Ryddles for the Holidayes

As ye knowe, my grete freende the writere Virginia Wulfstan doth love tradiciounal literature, and she hath devoted herself to gatheringe bits of oold literature and publisshing them for the Hrothgar Press. And alwey she ys pilinge manuscriptes and oold bookes upon my doorstep. Al thogh she hath nat convynced me of the gretenesse of the alliterative long lyne, Virginia speketh trewe about the grete awesomeness of muchel of the earlye literature of thys countrye, althogh yt oft soundeth lyk unto a Klingon wyth a stomach compleynt.

Oon the best bookes that Virginia Wulfstan hath to me y-loaned ys ful of grete riddles. Thes are thinges of muchel pleasure, for ye the redere must guess the answere of the thinge. Ryddles are totallye a waye to passe the tyme at awkward familye dinneres, and thei maken me to thynke that the Anglo-Saxones must have had many awkwarde familye situacions to endure, what wyth the feudinge and all. And eek peraventure ryddles were a waye to breaken the ice whan meetinge othir riddle enthusiastes duringe holidaye travel.

For yower pleasure, Ich have found sum of the riddles yn the old booke of Exeter yiven me by Virginia Wulfstan, and Ich have translatid those concerninge thys festive seson of the holidayes. No answirs shal Ich pooste, for Ich wisshe nat to ruine yower fun.

THE RIDDLES OF THE EXETER BOOKE CONCERNINGE ASPECTS OF THE HOLIDAYE SESOUN, TRANSLATID YNTO PROPER ENGLISSHE BY G. CHAUCER

Ryddle:

Everye familye hath me yn a separate forme;
My bodye ys made of bacones companioun,
And sprinkled wyth spicerye that kan spinne straunge visions.
Were thou to looke on a liste of my partes
A cake thou might thynke me, or confeccioun swete,
Yet wyth the addicioun supplyed by adults
Ich kan crusshe down alle earth-dwellers as no cake evir koud,
Nor no bundt hath a byte as brutal as myne.
Ich am unholye unguent, uncles bane – what am Ich?

Ryddle:

A man crepeth yn and taketh me from the crawelspace,
Thanne setteth me up yn ceremonye, yet no sylver doth he circle round me.
Ich heare many harde wordes, and watch manye wrestlinges.
Thogh neyther green nor graythed wyth golde, grand am Ich,
Talle do Ich stande, thogh no armes nor no legges Ich ne have:
Ich am for the rest of us: saye nowe my name.

Ryddle:

At a tabel thei pulle at my heed and my feet.
Ich perisshe wyth a pop, yet presentes Ich bringe:
A crowne for the cruel oon who cleaved me in twayne.
Yet thogh crowned lyk kinge, he shal know muchel care:
For yn the scroll of my bodye are writ woful puns,
And thogh he looke longe, laughe shal he nevir.

Ryddle:

An enemye murdered me, made me molten,
Shaped me in castes, cooled me and set me.
In me he set splendors manye, spelles to werke,
The newefangle conjurations that make nerdes rich
And paie for manye a prius yn the baye area.
He gave me a wyde face, on which ys writ
Alle that any crafty one mighte wisshe to knowe.
The shapes of my word-scars are made wythout winges --
No sky-fowles need feel death-sore to craft my chapters.
Ich shal leave no meal for the sound-moth,
No warm place for the page-worm,
For Ich am a cold castel, thogh called a fyre.
Ich am yiven as a gift this yeere, a default item
For relatives that seeme to have everythinge els.
Hippolytas daughtirs made me, hard ys my shell.

Ryddle:

Yonge and oold wayte for me
For Ich come oonly on one daye.
Sum tyme Ich bringe regeneracioun,
And sum tyme Ich bringe tales of sharkes that flye.
Yet no sharke evir shal Ich jumpe,
For Ich am eterne.
Who, who, who, am Ich?

Ryddle:

Ich am a human as thou art, thogh part somethynge els –
Yower shape Ich weare somewhat, yet straunge ye wolde fynde me.
In waste and fastness Ich lyve, and Ich wish warre upon yow.
No room yn my herte for the glee of the harpe,
And yower singinge doth spur me to hatred and plots.
Saye my name soothly, yt beginneth wyth G.

Ryddle:

Ich broghte merciless shame upon a grete myth
Many yeeres bifor the poyson of prequels appeared.
Thos heroes ye love look hilarious within me,
And even a queen bea kan nat make me swete.
Yet ful often sum fannes fynde mirthe yn my madnesse,
Thogh Ich make them itchy and lumpy, thei love me yet.
And thei traded me yn tapes that thei took to convenciouns
Until the yeares of yetube whanne al kan see me with eye.
On thys daye of lyf, on thys special daye of sterres,
Telle me, force wyth yow, what ye thynke Ich am.

Ryddle:

A fyre-brand Ich beare, on the boss of my brain-shield,
Before me a bright beacon to blynk in the nighte.
Yif ye gazed on my head-prow, that it glewen ye wolde sweare.
Thogh al my stable-feres did laugh me to scorne,
And lefte me no leave to laughen in their lapp-horses games,
Yet oon morninge whanne erthe-breathe stuck thike to the welkin,
The proud-furred man cleped me to the front of hys teame.
He needed my flame, the fierce shyne of my sneeze-door.
Ich did leade the warband that nighte. What ys my name?

A Holidaye Uppe-Date

My gentil rederes,

Long tyme hath it ben sithen Ich have upon my blog yposted. Ywis, many a thinge hath been afoot chez Chaucer. Yif ye wisshe for some japes and games for the holidayes, ye maye turne the leef and skippe to the next poost, but for newes of yower Chaucer, rede on.

