 
 Doctors of divinity, 132, 135 
 
 Do-Evil, 82 
 
 Dog in kitchen, 174 
 
 Dogmas, Langland's respect for, 
 127 
 
 Dogs "that dare not bark," 146 
 
 Donyngton, Castell, 89 
 
 Doubts, Langland's, 98 et seq. 
 
 Douglas, Gawain, 191 
 
 Dover, 1 1 3 
 
 Dowel, Dobct, Dobest, 30, 82, 
 100, 14.7, 155, 185, 189, 190, 
 193, 207 
 
 Drayton, 192 
 
 Dream?, in "Pearl," 7, 1 2 ; of 
 Jean de Meun and G. de 
 Lorris, II ; of Chaucer, i 2 ; of 
 Gower, 12 ; of Langland, 85, 
 198 ; of Deguileville, 199 
 
 Dresses, extravagant, 116 
 
 Drought of 1370, 48 
 
 Dublin, MS. of, containing the 
 Visions of Langland, 62 et seq., 
 
 "Duchcsse," Book of the, 75 
 
INDEX. 
 
 253 
 
 Dugdale, W., 91 et seq. 
 Duties, their limits, 181 
 
 E. 
 
 Earthquakes, 19 
 
 Easter, 31, 239 
 
 Eckhart, 205 
 
 Editions of the Visions, printed, 
 192 
 
 Edward I. of England, 91 
 
 II. „ 15, 26 
 
 „ III. ,, summary 
 
 of his reign, 14, 15, 18; his 
 taste for pleasure, 20 ; his 
 French campaigns, 36, 118; 
 his last years, 47, 50 et seq., 
 54; his jubilee, 52, 55 ; con- 
 fers knighthood for money, 71, 
 108 ; gives up his rights to the 
 French throne, 176 
 
 Elizabeth, Oueen, 175, 191 
 
 England, Cardinal of, 52; me- 
 diaeval, 104 ; prelates'staying 
 in, 136 
 
 Envy, 148; described, 160 
 
 Essex, commons of, 189 
 
 Euphues, 83 
 
 Evan the Welshman, 28 
 
 Eve, 122, 204 
 
 Exeter, Joseph of, 171 
 
 F. 
 
 *' Faitours," 120, 122 
 
 Fals, 24, 194 
 
 Fals-Semblant, 138, 146, 157, 
 
 179 
 Fathers, the, quoted byLangland, 
 
 172 
 
 Felice, 85, 1 16 
 
 Flanders, 18 
 
 " Fleta," 65 
 
 Flora, Joachim de, 195 
 
 Fools, 70, 84, 1 16 
 
 Fortune, 97 
 
 Forestallers, 34, 35 
 
 Fox, George, 208, 213, 2 14 ^Y scq^ 
 
 France, war with, 16 ; peace 
 with, 16; mirth of, 140 ; pro- 
 sody of, 168; "lordschup" 
 over, 176 
 
 Franklin, 63, 69 ; Chaucer's, io5 
 
 Free man, Langland made one, by 
 Holy-Church, 66 et seq. 
 
 "Free Spirit," sect of the, 203 et 
 seq. 
 
 Friars, 26 ; with fat cheeks, 145 ; 
 described, 148 et seq. ; their 
 studies, 148 ; in favour of 
 communism, 148 ; shrive lords, 
 149 
 
 Friend of God in the Oberland, 
 the, 208 et seq. 
 
 "Friends," Society of, 215 
 
 " Friends of God," sect of the, 
 207 et seq. 
 
 French, Langland knows, 83 ; 
 songs sung by London work- 
 men, 172 
 
 Froissart, 22, 36, 37, 48, 107, 
 178 
 
 Fuller, Thomas, 190 
 
 " Garin," Roman de, 96 
 Garnier de PontSaintc Maxence, 
 142 
 
254 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Gascoigne, 191 
 
 Gaunt, John of, Duke of Lan- 
 caster, 20 ; his attitude in 
 1376-7, 46, 54; his tomb, 92 
 
 " Gawayne and the Green 
 Knight," Sir, 162 
 
 Gebhart, 1 44, 194, 195 
 
 Germany, mysticism in, 202 et 
 seq. ; pantheism in, 204 et seq. 
 
