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dissertation entitled

"1 W01 Nat Serve ..."
Authority and Submission In Late
Medieval English Literature

presented by

Susan Christina De Long Charnley

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“I WOL NAT SERVE . .
AUTHORITY AND SUBMISSION
IN LATE MEDIEVAL ENGLISH LITERATURE
By

Susan Christina De Long Charnley

A DISSERTATION
Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulﬁllment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Department of English

1996

ABSTRACT

“I WOL NAT SERVE . . .”
AUTHORITY AND SUBMISSION
IN LATE MEDIEVAL ENGLISH LITERATURE

By

Susan Christina De Long Charnley

The tightness of relations is a major theme in late medieval literature. The criteria
for tightness include the identity of wills, the doctrine of submission, and the imitatio Dei.
The identity of wills refers to the sharing of goals and desires shared by two persons in a
hierarchical relationship (king and subject, master and servant, husband and wife, et
cetera). The doctrine of submission establishes obedience as a pre-requisite for authority.
The imitatio Dei urges likeness to Christ as the foundation for rightness. These three
criteria emerged from the junctures of feudal, commercial and Christian ideologies. The
historical events that reveal these junctures include the ceremonies that recognize and
name medieval relations, the plague, taxation policies, and legislation such as the statute of
laborers and the statute of mortmain. In literature, the works most revealing of late
medieval ideas about relation include those by Geoﬂi’ey Chaucer, John Gower, Julian of
Norwich, the Pearl-poet, Guillaume de Deguileville, and William Langland. In both kinds
of evidence, historical and literary, we can see a nexus of ideological discourses that was
recognized in late medieval England as the right relation. Further, such discourses
anticipate certain ideas about relation in modern thought.

COPYrisht by
SuNMICHuﬁnhulCmmnﬂey

1996

Dedicated to Arthur Richard De Long with love and respect.
Illegitimus non carborundran!

iv

ACKNOWLEDGEll/IENTS

I wish to express my sincere appreciation for the assistance given to me by Dr. John

Alford, Dr. Lister Matheson, Dr. Philip McGuire and Dr. William Whallon.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION ......................... ' ............... 1
CHAPTER I: CHAUCER AND GOWER ...................... 18
CHAPTER II: JULIAN OF NORWICH AND THE PEARL-POET ....... 51
CHAPTER III: DEGUILEVILLE AND LANGLAND ............... 94
CHAPTER IV: SUMMARY ................................ 136
BIBLIOGRAPHY ...................................... 152

INTRODUCTION

“1 wol nat serve Venus ne Cupide

Forsothe, as yit, by no manere weye.”
So declares the formel eagle in rejecting all three of her avian suitors in Chaucer’s
Parliament of F owles (652).l Her reﬁrsal is a striking conclusion to the parliament. The
question under consideration is not whether she should take a mate—all the assembled
birds assume that she will act “according to nature”—but whom she should choose. Her
reﬁrsal is all the more surprising since Nature herself has just indicated her own
preference: “If I were Resoun, certes, thanne wolde I / Conseyle yow the ryal tersel take”
(632-33). None of the assembly is prepared for the formel’s decision. In refusing to serve
Love, albeit “with dredful vois,” the formel is rejecting not only the counsel of her
superiors but also the traditional order of things. That order, as the language of the poem

makes clear, is conceived largely in feudal terms.2

 

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2 Whmfamﬁﬁebﬁtmdnlmeged‘fuhy-odnmmibe Mrloyaltyto
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men" (479).