O gentils, ye looke nowe upon the wordes of an EX-clerk of the kinges werkes. Ich have that office y-quit, the which Ich have held for quite a while nowe. By seynte Martin, that job demaundid the verye clothes off my back! Whanne Ich was not consumed wyth the bisynesse of construccion and logistiques, Ich was beinge robbed and audited. Oftymes Ich knewe nat whethir yt was a robberie or an audit, so litel ys the distinction bitwene the exchequer and a derke forest ful of brigandes.

But farewell clerkeshep! Ich have rendered my notyce of thirty dayes unto My Lord the Kyng, and am nowe a free man. The drainage of the area bitwene Greenwich and Woolwich kan take the hekke care of ytself, by Jesu, and eek kan the manye and varyed requestes that a clerke of the werkes doth receyve dailye from My Lord the Kynge, includinge the creacioun of the moost elaborate allegoricale model raylroade yn Europe (“The Greate Traine of Being”) and eek a crystal palace cunninglye devysed ynto which no rumors or newes concerninge Justin de Beibre kan evir passe. To the laste requeste, Ich threwe my handes ynto the aire and seyde that Ich ne was no Dedalus nor no Pythagoras, and yif the kyng wanted me to do the impossible he sholde sende me to wizard school.

Soon Ich shal looke for a newe job, but for the nones Ich am enjoyinge sum tyme to followe my hobbyes. Ich have taken up ayein my grete avocation – the subtil and excellent sporte of parkour. Yt ys a thinge of muchel blessedness to scalen the walles of breweryes or merchauntes houses and to leape and jumpe about lyk unto a very agile smal deere or verye powerful rabbit. Sum tyme my Lord the Kyng doth joyne me for my practise of parkour. We have grete pleasure yn clymbynge to the toppe of steeples or gret toweres whereupon eagles do perche, and we beholde the gret beautee of the contree al aboute us, and thanne oft we dyve down into a conveniently placed cart ful of hay. This oon tyme we ran ynto an Italien yclept Ezio in ower cart, that was from Florence, and he and Ich talkid a litel bit about ower favourite partes of the Purgatorio.

And what wyth al thys leapinge and jumpinge (the which hath in deed caused me to lose some weight, thogh Ich am stille far from the state of my youthe), Ich have had but litel tyme for to bloggen.

But alwey Ich do wake earlye in the morninges in thys festive sesoun, and thus Ich thoghte Ich wolde with yow gentils share sum mirthe for the holidayes. Ye maye fynde yt in the next poost.

Wyth al of my greete love and affecioun, and grete and good wisshes for yow and yoweres,

Le Vostre

GC

A Message from the Pardoner About Synneflix

Gentil rederes,

Ye maye have noticed that many thinges have chaunged wyth the "Synneflix" servys of the Hospital of St. Mary of Rouncesvalles ovir the past monethes. And yet todaye hath born a thinge of grete joye. BSR! (By Seynt Ronyon!) for the Pardoner himselfe hath written an emayle ful of grete care and wo and muchel language of lamentacioun, lyk unto the worke of Margerye Kempe. And in thys message he doth share al the conseil of his compayne Synneflix regarding the divers varietees of penaunce thei do nowe offere. Ich do use the magique of cutte and paste to putte the emayle heere, if ye have nat yet gazed upon it.

Very busye, but love to yow alle,

LVGC

--

AN EMAIL FROM THE CHEEF PARDONER OF ST. MARY ROUNCESVALLES (i.e. SYNNEFLIX)

FROM: CHIEF PARDONER OF ST. MARY ROUNCESVALLES, AND LEDERE OF SYNNEFLIX
TO: OWER LOYALE BRETHREN AND SISTREN
RE: TRADITIOUNAL PENAUNCE VERSUS INDULGENCES VIA SYNNEFLIX

Mea maxima culpa. Ich moste maken explanacioun unto yow alle. Ich do wryte thys emayle aftir Ich have walked twelve tymes the roade from London to Canterbury and back wearinge no shoon and IV hayre-shirtes.

It appeareth from the feed-backe over the laste fewe fortnightes that many feythful soules did thinke we at Synneflix lakked in dignitee and humbleness by cause of the maner in which we did announcen the separacioun of tradiciounal penaunce and ower newe sale of indulgences, and eek the chaunges of donacioun required for ech different mode of achievinge spiritual helthe. Swich a thing was nat ower entente, and Ich do praye yow all may me pardon. Nowe Ich shall telle yow of how this cam to pass.

For many a yeere, my gretest feere for the Hospital of St. Mary Rouncesval and ower compaye of Synneflix hath been that we wolde nat maken the chaunge from success in regular penaunce to success in indulgences. Moost hooly orderes that have a knakke at sum thinge – lyk Cluny at beinge verye solemn or the Cistercianes at clearinge forestes – do nat become grete at noveltees that the folke desyre as the yeeres do passe (for us, this thinge is indulgences), by cause thei have greete feere of harminge their initiale actes of devocioun, or, as Odo of Cluny seyde, "ruininge the brand." In the ende, thes orderes com upon the realisacioun too late that thei have nat yiven enough labour to the development of newe practises, and thei lose all donaciouns and patronage and then sum newe order taketh ovir and getteth all the glorye, lyk the Franciscans.

Heere at Synneflix we are makinge a ful faste trasmutacioun, and yet Ich have nat written unto yow, deere brethren and sistren, and in that Ich have synned gretely ayeinst yow. Forsake nat yower spiritual kindred at Synneflix, that have alwey cared deeplye about removinge synne from yower soule and sylver from yower purs.