 Gertrud, her revelations, 207 
 
 Gladness-of-thc-World, 9, 202 
 
 Gloton, 9, 80 ; described, 161 et 
 seq.; Gower's Gloton, 163 ; 
 Rutebeuf's Gloton, 197 ; ex- 
 tracts concerning, 233 ^/ seq. 
 
 Gluttony, 200 
 
 Godfrey the garlilc monger, 162 
 
 Gold and silver not to be ex- 
 ported, 113 
 
 Golden Age, 54, 55 
 
 "Golden City," 216 
 
 "Golden Legend," 143 et seq., 
 172 
 
 Golias, 172 
 
 Gollancz, 12 
 
 " Good Parliament," see Parlia- 
 ment 
 
 Good Sense, 108 
 
 Gower, confessing to Genius, 7 ; 
 his statue, 7; his dreams, 12, 
 64, 74; his "Gloton," 163, 
 174, 191, 197 
 
 "Grace abounding," 215 
 
 Grace-of-God, 200 
 
 Green Island cloister, 210 
 
 Greyhounds, 139 
 
 Griffin the Welshman, 162 
 
 Grisilde, 175 
 
 Guns, used in hell, 30 
 
 Guyenne, 50 
 
 Gyle, welcomed by merchants, 
 25, 158 
 
 H. 
 
 Hakeborn, Matilda of, 207 
 Hall, the Satirist, 192 
 Hamlet, 23 
 
 Hampole, Rolle of, 85, 208, 213 
 Harrowing of Hell, 239 
 Hasard, a tavern-keeper in Rute- 
 
 beuf, 198 
 Haukyn, the "actyf man," 51, 
 
 173 
 Hawkwood, Sir John, 49 
 Henry IL of England, 92 
 
 „ ' in. „ 70 
 
 „ IV. „ 21 
 
 Herefordshire Beacon, 77 
 
 Hermits, 141 ; in woods, 143 ; 
 wicked, 144 et seq., 237 
 
 Hick the hackneyman, 162 
 
 Hierarchy, ecclesiastical, Lang- 
 land's respect for, 127 
 
 Hollar, 92 
 
 Holme, Roger, 94 
 
 Holy-Church, 24 ; helps to escape 
 servitude, 64 et seq., 66, 72 ; 
 holds Aristotle "ydampned," 
 99; guides Langland, 194 
 
 Hood, Robin, 136, 172 
 
 Horace, 191 
 
 " House of Fame," 74 
 
 Hugh the needier, 162 
 
 Hull, 118 
 
 Huband, J., 81 
 
 Hundred Years War, 175 
 
 Hunger, 29, 120 
 
 Hurricane, 19 
 
INDEX. 
 
 255 
 
 India, 135 
 
 Indulgences, \\(i et seq.^ 157 
 Inkstand, danger to be seen with 
 
 one, in 1 381, 190 
 Insular, Langland is one, Chaucer, 
 
 not, 175 
 Invitations from wealthy people, 
 
 70, 124. 
 Ireland, 50 
 Isaiah, 99 
 Isabella, wife of Edward III., 15 
 
 J- 
 
 Jack juggler, 1 19 
 
 Jacques Bonhommc, 197 
 
 Japers, 180 
 
 Jean-le-Bon, 15, 36 ; his ransom, 
 
 45> 119 
 Jehoshaphat, 78, \\\ 
 Jerusalem, 30 
 Jews, 17, 52, 113; their charity, 
 
 121 ; at Avignon, 131 ; their 
 
 usury, 161, 166, 184, 205, 210, 
 
 216 
 Job, Book of, 10 
 John Lackland, i 8 
 Jubilee of Edward III., 53 
 Judas, 121, 180 
 jundt, 203, 204, 205, 206, 209, 
 
 210 
 
 K. 
 