2
Among modern critics of the poem, J. A. W. Bennett is exceptional in judging the
formel’s behavior against “the realities of feudal life,” which rarely permitted such

expressions of “instinctive femininity”:

[H]ere at the end of the vision modesty becomes dignity—as if in conscious
contrast to the alluring half-naked Venus at the beginning. The point is
perhaps less quickly taken in the twentieth century than in the fourteenth,
when the interest of the speech would lie, not so much in the request for a
respite as in the claim to a “choys al fre”: the realities of feudal life—or for
that matter of aristocratic life in any century before the present, allowed
little such freedom ........ Yet Chaucer is here championing it, or at
least admitting the possibility of it, even when the maiden is of such a rank
that her betrothal is the whole commonwealth's concern. In literature,
admittedly, such a situation was not new: it was the very condition that
provided the element of suspense in many a demande d 'arnour. (Bennett

177)

Bennett's view has not received the attention it deserves. Few scholars actually ponder
the implications of the formel’s refusal within the world of the poem or that of its late-
medieval audience. Certainly if we read the Parlimnent of F owles without thought of its
context or setting, as if it were a peculiar sort of twentieth-century work, none of us
would ﬁnd the formel’s choice at all remarkable. Since freedom of choice is a mandate of
modern democratic ideology, why shouldn't the formel refuse to serve? But the

Parliament of F owles is not a modern poem, and the formel’s world (in its most extended

3
sense) can never be one of modern democracy. The formel's words must raise questions
for modern readers about the nature of service in late medieval England. What contexts
existed for statements of service, non-service, lordship, and non-lordship? Is it possible
for twentieth-century readers to ﬁrlly appreciate the signiﬁcance of a declaration such as
the formel’s “I wol nat serve”?

One context for understanding the signiﬁcance of the formel’s words, a context
ﬁequently overlooked, is philosophical tradition. What binds all issues of service or non-
service in the Middle Ages is the concept itself of relation. Virtually all medieval
discussions of this concept go back to Aristotle. In his Categories, Aristotle explains that
“lord” and “servant” are correlative terms: “All relatives are spoken of in relation to
correlatives that reciprocate. For example, the slave is called slave of a master and the

master is called master of a slave . . .” (18). He elaborates as follows:

Again, if that in relation to which a thing is spoken of is properly given,
then, when all the other things that are accidental are stripped off and that
alone is left to which it was properly given as related, it will always be
spoken of in relation to that. For example, if a slave be spoken of in
relation to a master, then, when everything accidental to a master is
stripped oﬁ‘—like being a biped, capable of knowledge, a man—and there
is left only its being a master, a slave will always be spoken of in relation to
that. For a slave is called slave of a master. On the other hand, if that in
relation to which a thing is spoken of is not properly given, then, when the

other things are stripped off and that alone is left to which it was given as

4

related, it will not be spoken of in relation to that. Suppose a slave is given
asofaman. . . and strip oﬁ‘frommanhisbeingamaster, aslavewillno
longer be spoken of in relation to a man, for if there is no master there is no

slave either. (Categories 20)

Aristotle’s analysis of the master-slave relation was extended by later thinkers to
reciprocal relations of every sort—lord and servant, king and subject, husband and wife.
The category of relation became an implicit part of virtually all medieval inquiries into the
nature of social and political authority.

Boethius’ ﬁrrther analysis of the concept in the Consolation of Philosophy proved
to be especially inﬂuential in shaping medieval deﬁnitions of power. Lady Philosophy
asks: “Do you think of a man as powerful when you see him lacking something which he
cannot achieve? A man who goes about with a bodyguard because he is more aﬁ’aid than
the subjects he terrorizes and whose claim to power depends on the will of those who
serve him?” (Watts 87-88). For Boetlrius the category of relation must be qualiﬁed by
how the reciprocal elements operate. The tyrant certainly appears to be in authority, yet
Lady Philosophy’s question implies that he is actually among the least powerﬁrl of men.
Boethius’ division of “relation” into two aspects—formal and substantive—made a
profound impression on medieval writers. Again and again, as we shall see, these writers
make a distinction between those who are truly lords (or servants) and those who are
“lords” or “servants” in name only.