In the eye of my minde Ich see that as thes chaunges did come in ower systemes, Ich was soore tempted unto pryde by cause of the grete spirituale victories of the past. Long tyme, our hous hath thryved by makinge bettir ower servyces of penaunce, without muchel communicacioun from me to yow, our customers.

But nowe me peyneth soore that Ich have nat come amonge yow, in yower parisshe churches, and yiven unto yow, goode men and women, a justificacioun of the resons wherefor we aren separatinge tradiciounal penaunce and indulgences, and charginge moore for both. And eek if I do come to yower churches Ich also have some hoolye clawes of a velociraptor that, whenne plaunted in the grounde, do cause alle croppes to growe wyth grete vigor.

But ynogh about velociraptores: herkneth, lordinges, and Ich shall explayne our conseil and ower acciouns as in this caas. For as every soule doth knowe, radix malorum est absentia bonarum publicarum relationum.

Many goode soules love ower penaunce servyce, as Ich do, for it covereth nearlye everye synne that humankinde kan devise, and several othirs knowne oonly to Carolus de Sheene. We at Synneflix want to advertise the breadthe of ower incredible tradiciounal penaunce so that folk in every shire of Engelonde knowe that yt ys stille heere, and is a grete option for thos who wisshe to have their synnes absolved wythout a shadewe of a doubt. True penaunce in the olde style perchaunce may nat enduren for aye, but we wisshe yt to laste as longe as yt mighte. At leaste that ys what we are sayinge.

Yet Ich have grete love for ower indulgences, by cause thei are integrated ynto my TV, and Ich can receyve pardon a pena and a culpa eny tyme Ich do desyre. The benefits of ower indulgences are of a different and moore lucrative nature than the benefits of tradiciounal penaunce. We feele the neede to focus on rapid improvement as indulgence and pardon technologies evolve, wythout havinge to mayntainen compatibilitee wythe ower tradiciounal penaunce servyse.

So we did come to the realisacioun that penaunce and indulgences are becominge two busynesses that have bitwene them a grete diversitee, wyth verye different cost structures, different benefits that need to be marketed in different wyse, and different theological, eschatological, and liturgical implicaciouns, and we need to let ech oon growe and function on its owene. Yt is a soore thynge for me to saye this unto yow aftir many yeeres of yiving esy tradiciounal penaunce wyth pryde, but we we thynk it is necessarye and beest: in yet a few weekes, we shal yiven a newe name unto ower tradiciounal penaunce servyse, and we shal clepen yt “Slothster.”

We did choose the name “Slothster” for that it maketh reference to the sloth of which ye are guiltee if ye com nat to penaunce. We shall kepe the name Synneflix for indulgences aloon.

For me, the practys of traditional penaunce hath always been a thynge of joye, especiallye by cause our customers have putte their sylver into niftie red envelopes to signifien the payne of their sadnesse at their sinne. O, Ich do love thos red envelopes. How thei do tend to pyle up in the treasurie! Ower Slothster servys shal stille involve alle of thes steps, including the red envelopes.

And yet why nat consider indulgences? Reallye, seriouslye. Thei aren muchel faster, and ye can even purchas them upon yower Exboxe CCCLX.

Ye maye wisshe to purchas an indulgence eftsoon, for peraventure aftir redinge of thys message ye shal comen upon a peinture of a kitten wyth a lightsaber and ye shal laughen so harde that ye shal perisshe from this worlde. And then thy soule shal crye in helle for thou hast nat purchased an indulgence from us. Trewleye, ye shalle be ROTFITOD, or "rollinge on the floore in the outer darknesse."

Some theologians will likely thinken that we sholde nat splitte traditiounal penaunce and indulgences, for that it playeth faste and loose wyth doctrine. And sum "penaunce one poynt oh" folkes may saye that we sholde nat rename our tradiciounal penaunce “Slothster” for that swich a name tendeth to maken tradiciounal penaunce sound less attractif.

Ower viewe is that with this divisioun of the busynesses, we shal spreade moore blessedness thurgh the sale of indulgences, and we shal sprede moore blessedness thurgh tradiciounal penaunce. It may hap that we shal fynde we have chaunged too hastily – yet that lieth in the future and no man may know aught of it. Goinge forward, Slothster wille continue to runne the best tradiciounal penaunce servys, while Synneflix wille offer the best indulgence for many maner of synnes, hopefullye thurghout the globe of the erthe thurgh the succour of Brother Broadbande and Suster Aethernet.

It trewely doth myn herte good, moore so than a draughte of moyste and corny ale, that so many of yow brethren and sistren did sticken wyth us, and Ich aske grete pardon of thos who felt that we were despitous or shewinge of hoker or bisemare in ower treatement of them.

Wyth alle love and affecioun, and many a kisse of felawshep,

Le Vostre

PARDONER IN CHIEF

P.S. Wolde any of yow wisshe to purchas the undershirt of screen legend Anthony Quinn? Yt is a thinge of grete value and ich kan guarantee yts authenticitee. And eek ther are also a fewe of the holy grayle for sale as well.

Additiouns to the Boke of Sir John Mandeville

Gentil rederes,

For a loong tyme, my grete freende and sum-tyme co-blogger, the noble Knight Sir John Mandeville, hath been compylinge a booke of travels, in which he recordeth the grete wondirs of the worlde and eek which hotel to staye yn whan ye visit the reaume of Prester John and swich lyk mattirs.