 Kalote, Langland's daughter, 96 
 King, the, his duty and functions, 
 107 ; in what measure a law- 
 maker, 108 et seq. ; vicar of 
 God according to Wyclif, 129 
 
 Knighton, 86 
 
 Knights, their duties and func- 
 tions, 107 et seq.., 115 et seq. ; 
 not meant to fast, 116; how 
 made by the king, 137 
 
 Kron, Richard, 167, 186 
 
 Kyndc (Nature), 185 
 
 Kynde Witte, 108 
 
 Kytte, Langland's wife, 96 
 
 La Bruyere, 159 
 
 Ladies, their duties, 29 ; not 
 
 bowed to by Langland, 97, 
 
 117; have ecclesiastics for 
 
 their servants, 132 
 La Fontaine, 41, 42 
 Lancaster, see Gaunt 
 Langland, W., sec Table of C"on- 
 
 tents 
 Langley, 62 
 Latin, Langland learns, 83 ; 
 
 alwavs translated by Langland, 
 
 173 
 
 Lawyers, Langland's opinion of, 
 121 
 
 Layamon, 168 
 
 Lazarus, 239 
 
 Lechery, depicted, 160 ; taste for 
 risque fabliaux, 161 
 
 Lee, S. L., 214 
 
 liCeches, 25 
 
 Legates, 1 16 
 
 "Legende of Good Women," 75 
 
 Legh, Thomas de, prior of Mal- 
 vern, 77 
 
 Leicester, 86 
 
 Letters of fraternity, 147 
 
256 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 " Levvedc men," Langland writes 
 for, not for connoisseurs, 174. 
 
 Leys, Thomas de, 8 1 
 
 " Liber Albus," 112 
 
 Limbo, 193 
 
 Lisbon, 19 
 
 Logic, 82 ; tauglit by Envy, 1^8 
 
 Lollcrs, 70 
 
 Lombards, 17, 113, 161 
 
 London, its lanes, 25, 158; 
 citizens, will not have a sleepy 
 king, 48 ; singing for souls in, 
 70, 95 ; wealthy inhabitants of, 
 to become knights, 71 ; Lang- 
 land's life in, 87 ; Tower of, 
 106 ; workmen ot, sing French 
 songs, 172 
 
 " Longc Wille," nickname of 
 Langland, 61, 219 
 
 Longlond, another form of Lang- 
 land, 59 
 
 Lords, not bowed to by Langland, 
 97; discuss the Trinity, 124; 
 shriven by friars, 149 ; should 
 reform the abuses of church- 
 men, 129; have ecclesiastics 
 for their stewards, 132 
 
 Lords Appellant, 21 
 
 Lorraine, Walcher of, prior of 
 Malvern, 79 
 
 Lorris, Guillaume de, compared 
 with Langland, 196 
 
 Louis XI\^, 1 10 
 
 Love, 31, 181, 185 
 
 Lucca, 49 
 
 Lucifer, 30, 99, 239, 240 
 
 Lucilius, 191 
 
 Lydgate, 8, 191, 199 
 
 Lyer, 25 
 
 M. 
 
 Magdalen, Mary, 99 
 Magdeburg, Matilda of, 207 
 Mahon, a devil, 240 
 Maidstone, Richard of, 58 
 Maintenance, 34, 35, 114 
 Malmesbury, William of, 76, 77 
 Malvern, 8, 23, 28, 43, 60, 62, 
 
 73 ; fondness of Langland for, 
 
 74 ('/ seq. ; origins of the 
 religious establishment at, 75 
 et seq. ; description of, 77 et 
 seq. ; the church at, 78 ^/ seq., 
 79, 121, 139, 141, 153, 156, 
 163, 167, 171, 195 
 
 Manuscripts of" Piers Plowman," 
 186 et seq., 191 
 
 Mare, Peter de la, speaker, 45, 
 46 
 
 Mare, Thomas de la, abbot of St, 
 Albans, 46 
 
 Mareschall, William, 92 
 
 Marriage, Langland's opinions, 
 concerning, 121 et seq. 
 
 Marsyas, 21 I 
 
 Mauny, Oliver de, 61 
 
 Measure, 174 
 
 Meaux, near Beverley, 19 
 
 Meed, Lady, on " a Schirreves 
 bak," 7, 33 ; her confession, 9; 
 her portrait, 24 ; and marriage, 
 25, 26, 220; at the king's 
 tribunal, 26; her supporters, 
 22, 26; Conscience hates, 26, 
 32 ; on good terms with the 
 pope, 34, 54, 56, 132, 133, 
 135 ; confesses to a friar, 150; 
 name of, engraved on window, 
 150 ; triumphs, 178 ; a female 
 
INDEX. 
 