Another aspect of Boethius’ analysis that appears repeatedly in medieval

discussions of power and authority is his emphasis on the will. “Do you think of a man as

S
powerful,” Lady Philosophy had asked, “. . . whose claim to power depends on the will of
those who serve him ” For John of Salisbury, writing in the twelfth century, the proper

end of the social hierarchy could be realized only by an “identity of wills.”

The health of the whole republic will only be secure and splendid if the
superior members devote themselves to the inferiors and if the inferiors
respond likewise to the legal rights of their superiors, so that each
individual may be likened to a part of the others reciprocally and each
believes what is to his own advantage to be determined by that which he

recognizes to be most useful for others. (Policraticus 126)

John of Salisbury’s model for this ideal republic is the corporate body of the church (as
described in I Corinthians 12: 12, the locus classicus),3 and readers should not be
surprised that “love” emerges as a vital political principle. The “identity of wills,” John of
Salisbury explains, “is an indication of love.” Where personal and social structures of
relation are marked by such love, the agents are truly what their names deﬁne. Form and
substance are in harmony.

John of Salisbury’s allusion to Corinthians implies an analogy between the
secular and spiritual realms, the former actually validated by the latter. Indeed, nowhere is

the criterion of “identity of wills” more central than in discussions of man’s subordination

 

3 “Forjueteeﬂrobodyieonoandhesrmnyrrunbax,eﬂthonnnbasofﬂrebody,thmrgrmeny,moncbody,aohiswidrmiﬂ”GCa.

12: 12, Douay-Wins).

6
to God. As Guillaume de Deguileville points out, however, there is a fundamental

diﬂ’erence between spiritual and secular lordship:

But whan man was foormed panne was God cleped Lord, in tokne bat
whan he hadde seruauntes he was lord and lordshipinge. Whan he hadde
seruauntes banne he was Lord, and yit he was neuere be grettere. But be
lordes of his cuntre ben not swich, as me thinketh, for be mo seruauntes bei
haue so nriche bei make hem be grettere: here seruauntes and here meyne
yiuen hem lordshipe. Lordship was knyt in subgis and engendred, and if he

subgis ne were, lordshipes shulden perishen. (723-731)

Guillaume's analysis is clearly indebted to the Categories; and, as we shall see, he
explicitly acknowledges the importance of Aristotle’s notion of relation or, as he refers to
it in the logical terminology of the times, the predicamentwn ad aliquid.

What motivated John of Salisbury, Guillaume de Deguileville, and other medieval
writers to apply the predicamentum ad aliquid to a wide range of actual structures of
subordination was, in part, the search for what might be called “the right relation.” In
poetic form this search culminates in the late fourteenth-century allegorical masterpiece
known as Piers Plowman. The whole of the poem could be summarized as a quest for “the
right relation,” but the theme is perfectly distilled in Conscience's speech before the King
(passus 3 of the C version):

‘Relacoun rect,’ quod Consience, ‘is record of treuthe,

Quia ante late rei recordatiuum est.

7
Folowynge and fyndynge out be fundement of a strenghe,
And styﬂiche stande forth to strenghe be ﬁrndement

In kynde and in case and in be cours of nombre.

As a leel laborer byleueth bat his maister

In his pay and in his pite and in his puyr treuthe

To pay hym yf he parforrne and haue pite yf he faileth
And take hym for his trauaile al bat treuthe wolde;

So of holy herte cometh hope, and hardy relacoun

Seketh and seweth his sustantif sauacioun,

That is god the ground of al, a graciouse antecedent.

And man is relatif rect yf he be right trewe. (C.HI.343-354)

The images employed by Conscience—images of master, servant, pay, travail, searching,
and sowing—are the images that the works to be examined here use repeatedly to
illustrate the right relation. In particular the parables found in Julian of Norwich’s Book of
Shewings and Pearl are rife with such imagery. Further, the essential deﬁnition that
ﬁ'arnes Langland’s passage is that the right relation is “truth” in its medieval sense—that is
mutual fealty, loyalty, and faithfulness in action and word.