Recentlye, Sir John hath emailed me wyth sum addiciouns to hys booke, the whiche Ich do pooste upon thys litel blog at hys requeste. Peraventure thys wisdam of sondrye londes shal be of use to yow, good rederes, yf ye are planninge to travel yn the somer monthes.

Be safe yn yower travels, good folk, and be ware of swich beestes as the Honey Badger,

-Le Vostre
GC


ADDENDA TO THE BOOKE OF SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE

OF THE DOUBLEDE RAINBOWE

Yn the lande of Californie Ich, John Mandeville, did see a doublede rainbowe. In the name of Jesu! Yt was a doublede rainbowe, all-wei. Lo, yt was a wonder. Lo! Avant! Ha! Ho! Hale! Oho! By Jesu! Regarde yt! Yt beginneth to seme as it wolde be even a triplede rainbowe. By the Ark upon which Noah did sayle the see, yt ys fulle on. By Jesu! By Jesu! What doth swich a wondir meane? By Jesu! Yt shyneth so gretely. Oho! Yt shyneth full fayre and good to see. Lo! Avant! Yt ys ful fayre to looke upon. By Jesu! By Jesu! Yt ys a doublede fulle rainbowe! By Jesu! What doth yt meane? Telle yt unto me. I know nat what maner of signifiaunce ther ys for swich a merveil. By Jesu, yt ys a wonder. Lo! Ha! Lo! By Jesu!

At the which poynte, oon of my felawes seyde to me “By any chaunce, art thou related to Margery Kempe?”

OF THE TOWNE OF FUNKE

Thogh Ich did talke about yt, and talke about yt, noone of the inhabitaunts of thys regioun wolde take me unto thys place.

OF THE CATTE OF NYAN

And sum men seye that in the ile of Langos ys the doghter of Ypocrasis who hath been transformid. She appeareth yn the maner of a grete pye of swete berryes wyth the hede and limbes of a catte, and the which singeth a songe of Nyan as it daunceth acrosse the skye. And yt ys seyde that he who kan watche thys catte for longir than eny other man, he shal have the doghter of Ypocras who shal turn ageyn yn to hir owene kinde and be a woman. But the songe ys of swich a nature that no man can heare yt and lyve.

OF THE CITEE OF PARADYSE

And ye shal understonde that in thys citee the grasse ys greene and the maydenes are fayre.

OF THE HONEYE BADGERE

And in the lande of Ynde ther ys the Honeye Badger. And yt ys seyde to be somdeel bad-asse.

The Honeye Badger doth grabben at snakes, the which is grosse, and yt doth yiven chase to jackales. Of the many wondirs Ich have seene in my traveles, no thing is just as crazye as the Honeye Badger.

For Pliny the elder saith that the Honey Badger is the beaste yn the world that is moost wythout feare. The Honey Badger reketh nat an oystre concerning any matter.

For yn yts mouth the Honeye Badger will seyze a cobra and then it shal runne back-wardes. Yif a snake crepeth up ynto a tree, Honeye Badger careth nat. Honey Badgere reketh nat an oystre concerninge any matter; swich a beeste as the Honey Badger doth take that which it desireth, with no let or hindrance.

By Jesu, yt ys a wondir to wacchen the Honeye Badgere dig. Of its digginge no man may maken comparaison. The Honeye Badger, god woot, ys reallye prettye bad-asse. Thei have no regard for eny other animal whatsoevir.

Yt ys seyd by the men of that contree that yf a Honeye Badger cometh to a hous full of bees, the Honey Badger careth nat. The Honey Badger reketh nat an oystre concerninge any matter. The Honey Badger chargeth anon-right ynto the mansioun of the bees to eten of the litel wormes, the which aren ycleped larva. And thogh the bees do speare the Honeye Badger wyth an thousande stinges, the Honeye Badger reketh nat an oystre, for yt is hungrye and careth nat concerninge the stinges of the bees. No thing can make delay for the Honeye Badger whan hunger possesseth yt. O what a crazye horesonne thys Honey Badger ys!

At one tyme, Ich, John Mandeville, did see a mighti combat bitwene a Honeye Badgere and a Griffon. The mattir stood in much doubt. The Honeye Badgere was eting of a mous. Chargeth nowe the Griffon at the Honey Badger, as if it wolde seye “Get thee hence!” Yet HONEY BADGER CARETH NAT! Honey Bagdere smacketh the merde out of the Griffon. And nowe the Griffon scratcheth at the Honey Badgere wyth its clawes ful of fowele venym.

It passid anon that the Honey Badger did slaye the Griffon and make to ete of the bodye of the Griffon, for the Honey Badger knewe nat that it had been empoysoned. While the Honey Badger did ete of the Griffon, the venym did corrupt and clotere hys blood, so that he falleth a-doun in a swowne. Ich did bihold that wondrous animal falle as yf ded. And yet the Honey Badger did but laye stille a litel while, and then did ryse up agayne and ete of the Griffones bodye. Ywis, it was as yf yt had received no blowe nor no wounde. And then that Honey Badger had a grete feeste of the large bodye of the Griffon for many a daye. And Ich do see that the Honey Badger ys lyk unto the Phoenix of Arabye, that riseth out of yts asshes. Lo, I know nat what maner of signifiaunce ther ys for swich a merveil. Methinketh Henry Bolingbroke sholde putte the Honey Badger on hys coate of armes.

Speciale Secret Kalamazoo Game: The Bradshawe Shifte

By Seynt Viralemarketinge, a planne hath hit upon me. Graunt me pardon, gentils, for this nys nat a real poost, but rathir a sudden and urgent communicacioun to the grete scolers of Qalamazoo.