 257 
 
 Proteus, 180 et seq. ; Piers 
 Plowman's opinion of, 182 
 
 Merchants, 25 ; their duties, I 18, 
 158; " timber " too high, 166 
 
 Meres, F., 191 
 
 Meri, Huon de, 198 
 
 Merswin, Rulman, 206, 207 ct 
 seq. ; his works, 209 ; resembles 
 Langland, 209 et seq., 213 
 
 "Merry Knack," a play, 188 
 
 " Mesons-Dieux," 118 
 
 Messengers, 25 
 
 Methodists, 217 
 
 Meun, Jean de, 149, 150; com- 
 pared with Langland, 196 
 
 Meyer, Paul, 41 
 
 Mice, fable of, 39 et seq., 109, 224 
 
 Millet, the painter, 166 
 
 Milton, 30, 165, 192 
 
 Minstrels, 23, 25, 117, 124 
 
 " Miracles," Cour des, 122 
 
 Miracles, false, 133 
 
 Miracles, by Wesley, 217 ; 
 Bunyan on, 217 
 
 Miser, described, 161 ; refuses to 
 lend to the poor, 161 
 
 Monks, 137 et seq.; their food, 
 137 ; whipped, 137 ; Lang- 
 land lenient to, 140 
 
 Montaigu, Claude de, 9 
 
 Moors, 216 
 
 Morris, R., 169 
 
 Mortimer, i 5 
 
 Murimuth, Continuator of, 19, 
 
 35> 38, 52> 53 
 Murrains, 19 
 Muses, 21 1 
 
 Musset, Alfred de, 154 
 Mysticism in Germany, 202 
 
 N. 
 Nash, historian of Worcestershire, 
 
 77 
 Nature, 31, 185, 200 
 Nazareth, Bishop of, I 14 
 Norman Conquest, 168, 212; 
 
 genius, 177 
 Nott, James, 77, 8 i 
 "Nuit de Decerabre," 154 
 Nunnery, Wrath in a, 138 
 
 O. 
 
 Oberland, Friend of God in the, 
 
 zo% et seq. 
 Observation, Langland's gift of, 
 
 158 et seq. 
 Ochsenstein, J., of, 205 
 Odin, 211, 212 
 Oiseuse, Lady, 200 et seq. 
 Oldfield, E., 79 
 Optimism of Langland, 183 
 Orgon, Molicre's, 143 
 Ovid, 172 
 Oxford, 21, 60, 81 
 
 P. 
 
 Padua, 175 
 Pagans, 216 
 Painswick, J. de, 77 
 " Paladis Tamia," 191 
 Pantheism in Germany, 204 
 Paradise won by proxy, 88 
 Paradise, Dante's, 193, 211 ; of 
 
 the "Free Spirit" sect, 204 
 Pardoners, 13, 23, 25, 147 
 Pardons, Piers Plowman's, 157 
 Paris, town of, 63 ; Matthew of, 
 
 63 
 
 Paris, Paulin, 61, 199 
 Parish Priests, 148 
 
258 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Parliament, increasing authority 
 of, 15 ; Rolls of, 28 ; petitions 
 in, 34 ; the "Good," 45 et seq., 
 54, no. III, 114, 115, 131 ; 
 the "Bad," 46, 53, 54; grants 
 in view of French war, 50 ; 
 "prvve Parliament" of 1398, 
 57, 1 10, 241 ; Visions seem a 
 commentary on Rolls of, 71 ; 
 Chaucer sits in, 106 ; Froissart's 
 opinion of, 107 ; Langland's 
 opinion of, 107 ct seq. ; " Pees " 
 in, ic8 ; feeling of Langland 
 towards, 109 et seq., 183 ; 
 meeting of, 241 
 
 Parson, good, of Chaucer, 136; 
 bad, of Langland, 1 36 et seq., 
 
 235 
 Parsons go to London, 132; 
 
 derided by friars, 148 
 " Passus," or cantos, 23 
 " Pastoures," their faith, 99, 238 
 Patrons of benefices, 135 
 Peace, in Parliament, 28 ; with 
 