With Langland the integration of “relation” as a logical category and the relations
of men in actual society is achieved most fully. Langland’s poem examines with
uncommon thoroughness the relations—right and un-right—of God, King and subjects to

each other and to various principles such as law, justice, reason, and faith. As John Alford

explains,

8
The validity of truth [or right relation] as a standard of social conduct
derives ﬁom the fact that it is the principle upon which heavenly order itself
rests. God, in the aspect of a great feudal lord, commanded truth of his
angels. One participates in this order through obedience to God’s vicars on
earth, that is, the king and his justices, the church, parents, husband—in
short, any authority that does not require one to act against the divine

commandments. (“Design” 36)

The pressure for this deﬁnition of “the right relation” or this search for its synonym “truth”
came ﬁom the poet’s experience of its diminishing importance in society. Citing a number
of medieval works, Alford notes, “Again and again writers of the period extol truth as the
political virtue par excellence. And again and again they lament its decline, citing as the
two main causes ‘meed’ (money, the acquisitive instinct) and ‘will’ (willfulness,
‘singularity,’ personal ambition). . .” (“Design” 33). Late medieval English literature is
replete with complaints about the undermining of the traditional feudal value of “truth” by
more commercial values, by the rise of a wage or proﬁt economy, capitalism, call it what
you will. Historians may disagree on the terms, or on the degree of the change—but there
can be no doubt that in Langland’s time, in the late fourteenth century, the values of a
money economy had begun to displace those of the older feudal economy; and the writers
of that time, not fully comprehending what was happening, reacted with alarm.

The displacement of the feudal economy by a money economy, along with other
associated changes, occurred over a number of centuries. However, a brief comparison of

feudal and late medieval economic practices may help to explain one source of medieval

9
alarms. According to Anna Baldwin, the feudal system “was characterized by stability,
control, and a low emphasis on monetary relations. The lord gave the use of land whether
a barony or a few half-acre strips; his ‘man’ responded with customary services . . . . Each
side was bound in mutual contract . . .” (“I-Iistorical” 69). Emphasis on monetary relations
was so low that, as Lester Little explains, “payments were in fact more likely to be made
in goods and services” (16). Little also stresses the importance of the gift in the feudal
economy, labeling it a “giﬁ economy.” The value, in feudal times, set on services or
goods, such as protection, salvation, and military services or food, specie, and cloth was
qualitative and personal in an economy characterized by gift-giving. “The keystone of
feudal government was the personal agreement between lord and vassal . . .” (Little 29
[italics mine]). In other words, “prestige, power, honor and wealth”—all the vestiges of
authority—were perceived in terms of the ability to give, and the purpose of acquisition in
a gift economy was to be able to give bigger and better gifts than the other man (Little 4).
Consequently displays of wealth became important. How could anyone know that a lord
was capable of giving to his companions, if they could not see the wealth the lord
possessed? How could others recognize the esteem in which a vassal or servant was held,
if they could not literally see the evidence of his wealth?

By comparison, as the feudal system lost ground so did the importance of mutual
exchanges in the form of gifts of property and service or products. Payments of money or
specie for goods, services and property eliminated the need for an “identity of wills”
beyond the terms of the contract, and acquisition became an end in itself. This
development was protested repeatedly in late medieval English literature. Gower is

Perhaps most eloquent in condemning the acquisitiveness of both lords and servants. “The

l 0
man who renders you service ought to be your servant, and not the worthless fellow who
is eager for gold . . . . A noble king ought not to be the slave of avarice, a king’s character
ought to be liberal in everything” (Gower 23 8, 239). Clearly the feudal tradition of the
gift given in mutual respect was the literary standard for rightness in economic relations.