To alle the grete folke at Qalamazoo, to yow Ich do propose a game. It involveth a secret code phrase, sum maner of dauncing, and also peraventure snogginge.

I. Yif ye knowe and reden of thys poost of blog, ye maye walke up to eny person and saye the worde "Bradshawe Shifte."

II. Then, yif that person that ye have seyde that phrase unto knoweth also of thys poost, that person must doon a smal daunse at ones, no mattir where or whanne he or sche is askid. Be yt at a sessioun, or in the halle, or at a recepcioun, a daunse must be doon by the person who hath been "called out" by the wordes "Bradshawe Shifte." (Yif the person knowe nat of thys blog, then the askere loseth no thing but a litel tyme, for no maner scoler wolde evir be offendid by talke of the Bradshawe Shifte).

III. Yif the daunser doth performe the Bradshawe Shifte daunse successfullye upon beinge askede, the askere of the question must thenne yive unto the daunser eyther a drinke, a small amounte of moneye, or a kisse. The daunser hath the choys.

Maye ye be merrye at yower Bradeshawe-shiftinge!

(Pardon yif thys game ys nat verye elaborate. The first versioun did involve a beheadinge contest, but Ich koud nat werke out the logistics.)

O grete Scandale!

Sum maner of route of studentez hath stolen the draftes of myn litel Tales of Caunterburye and are y-poostinge the tales on twittre.

Interviewe wyth Margarethe Atte-Woode

O Goddess Synchronicitee, wyse indeed were the Polyce to make an album in thy honor, for lo! the werkinges of the world do oft contain the unusual and fortunate pairinges of eventes that are under thy dominacioun. For no sooner did Ich begin to thynke agayne on my tales of Caunterburye, than Ich did heare that the grete Auctor Madame Margarethe Atte-Woode hath a blog. Ich did emayle unto her -- and sche respondid!


Ich am alwey emaylinge grete auctores for to tryen to make interviewes (even thogh my first interviewe did nat go so wel). Ywis, rarely do thes grete auctores make response unto myn emayles. And rightly so, for thei aren busy folk and Ich nam nat but a symple man of offyces wyth litel writinges and a rathir shabby woolen hatte. But nat so was the case wyth Madame Atte-Woode. Wyth grete gentilesse, she did consent to be interviewede through emayle on my blog.

Ich was a litel confusid, for nevir have Ich actuallye interviewede a grete auctor, save for the tyme that Ich did talk to Franceys Petrark, and Ich totallye blewe it (“So, what ys thys ‘sonnet’ thynge, enyway?”). But Ich did trye my beste, and as my modir alwey seyde whanne Ich was yonge and Ich wolde lose at break-dauncinge competitions, yt ys the tryinge that counteth.


HIC INCIPIT INTERVISIO FACTA IN INTERNETTA INTER GALFRIDUM CHAUCER ET MARGARETAM APUDSILVAM

MARGARATHE ATTE-WOOD nedeth no introduccioun, for her bookes and writinges are avaylable yn all the scriptoriums and scriveneres shoppes yn the globe of the erthe. She hath creatid many examples of sum maner of writinge ycleped a “novel,” the which word soundeth faintyle Italyen to me. Among these newe “noveles” are The Hand-Maydes Tale, The Forblent Assassyn, Orikes & Crayk, and The Penelopiad. Her werkes of nonficcioun number among them Negotiatynge with The Dede and Payebacke: Debt and the Shadewe-Syde of Wele. Her moost fresshe and recent booke ys the Yeere of the Flood, the which returneth to the tales of Orikes & Crayk, and eek she hath both a blog and a feed on twittre.

GC: Oftymes my freendes do mocke me for the studye of oolde bookes, for that Ich am alwey poringe over Macrobius or the tales of Ovide or sum swich thynge. What thinke ye of oold bookes? What good have they yn this tikel worlde, the which chaungeth into newe and shinye thinges with each passinge daye?

MA: The oold storyes are the keyes to Dreame-land. Scratch a newe and shinye thing, and ye will fynde an oold and shinye thing lurking beneath.

GC: Ye maye wisshe to telle the rederes of thys blog of the magical beastes of the far lande of Canade. Ich have reade of swich thinges in the Travels of John Mandeville. Are the legendes trewelye to be believed?

MA: Yes, Mayster Chaucer, the tales ye heare are trewe (thogh I feare nat to be found in Mandeville). To wit, the Beaver, much hunted for his scent, which biteth off its owne Stones and casteth them behind yt to distract its pursuers — and in such maner often do ower owne Politicians behave. Yet other straunge beastes abound: the Ice-wormes, that heate themselves up to drill holes; and the Wendigos, that flyen hungrily and with sharp teeth and claws over the snowe with feet a-flayme, and devoure men, which some do name as Tax Collectors. And many more straunge and curious creatures abounde.

GC: What maner of writinge ys moost beneficial for the worlde?

MA: That ys beyond my power to saye. Manye bookes have done great harm, but those are of the political-tract kynde. Howevir, those works of invencion and poetrye that containe both laughter and instruccion will more prevail.

GC: What thinke ye ys the best conclusioun to ower longe warre wyth Fraunce?

MA: The best warre is no warre. Grete powers that pursue long and costlye warres waste their own substaunce, increase the substaunce of those from whom thei borrowe, and weaken their positions in relacion to their enemyes. But I predict that Engelonde will nat againe be invaded and conquered by Fraunce, as yt was by William. And a grete but muddye victory for Engelonde lieth in the future, at Agincourt, when - you may scarce credit it – longbowmen wythouten pants, all nakid to the breezes, will much affright the French nobilitee. Yet howevir much this maner of fightinge would plese one of yower humour, this victorie in the end (as it were) will profit Engelonde but litel.