 France, 35, 114, 176 
 "Pearl," 12 
 Pearson, on the name and family 
 
 of Langland, 61 et seq., 73 
 Peasants, their rising in 138 i, 21, 
 
 104, 190 ; their poverty, 122; 
 
 wives and children of, 123, 
 
 236 ; food of, 123, 236 
 Pedlars, known to kill cats, 161 
 Pedro the Cruel, King of Spain, 
 
 61 
 "Pelerinage de la Vic humaine," 
 
 "de I'Ame," " de Jesus Christ," 
 
 198 et seq. 
 Pembroke, William earl of, 92 
 
 Penitence, 200 
 
 Penshurst, in Kent, 125 
 
 Penury, 98 
 
 Percy, Bishop, 192 
 
 Pernell, 116, 138, 162 
 
 Ferrers, Alice, 20, 45, 46, 178 
 
 Peruzzi, 20 
 
 Petrarca, 175 
 
 "Philobiblon," 67 
 
 Philpot, John, his speech, 1 1 1; 
 
 Piers of Priedieu, a priest, 162 
 
 Piers Plowman, his wife and 
 daughter, 27 ; a variable em- 
 blem, 29, 155 ; his ploughing, 
 29 ; will feed every one, 118; 
 except useless people, 119 et 
 seq. ; Truth's pilgrim, 119, 
 166; Langland visits, 123; 
 safeguard of State, 125 ; his 
 opinion of Meed, 182; his 
 fate and influence in the XVth 
 century, and since, 187 et seq. ; 
 on the stage, 188 ; misinter- 
 preted at the time of the 
 Reformation, 190 
 
 Pilgrims, 23, 141. 
 
 "Pilgrim's Progress," 158, 216 
 
 Pillory, 112, 113 
 
 Pisa, 49 
 
 Pisan {i.e., Pisa), Christine of, 61 
 
 " Placebo," 90 ; sung by Lang- 
 land, 94 
 
 Plagues, 18, 38, 51 ; supple- 
 mentary ordinations on account 
 of, 65, 86; effect on marriages, 
 121, 122 
 
 Plato, 148, 172, 193 
 
 Players, 1 17 
 
 Ploughing the field of life, 29 
 
INDEX. 
 
 259 
 
 Ploughman, Chaucer's, 187; tale, 
 prayer, complaint, creed, ex- 
 hortation of the, x'i'j et seq. 
 
 Poictiers, battle of, 15 
 
 Poll tax of 1377, 54 
 
 Poor, the, God's minstrels, 117 ; 
 resignation taught to, 184. 
 
 " Poure folke in cotes," 236 
 
 Poor priests, Wyclif's, 127 
 
 Pope, the, his excessive power 
 checked by the Commons, 17 ; 
 decrease of his prestige, 18 ; 
 stays at Avignon, 18 ; the 
 schism, 18; bulls of. for the 
 time of the plague, 51, 65; 
 Langland's feelings towards, 
 128 ; temporal power, army, 
 intrusion of, 128 ; Dante on, 
 
 193 
 Porphiry, 172 
 
 "Praemunire," 17, 32, 33, 128 
 Prayer, 94, 202 
 Preger, W., 203, 204, 210 
 Priest, explains Piers Plowman's 
 
 pardon, I 57 
 Priests fill worldly offices, 132 
 Prioresse, 180 
 Prisoners, 141 
 Proteus, 179, 181 
 Proverbs in Langland, 174 
 Provins, Guyot de, 19S 
 ■•■ Provisors," 17, 26, 32, 33, 128 
 Psalms, singing of, 85 
 Ptolemy, 172 
 Purgatory, 99, 147 
 Puritans, 104 
 Purveyors, 34, 35, 113 
 Puttenham, 191 
 Pyrenees, 175 
 
 Ouakers, 20S, 2 i 5 
 Ouatt, alias Malvern, 81 
 Quotations, Langland's, 172. 
 
 R. 
 