The feudal exchange of gifts took place at all levels of master and servant relations.
Unquantiﬁed items, when passed from servant to master, represented the servant's
gratitude to and affection for his lord. When passed from master to servant, such items
represented the lord's valuation of his servant as a representative part of the lord. The
lord's worship—his dignity—was commensurate with his ability to give worthy gifts and
to care for his servants. As long as the giving of gifts and attendant worship was
reciprocal, the relation was considered to be right. As trade and safe travel increased, the
gift became less representative of the gratitude, aﬂ’ection, and worship between master and
man and more representative of the extent, exact nature, and quantity of items, services
and protection exchanged between master and man. Eventually, the gift became little
more than a metaphor for payment. As the gift came to represent less and less the
“worship” of giver and receiver, the eﬂ‘ective will—what we today might term power—of
the servant in the master and servant relation also decreased.

We see the interplay and complexity of the gift and the identity of wills illustrated
most clearly in The Clerk ’s Tale. In that tale, Walter gives Griselda a variety of gifts:
clothing—a standard gift of provision from lord to servant; status—again a standard giﬁ
ﬁom lord to vassal and husband to wife; authority—not a standard gift from lord to
servant but common enough and usually given to ﬁrrther the goals of the lord; and

children—in the Middle Ages, regardless of the reality of the situation, children were

ll
ﬁequently referred to as a gilt from husband to wife. In exchange for these gifts, Griselda
gives her promise repeatedly that her will is identical to Walter’ s—“But as ye wol
youreself, right so wol I” (Clerk ’s Tale 361). The exchange is far from equal in the
modem sense, but it is reciprocal. When Walter begins to doubt Griselda he begins to
withdraw his gifts. Eventually everything Walter gave to Griselda is taken away. Yet
Griselda holds ﬁrm to her promise. Griselda, the metaphorical servant, never withdraws
ﬁ'om the identity of wills or the acts of service which represent that identity. Walter, on
the other hand, withdraws completely and even abuses the lordly authority given to him by
Griselda’s compliance with his will.

By the end of the tale it is obvious to the clerk and his listeners, to anyone who
held with the philosophical tradition that supported the doctrine of submission, that
Griselda is the substantive authority of the story, whereas Walter represents merely the
form of authority. The clerk uses Griselda’s actions, her service to Walter, to illustrate her
part in the feudal relation of lord and servant. Walter’s part in that same relation is vested
in the gifts/he gives to Griselda. Had Walter not taken back his gifts, the relation would
have been a classic example of the Aristotelian lord and servant relation. But Walter does
withdraw his gifts and by that withdrawal calls into question the rightness of his authority
and his relation to his subject, Griselda. Discussion of that rightness must be deferred to
another chapter. What is pertinent here is that the question of “payment” never arises.
Griselda does not receive nor expect a wage for her services. The entire relationship
between Walter and Griselda is represented not in terms of a monetary economic

exchange but in terms of a feudal economic exchange.

1 2

Yet feudal economic practices were not the only signiﬁers of relations. Relations
were also reﬂected in reciprocal exchanges of oaths and promises. As Marc Bloch noted
long ago, “To be the ‘man’ of another man: in the vocabulary of feudalism, no
combination of words was more widely used or more comprehensive in meaning. In both
the Romance and the Germanic tongues it was used to express personal dependence per se
and applied to persons of all social classes regardless of the precise legal nature of the
bond” (145). A primary example of the promises exchanged between master and man was

the oath of fealty.

And when a ﬂea tenant shall swear fealty to his lord, let him place his right
hand on the book and speak thus: “Hear thou this, my lord, that I will be
faithful and loyal to you and will keep my pledges to you for the lands
which I claim to hold of you, and that I will loyally perform for you the

services speciﬁed, so help me God and the saints.” (Ogg 218)

Upon receiving a man's oath of fealty the lord would invest the man with lands, position,
or revenues or some combination of these. A corresponding oath from the lord to the
newly sworn vassal, while not always required, rrright take a form similar to the following:
“‘And I receive you and take you as my man, and give you this kiss as a sign of faith . . .”’
(Ogg 219). The exchange of oaths enacted the notion expressed by John of Salisbury’s
identity of wills in which “each [participant] behaves what is to his own advantage to be
determined by that which he recognizes to be most useful to others” (Policraticus 126).
As with gift-giving, the exchange of oaths became more and more a pro forma exercise

used to establish the extent of a man’s authority over a particular geographic area or

l 3
estatHsually following the death of the previous authority—rather than signifying the
purposeﬁrl linking of two wills, those of master and man.