GC: Yif ye koude yive sum advyce and conseil unto the Wyf of Bathe, what wolde ye telle her?

MA: Ich thinke she ys doinge quite wel on her own, and koud probablie teach me a trick or two! Natheless, schee might wisshe to do somethynge about the gap teeth. In future schee could get holp wyth thatte.

GC: Ich do notyce that yower verye well-renowned history of “Felices Clausulae” (or, Happye Endinges) hath no “G.” My wyf Philippa hath putte me up to thys: wolde it plese ye to considere writinge a shorte Happy Ending for G-eoffreye Chaucer?

MA: As the Happy Endinges always conclude wyth Death, my Happy Endinge for yow, deare Geoffreye, would include a long and well-loved Afterlife, both for yowerself and yower writinges — and that Ich believe Ich can assure yow. See, for instance, my litel tretys, Negotiatinge with the Dead, in which ye are quoted to much good effect!

GC: As a newe writer, Ich fynde it a thynge of muchel care and wo to putte wordes on to the payge. Mesemeth Ich have been at werke on my litel Tales of Caunterburye projecte for evir, and yet ther ys but litel texte for al of my biswinkful workinge. Have ye eny advyce for me and for othir beginninge makeres of ficcion and poesie?

MA: Ich kan predict that ye will fynde many publisshers in yeeres to come. Be pacient, and persevere! For the craft is so long to learn. But eventually, like yower Troilus, ye will look down in spirit on all who tryed to suppress yow, and laugh yower heade off.

GC: Nowe Ich am goynge to seye a fewe wordes, and yf it plese ye, ye maye responde wyth the firste thynge that cometh yn to yower hede whanne ye heare the worde that Ich saye. (Thogh thys did nat go too welle wyth Ms. Launcecrona in an earlier interviewe, peraventure yower grete wisdam and gentilesse shal make for bettir resultes.)

GC:The Black Deeth?

MA: 1) Inspiracioun for The VIIth Seal. 2) And for Boccaccio. As Alice Munro hath seyde, no mattir how awful a thynge may be, “It’s all material.” 3) That which raised wages for (the remayninge) labourers. Hey, there’s always a bryghte syde! 4)Goinge to the dentist in the 1940s. 5) And, as luck wolde have it, the Great Mortalytye -- as it was trewly spoken of in yower tyme -- is one of my litel hobbyes. See Payeback, Chapter V.

GC: Chivalrie?

MA: Code of honour seldom followed, except in literature, and by parfit gentil Knyghtes; OR rescuing chained-up maidens, with soft-porne illustracciouns; OR sayinge thank you when someone openeth the door for you.

GC: Alchemie?

MA: 1) My recipe for Calla Lilies, a swetemete of great delicacye. 2) What geekes did in late mediaeval tymes.

GC: Greate Authores?

MA: Chaucer.

[Rederes, Ich do assure yow, Ich did nat edit thys interviewe!]

GC: Hope?

MA: 1) That which is always at the bottom of ye Box o’Evils. 2)The sine qua non.

MA: Gracious thankys in advance, dear Magister Chaucer, for all the excellent pleasurable books yow are yet to endite. Live well and prosper!

GC: And graunt mercy to yow, deere Madame Atte-Wood, for sharinge yower thoughtes and wordes on thys litel blog.

Fab-Lib: The Gentil Compaignye of Three

Gentil rederes, as promised, Ich have a litel tale to yive unto yow, and it involveth sum audience participacioun.

For the feeste of the Newe Yeare, at the grete urginge of Virginia Wulfstan and the othirs of the Domesdaye groupe, Ich have made a New Yeares covenaunt: namely, that Ich shal retourne unto the writinge of my litel “Tales of Canterburye” projecte.

Many monethes agoon, Ich had been toolinge aweye at the Haberdassheres Tale, the which was nat really verye excitinge. So for to maken the retourne to thys project a sweete oon, Ich have put the Haberdassheres Tale yn the drawere, and have goon straight to the fabliaux. Ywis, yt is prettye awesome that but fewe have maad thes litel Frensshe tales of naughtinesse ynto the Englisshe tonge. And yet Ich feere that Ich have but litel graspe of the genre, so Ich have composid the followinge experiment, the which maye peraventure amuse thee, gentil redere.

For that the fabliau by yts kynde hath certayn certayntees, the which yive it an essence, Ich have essayed heere to produce a fabliau forme that kan be chaunged by the rederes and yet keepe some maner of yts fabliausity. Ye maye thynke swich an exercise queynte, but Ich saye yow that thys maner of thinge resembleth the “quodlibet” of a universitee debate, yn which the audience putteth yn the termes of the argument. And thus ye koude calle thys creatioun a fabliau quodlibetal, or eek a “fab-lib.”

Sothly, the maner of proceedinge may be explainid withouten much trouble. Ich have belowe y-writ the outlyne of a fabliau, the which containeth many blanke spaces. Bifor the fabliau, Ich have listed the maner of wordes that the tale ytself doth lacke. Ye, rederes, shal fille yn the wordes from yower corage or fantayse bifor ye see the tale ytself. Thanne, whan ye rede of the tale ye maye putte yn the wordes ye have chosen, and ye schall fynde a moost plesaunt and different fab-lib eech and every tyme.

Yif it plese yow, ye maye poost the most deliteful passages from yower owene fab-libbes yn the commentes.