 Ragamoff'yn, a devil, 239 
 
 Rat-catchers, 162 
 
 Ratons, " of renon," 7 ; fable of, 
 109, 224 et seq. ; representa- 
 tion of, at Malvern, 43 
 
 Reason, 27 ; his horses, 27 ; 
 addresses the nation, 28 ; sits 
 between the king and his son, 
 39' 5O' 52 ; reign of, 54; 
 " arates " Langland, 68, 97, 
 100 ; on servants, 1 1 1 
 
 Relics, sham, 132, 133 
 
 Religion, a " ryder," 138 et seq. 
 
 Repentance, 28 ; town of, in 
 Rutebeuf, 198 
 
 Rhine, 203 ; heretics drowned 
 in, 204 
 
 Ribot, Th., on diseases oi the 
 will, 100 et seq. 
 
 Richard IL, summary of his reign, 
 20 ; childless, 39; "the Rede- 
 less," 43, 102, 116, 241, +7 ; 
 loses his popularity, 56 et seq. ; 
 quarrel of, with the Londoners, 
 57, 58, 108, 109 
 
 Rich people, their fate, 174 
 
 Ridley, Bishop, 191 
 
 Rising of peasants [see Peasants) 
 
 Rocamadour, 141, 142 
 
 Rogers, Owen, 192 
 
 Rokayle, Stacy of, supposed father 
 of Langland, 62 et seq. 
 
26o 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Romagna, 49 
 
 "Roman de la Rose," 120, 136, 
 
 138, 139' 146, 149' 150, 173' 
 179 et seq., 193, 196, 199 
 
 Rome, 17 ; appeals to, 34; re- 
 ligious life in, 87, 129, 130, 
 131, 141 ; Piers Plowman 
 comes from, i 57 
 
 Rossetti, G. D., 219 
 
 Rutebeuf, 173 ; compared with 
 Langland, 197 et seq. 
 
 Ruysbroek, 209 
 
 St. Anthony, the hermit, 143 
 St. David's, Bishop of, his speech 
 
 in Parliament, 49, 51 
 St. Elizabeth of Schonau, 206 
 St. Erkenwald, 91 
 St. Francis, 117, 148, 195 
 St. Hildegard, 206, 208 
 St. James of Spain, 141, 142 
 St. Paul, 99 
 St. Paul's Catiiedral, London, 8, 
 
 ()\ et seq. 
 St. Thomas of Canterbury, 24, 
 
 142, 135 
 St. Wcrstan, 75 
 St. Wulfstan, Bishop of Worcester, 
 
 76 
 Salisbury, Countess of, 20 
 
 „ Thomas Montacute, 
 
 Earl of, 199 
 Saracens, are spies, 113; should 
 be converted, 114, 166, 184, 
 205, 210 
 Satan, 30 
 Savoy, palace of the, 106 
 
 Saxon genius, 177 ; recognisable 
 in Langland, 182 et seq. 
 
 Schepe, J., 189 
 
 Schism of 1378, 18 
 
 Schismatics, 184 
 
 Schmidt, Ch., 210 
 
 Scotland, 45 
 
 Scott, Gilbert, 79 
 
 Scriptures, Langland's knowledge 
 of the, l"! et seq. 
 
 Sebba, King, 91 
 
 Seneca, 148 
 
 Serfs escape servitude, 65 et seq. 
 
 Seven Deadly Sins, 28, 193, 197 
 
 Seven Sleepers, 172 
 
 Shelley, 219 
 
 Shipton under Wichwood, 62 
 
 Shrewsbury, Parliament at, 57 
 
 Sienna, 49 
 
 Simony, 32, 128, 134, 136, 142 
 
 Skeat, Rev. W. W., 18, 22, 49, 
 
 5I) 52> 54' 55' 57' 5^5 61, 
 
 102, 127, 169, 186, 187, 191, 
 
 192 
 Skelton, 191 
 " Sleuthe," 139 
 "Slough of Despond," 216 
 Slourtre, J., 81 
 Sluys, Battle of, 1 5 
 Smith, L. Toulmin, 41 
 Socrates, 193 
 Solomon, 99 
 
 " Songe du Vergier," 129 
 Southampton, 86 
 Southwark, 24 
 Spain, 5c, 135 
 Spenser, family of, 62 
 Stacy of Rokayle, supposed father 
 
 of Langland, 62 et seq. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 261 
 
 "Steel Glas," 191 
 Strasbourg, 203, 206, 210 
 Strikes, 1 1 1 
 Stuarts, 108, 109 
 Stubbs, Bishop, 57 
 Study, Dame, 30, 82, 84, 98 
 Style, Langland's, 156 et seq., 164 
 et seq. ; his " trouvailles," 165 
 Suso, Henry, 207 
 Switzerland, 203 
 Syria, 136 
 
 T. 
 