Literary works often dramatized the identity of wills, or the lack thereof, by the
exchange of oaths and promises. Gower frequently laments unfulﬁlled promises and oaths
empty of meaning: “Wickedness [the failure to keep faith with knightly oaths] on the part
of the knightly estate harms and oﬁ‘ends all other classes of society by its unseemliness”
(Gower 434). Certainly the dispute over promises exchanged between master and servant
in the Pearl-poet’s version of the parable of the vineyard represents a signiﬁcant lack of
identity in the wills of the two parties concerned. Understanding the feudal context of
these literary oaths and promises is vitally important, especially in view of the
philosophical tradition—stemming ﬁom Boethius—that distinguishes between the form
and substance of right relations. That distinction may explain why literary representations
of hierarchical relations often seem at odds with what we know about actual relations
between lords and servants in the later Middle Ages.

The literature illustrates a doctrine of behavior that paradoxically dictated
submission as a pre-requisite for authority. That doctrine had its basis in the divine
example of Jesus, who, by an act of will, became subject to the ﬂesh and its trials. To be
like Christ was one of the most frequent exhortations to the faithful in the Middle Ages.
One of the principal charges against the clergy was that they claimed to be like Christ but
behaved in very un-Christlike ways. Gower and Langland are especially vocal on this
point. They produce virtual catalogues of the ways in which the clergy fail to imitate
Christ. For those who fail to conform substantively to the example of Christ, there can be

no right relation. This imitatio Dei or likeness to God was the literal and behavioral

14

avowal of the doctrine of submission illustrated in late medieval literature. Christ’s willing
submission is the action that when imitated by all men conﬁrms their relations as right.

The imitatio Dei, the identity of wills, gift-giving, and the exchange of promises—
all were supported by a feudal context. However, these ideals were diﬁcult, if not
impossible, to maintain as the feudal system came into conﬂict with more modern, values
and economic systems. As Little puts it, “The spread of monetary transactions, previously
very restricted, into most types of relationship and most areas of activity brought distress
to individuals and institutions alike” (19). The tension caused by the systemic changes in
the late Middle Ages can be observed in the response of the survivors of the Black Plague.

Peasants, Baldwin notes,

began to leave their manors legally or illegally and to roam the country in
search of higher wages. The Statutes of Labourers, enacted between 1349
(the year following the ﬁrst devastating outbreak of plague) and the end of
the century, attempted to control wages and prices, to enforce the keeping
of contracts, and to make the idle work . . . . They attempted, in short, to
transfer the feudal principles of ‘truth’ into a wage-economy, but they

achieved only partial success. (“I-Iistorical” 70-71)

Clearly the philosophical tradition that had guided human relations was more and more at
variance with social reality, and painful recognition of this fact is observable in the works
of those late medieval poets who wrote in search of right relations.

Six poets and their search for right relations are examined in the following

chapters. Piers Plowman (the C version) elaborates at some length on the right relation.

15

Gower’s Vox Clwnantis was greatly inﬂuenced by the peasants’ revolt of 1381.
Chaucer’s Clerk’s Tale gives a careful representation of late medieval social structures and
demonstrates the discourse of the right relation between a lord and a servant who become
husband and wife. Pearl focuses on the right relation between God and man, as does
Julian of Norwich’s parable of the lord and servant. The Middle English prose translation
of Deguileville’s Ihe Pilgrimage of the Lyfe of the Manhode provides an explicit
treatment of Aristotle’s category of relation.4 Together these works represent a variety of
the games and styles available in late medieval English literature: dream-vision,
confession, biography, debate poem, courtly love literature, estates satire, quest poem, and
homily. Stylistically these works represent prose and verse, Latin and vernacular, court
poetry and the more popular works of the alliterative revival. Comparison of these works
provides an excellent opportunity to examine the philosophical tradition of the right
relation and to answer some of the questions raised by the formel eagle’s refusal to serve.