Heere followeth the Fab-Lib of Galfridus Chaucer, Clerk of the Kinges Workes, Concerning the Compaignye of III:

Lyste of woordes:

1. universitee towne

2. adjectif

3. emotional qualitee resultinge from contente

4. craftsperson

5. adjectif denotinge extremitie

6. liquor

7. anothir maner of liquor

8. yet anothir kynde of liquor, the which hath a greene colour

9. large animal

10. type of buildinge

11. animal that ys nakid

12. Exclamation relatinge to a seynt associated wyth nakednesse

13. hair metal star

14. substaunce founde neare ants

16. cookinge ingredient

17. anothir cookinge ingredient

18. fablid ruler yn the East.

19. adjectif

20. unit used to measure sleepe

21. adjectif denoting wrath

22. savory herb

23. wommanes name

24. part of bodye

25. racy but acceptable worde for anatomicale feature oonlie possessid by men

26. adjectif meaninge intelligent

27. domesticated byrde

28. fruyte

29. item of furniture

30. adjectif generallie considerede unfortunate whanne applyed yn a stereotypical fashion to a female, regrettable thogh swich generalisaciouns maye be they seeme inherent to the fabliau forme

31. worde usid to designate a wonder

32. type of pastrye, plural

33. smalle item of ornamentacioun

33. place wher clerkes doon bisynesse

34. worde designatinge a dilemma

35. burrowing animal

36. type of rock

37. predatory mammal

38. livestock enclosure

39. worde for a man of loose morales

40. venue for naughti bisynesse

41. a Celtic Otherworld

42. Late Antique Writer

I

Whilom did dwelle yn [universitee towne] a riche makere of ropes, who did rente the toppe floore of hys hous to three [adjectif] yonge maydes.

Many a daye did the three yonge maydes dwelle yn that palce, wyth muchel [emotionale qualitee resultinge from contente], until oon of hem did marrye a good man, a wright who was a [craftsperson]. The two who did nat marrye were yclepede Janette du Boys and Christine de Neyge, and they were filled wyth sorwe for they needed to fynde a newe roommate.

It happed upon a weekende that Janette and Christine did throwe their oold friende an hekke of an engagement partye. So [adjectif denotinge extremitie] was that partye, and so deepe did the two joly maydes drinke of [liquor] and [anothir kynde of liquor] and [yet anothir kynde of liquor, the which hath a greene colour] that Janette and Christine did wake wyth a hangovir that did pounde yn their heades lyk unto a [large animal] on the top of a [type of buildinge]. And in the morweninge, they did comfort themselves and rubbe their heades. And shortly when Janette went unto the privy, she cryede out for ther was a man yn the batthe-tubbe, who was as nakid as an [animal that ys nakid].

“[Exclamation relatinge to a seynt associated wyth nakednesse], wherefore ys yt that a manne ys yn my bathtubbe?” seyde Janette.

“Feere nat, goode ladye,” seyde the man, “For Ich am a symple clerk, that has come to thys place for to lerne art, and Ich am ycleped Jankyn the Tripper. And Ich am y-layd yn thys tubbe for Ich did crasshe the weddinge partye laste nyght, and did drynke moore than [hair metal star], and so Ich do fynde myself yn thys tubbe.”

II

Withoute delaye, Janette did clothe Jankyn for to scape fro syne. And she wrappid hym in a gowne of hers that was close by, for she had no othir clothes to spare.

Janykn and Janette came out of the privy, and ther was Christine cookinge a breakfaste. But yet the breakfaste nas nat good, for she had made the egges taste lyk unto [substaunce founde neare ants]. And Jankyn seyde, “Let us maken vertu of necessitee. Ich knowe wel the crafte of cookery fro whan Ich did studye in Orleans. If ye fetche for me [cookinge ingredient] and [anothir cookinge ingredient], Ich shalle make yow a breakfaste that shall surpass those of [fablid ruler yn the East.]”

Nowe leve we the two maydes and oon clerke, and lat us see what did hap yn the chambres of the ropere, the which did lyve directlie downstayres. Lo, the oold ropere and hys [adjectif] wyf were soore troublid, for the partye of the night bifor had kepte them from sleepinge even oon [unit used to measure sleepe].

“Telle off thos maydes, husbounde, or thou art no trewe man,” seyde the roperes wyf. But the ropere toold hys wyf that he was soore tyred from the makinge of roopes, and he seyde he had no relisshe for to cause trouble to yonge maydes.

“Ywis, thou hast no relish to causen eny maner trouble for maydes yonge nor eek wyves slightlye oolder, thou shrimpe,” seyde the roperes wyf, and so she wente up the stayres herself and was verye [adjectif denoting wrath], and she wolde telle the maydes to nevir have swich a partye again.

So it fel thus that the roperes wyf came up the stayres and wythoute knockinge did come ynto the chambre, and bihold! She sawe Jankyn yn the gowne of a woman and he did clippe a sprig of [savory herb] from the plante nexte to the couche. And Janette did get muchel worryed.

And the roperes wyf cryede out: “Wherefore hastow a manne yn thy chambres, harlot? And why hastow clothed hym yn a florale gowne?”

“Nay, thys nys no man,” seyde Janette, “Thys ys ower newe prospectif room-mate, [womannes name].”

“Thou liest in thy [part of bodye],” seyde the oold roperes wyf, “For Ich knowe woman from man, and a woman hath no [racy but acceptable worde for anatomicale feature oonlie possessid by men].”

“Ye are mistaken, Goodwyfe Ropere,” seyde Janette, who was verye [adjectif meaninge intelligent], and she led hym and the roperes wyf yn to a derke syde-chambre where there was a [domesticated byrde] and a [fruyte]. In the derknesse, Janette arrangid thes yn clever wyse and then made the roperes wyf touch a [item of furniture]. And the roperes wyf seyde, “Ay, I see nowe she ys a woman!” and she took herself down-stayres to hir housbond.