 Tabard Inn, 23 
 
 Tailors, 145 
 
 Taine, 120 
 
 Tarrant-Kaincs, 203 
 
 Tavern scene, 233 
 
 Tempests, 37, 38, 39 
 
 Ten Commandments, 158 
 
 Thames, 174 
 
 Theology, 82, 98 et seq. 
 
 Thompson, E. Maunde, 46, 189 
 
 Thom«, W., 177 
 
 Thought, loi ; appears to Lang- 
 land, 153^^ seq. 
 
 Tonsure, 66 et seq. 
 
 " Tournoiement de I'Antechrist," 
 198 
 
 Trajan, 193 ; why saved, 194 
 
 Transitions, none in Langland's 
 Visions, i 55 
 
 Trent, Council of, 147 
 
 Trewman, Johan, 189. 
 
 Truth, 122, 141 ; land of, 146 ; 
 tower of, 158, 182, 193, 196 
 
 Tullius, 172 
 
 Tumblers, 117 
 
 Twysden, 86 
 
 Tyburn, hangman of, 162 
 Tyrwhitt, 38, 192 
 
 U. 
 
 Urban III., 18 
 
 Urie, 99 
 
 Utopia, island of, 30 
 
 V. 
 
 Valhalla, 21 1 
 
 Valkyrias, 21 1 
 
 Versification of Langland, 168 
 
 Vesuvius, 153 
 
 Villeins escape bondage, 1 1 i 
 
 Villon, 182 
 
 Virgil, 14, 194 
 
 Visconti, Barnabo, 49 
 
 Visions of Dante, 12; of Lang- 
 land, 13,14,22; analysed, 23 ; 
 beginning of, 223 
 
 Vocabulary of Langland, 166 
 
 Voragina, James of, 143 
 
 "Voyage de Paradis," 173, 197 
 et seq. 
 
 W. 
 
 Walcott, 90 
 
 Wages, regulated by State, 1 1 1 
 
 Wales, 77 
 
 Walsingham, town of, 143 
 
 Walsingham, Thomas, 19, 38, 53, 
 178, 190 
 
 Waltham, Roger de, 93 
 
 War, against France, royal, not 
 national, 15, 176; opinion of 
 Langland on, 35 ; between two 
 Christian kings, 48 ; papal, 48 
 et seq. ; subsidies in view of. 
 
262 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 with France, 40 ; Hundred 
 Years, 175, 178 
 
 Warton, 192 
 
 Warwick, Guy of, 84, 172 
 
 Way, Albert, 79 
 
 Webbe, William, 191 
 
 Wengham, J. de, 94 
 
 Wesley, zid et seq. 
 
 Westminster, 91, 96, 106, 121, 
 128, 171 
 
 Weyhill, fair at, 161 
 
 Whipping, in chapter-house, 137 
 
 Whitaker, editor of Langland, 192 
 
 Whitefield, 216 et seq. 
 
 " William," the name of Lang- 
 land, 59 et seq. 
 
 Will, diseases of the, 100 et seq. 
 
 Winchester fair, 161 
 
 Wit, 30, 84 
 
 Woman, "comune," 147 ; true, 
 
 151 
 
 Worcester, 62, 76, 77. 
 Wordsworth, 74, 78 
 Workhouses, 120 
 World, the, Langland on, chap. 
 
 IV., 103 ^/ seq. 
 Wrath, 137, 200 
 Wright, Th., 192 
 " Wronge," 24, 28, 34, 108, 114 
 Wulfstan, 76 
 Wyclif, 21, 60, 104, 1 1 5, 127, 
 
 128, 129, 131, 148 ; his doctrine 
 
 in Bohemia, 205 
 
 Y. 
 
 Ydolatrie, 133 
 
 Ymagynatyf, 85, 100, 163, 208 
 
 York, 189 
 
 Youth, 202 
 
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