For purposes of comparison, Chaucer and Gower make a natural pairing as ﬁiends
and court poets. Signiﬁcantly, both comment on the social hierarchy of the later Middle
Ages. The work of these two authors shows signiﬁcant differences in their quest for the
right relation. The Clerk ’s Tale takes an approach that dramatizes the doctrine of
submission in the characters of Griselda and Walter. The philosophical issues of concern

in the right relation are illustrated in an intensely personal relation between two

 

4 DoguilevillewrotehisAnglo-Normanpoamarwnd 1330-1331. TheMiddleI-Lnglishpmecu'arrslationisuodesaeomcctextbocerm

ofitsshnilerityofhnguegoendhspmrhctioninthclatcfmuloaﬂhcaﬂny. Lydgato’spoaicadarxationistoolatotobcmdymeﬁtlfor .
m. l‘ .

16
individuals, the relation of marriage. The marriage between Griselda and Walter, like the
choice of the fennel, is a marriage that has signiﬁcant public ramiﬁcations in its contexts.
Thus the marriage of marquis and peasant undergoes signiﬁcant and ambiguous public
scrutiny. Gower’s Vox Clanrantis, on the other hand, deals with the problem of right
relation in less personal but no less public relations. Gower approaches the right relation
by scrutinizing the problems in relations between the three estates—peasarrts, clerics, and
knights. In contrast to Chaucer’s version of the Griselda story, a courtly love tale told in
the vemacular and a single piece extracted ﬁ'om the over-arching discussion of various
relations that occurs in the Canterbury Tales, the Vox Clamantis is a work of extended
length, written in Latin. The issue of the right relation is so intricate a part of the Vox
Clamantis that extraction of any single section is nearly impossible. Interestingly enough
both works arrive at similar conclusions about the right relation. Both point clearly to the
imitatio Dei, the spiritual right relation, as the source for secular right relations.

Julian of Norwich’s parable and Pearl both focus more directly on the spiritual
right relation between God and man. As parable and dream-vision the two works are
similar in genre. Yet like Chaucer and Gower these two authors present radically diﬂ’erent
approaches to the search for the right relation. The voice of Julian’s parable is personal
and intimate, whereas the voice of Pearl is didactic and conﬁontational. Both works
dramatically illustrate the doctrine of submission, yet the ﬁgures in whom that authority is
seated—the lord and the Pearl-maiden—represent opposite extremes of the traditional
medieval hierarchy. The resolution of the spiritual relation is less comforting in Pearl than

in Julian’s parable. Still both works convey the same message about relations between

l 7
God and man—a message that emphasizes reciprocation and is supported by the
philosophical tradition derived ﬁ'om Aristotle.

The examination of works by Chaucer, Gower, Julian of Norwich and the Pearl-
poet all address the right relation indirectly through the example of their separate
narratives. By contrast the works of Langland and DeGuileville address the right relation
directly in discussions of the predicamentum ad aliquid by allegorical personiﬁcations.
These two works, Piers Hammer and be Pilgrimage of be foehood of Man, illustrate
most clearly the union of the secular and spiritual spheres in the right relation. Both works
are dream-vision, quest poems. Indeed, in the very similarities of these two works the
importance of the right relation for medieval audiences is most readily apparent.