III

Yet as it happed, Christine and Janette in their grete hungovernesse had forgotten that a mayde was cominge to visit to see yf she wolde lodge with them as their newe roommate. And thus a mayde who was [adjectif generallie considerede unfortunate whanne applyed yn a stereotypical fashion to a female, regrettable thogh swich generalisaciouns maye be they seeme inherent to the fabliau forme] came up the stayres. And thys mayde wore, so it happed, a gowne much lyk unto the gowne that the two maydes had yiven unto Jankyn the Tripper.

And the roperes wyf toold the ropere of the mayde who lookid so muchel lyk unto a man, and the ropere seyde “Ich shal see thys [worde usid to designate a wonder], for Ich feere that ye have been tricked, my wyf, and they keepe sum maner of manne up there and do synne wyth hym.”

The ropere went up-stayres, and anon it happed that yn the chambre the ropere sawe the newe mayde who wolde be a roommate. And he seyde, “Thogh my wyf saye thou be a woman, Ich know that thou hast made some jape or trickerie upon her, and Ich shalle prove that thou be a man.”

The ropere grabbed at the maydes bosom through her gowne, and he sayde, “Biholde, these [type of pastrye, plural] are but fals.” Yet they were nat!

The mayde did shoute and did stikke her [smalle item of ornamentacioun] in hys nose, and he was soore shamed and did go down-stayres to hys wyf, repentinge hys rudenesse and sayinge that ther was no man upstayres. And the mayde departid, for she koud fynde a bettir rentale elswhere.

IV

Nowe passe we to Jankyn and Christine and Janette, who did gadir rounde the boord for to ete of the meale that Jankyn had cookid. Yt was the moost deintevous and savorie foode that evir Christine and Janette had tasted.

Then Janette bethought her sotilly and seyde, “We two kan nat cooke so wel, and swich a cook wolde make a fyne roommate.”

Jankyn did smyle and seye, “That wel me liketh. For Ich have come to thys towne but yisterday and have no place to staye, save for the stable of the taverne at the signe of the Beagle Roiale. Thys is a fyne rental and verye close to [place wher clerkes doon bisynesse].”

Yet Christine seyde, “But welawey, the oold ropere wol nat suffer us to have a man lyve among us. Thys is a [worde designatinge a dilemma, Ich suggest kankedort by cause yt ys a right good word]!”

Whiles the three so talkid, the ropere and hys wyf did have muchel wrangling among themselves, for the roperes wyf wolde have hym come up to apologize for his acciouns, and he wolde nat. And the roperes wyf seyde that the ropere was naught but a [burrowing animal] and a [type of rock], and she pulled hym up the stayres.

Than fel it thus that the ropere and hys wyf breste open the doore and ther founde the two maydes and the oon man etinge togedir.

A knife wyth gleminge blade the ropere did pulle right faste from hys boote, and he menacid the yonge clerke.

“Cry out harrow! Ther ys a [predatory mammal] in the [livestock enclosure]. By my soule, Ich nam no [worde for a man of loose morales] nor wil I kepe no [venue for naughti bisynesse]! Thou hast synned yn my house and thou shalt paye wyth thy lyf!”

Janette and Chrstine cryed out wyth feere, and Jankyn did rayse hys armes yn front of hys face for to warden hym from the knyves edge.

It happed that the Kyng and Queene of [a Celtic Otherworld] were walkinge ther yn the apartment, unseene by the mortal folke. For the Queene had grete delite to look upon rope-makinge and twyne and othir manner of fibrous construccioun, and the Kynge did oblige her by cause a long tyme agoon he had hir ravysshed down ynto hys underworld, as [Late Antique Writer] doth maken mencioun. It happed that they walked in on thys contencioun invisibli and did laughen at it.

“Biholde, my lady,” seyde the Kyng, “Thys man hath been caught in a tricky situacioun and shal be soore beaten. But Ich shal yive unto oon of thes maydes the yifte of speche so wys and resonable that the oold ropere shal make hys peace, and shal permit the clerk to lyven wyth the maydes.”

“Do ye that, my good lord,” seyde the Queene, “but forsooth, unusual gender-mixede livinge arrangements sholde nat come wythout heighjinkes. And thus Ich shal put a spelle on thes three, that always they shall be gettinge ynto unusual and likerous predicamentz. And lo, thogh ech tyme they koud solve eny problem by simplye telling the othirs of sum smalle secret or plan, they never shall do so until the verye ende, when thinges have bicom completelye messed up.”

And so it happed that through the sorcerie of the Kyng, Christine did seye that Jakke the clerk was a lovir of men al oon, and she swore that he had no likynge for women. By cause of the Kinges powere and the foolishnesse of the ropere, the ropere did believen her.

So ende we our mery tale, and so it happed that thes three did lyve togedir for many a yeere, and had many an aventure, as the Queene had seyde they wolde. And thes three did calle themselves a joly compaignye and they made a mirtheful virelaye that thei songe togedir. The note, I trowe, ymaked was in Fraunce, the wordes were swiche as ye may here fynde:

Come thee and clappe vpon ower gate

Longtyme have we wayted to see thee anewe,

Heere hires and hys and hires the kissinge ys,

For three, god woot, ys compaignye trewe.

Come thee and dauncen upon ower flete,

Trippe thee and tredde a paas al newe,

For there ys daliaunce heere that nedeth thy chere,

For three, sans doute, ys compaignye trewe.