The literary search for the right relation marks a response by authors and audiences
to the changes occurring in the later Middle Ages. England especially was at a crucial
point in the transition from a feudal to a more modern form of society. By the late
fourteenth century it had become obvious to all that the transition, though barely
understood, posed a mortal threat to the cherished values embedded in the older social and
economic structures and backed by centuries of religious and philosophical tradition.
Nevertheless, certain feudal practices and ideals persisted. Oaths of fealty continued to be
administered. The relation between a lord and his “commended” men survived in the King
and his council. And, most important to my argument in the following pages, many of the
feudal premises underlying the paradoxical relation between submission and authority are

re-valorized in the literature of the period.

CHAPTER I: CHAUCER AND GOWER

”ShoeeverylegeII-hject.” yuan-a

At the nominal bottom of the secular medieval hierarchy stood the laborer, in
literary sources usually a plowman. Whether this laborer tilled the ﬁelds, tended sheep,
picked crops, apprenticed in a trade—such as smithirrg, brewing, milling and others—or
raised children and tended to the physical needs of men and women, the laborer was the
person whose sweat and suynke and suﬂ'ering produced the food and goods upon which
the entire secular hierarchy depended. Langland's plowman is situated at this point on the
secular version of John of Salisbury's “ladder of virtue,” sharing that position with such
ﬁgures as Chaucer‘s Griselda, and Gower's Crying Voice. Each of these ﬁgures, in his or
her laboring condition, exempliﬁes the weak and powerless, those whose only available
asset seems to be a servile submission to all the more insensitive authority ﬁgures standing
ahead of the weak in the secular hierarchy. Yet Piers, Griselda, and the Crying Voice are
all among the most powerful literary ﬁgures produced in Middle English. How is it
possible for such powerlessness to convey a sense of great authority? Is it merely that
centuries of readers admire these ﬁgures for their Job-like perseverance in the face of
overwhelming cruelty and sin? Hardly. While discussion of Piers Plowman must wait for
another chapter, note should be made here that Piers’ character has been found to be

inconsistent and textually inadequate. The critical history of Griselda is riddled with
l 8

l 9
denigrating commentary that perceives her as almost evil in her submission to the cruel
and unusual demands of Walter. Gower's Crying Voice has been perceived as morally
pompous and inaccessible to modern readers. Yet the diﬁculties these ﬁgures seem to
present are the direct result of a modern failure to understand the right relation and the
doctrine of submission in late medieval English literature.

The ﬁrst words the Clerk speaks in his prologue are redolent of the oath of
homage. “‘Hooste,’ quod he, ‘I am under your yerde; / Ye ban of us as now the
governance, / And therfore wol I do yow obeisance, / As for as resoun axeth, hardily’”
(22-25). Despite his humble words, the Clerk clearly has some authority as teller of the
tale. Similarly, the moral uttered at the close of his tale invokes the language of fealty,
“But for that every wight, in his degree, / Should be constant in adversitee” (1145-1146).
In the face of such textual evidence few may doubt the inﬂuence of the doctrine of
submission and the identity of wills or the impact of the right relation in Chaucer’s
rendering of Griselda. S. K. Heninger Jr. observes that in the Clerk ’s Tale “the most overt
statements of order are additions by Chaucer,” and further that “obedience [or submission]
was a prime requisite in such social order . . .” (382, 383).

In Chaucer’s clerkly version of the Griselda story one can scarcely avoid bumping
into some aspect of the medieval dialogue concerning the right relation of authority and
submission. John P. McCall points out, citing R M. Lumiansky, that “submission to
authority is a rich and pervasive theme that goes far beyond the ties of Walter and
Griselda” (262). The potential for misunderstanding this theme is great. According to

McCall, “the Clerk is not at all concerned with the servile and, therefore, disconcerting

20
subjection of one human being to another.” Instead the Clerk develops the theme “that by
the free and total submission of the human will, the will itself becomes sovereign . . .”
(261).

The Clerk ’s Tale begins with the hierarchical sovereign of the story, the Marquis
Walter. Walter has emerged as one of Chaucer’s most problematical ﬁgures. For Walter
seems to embody at one time all that is best and worst in a secular authority. John
McNamara argues that Chaucer's variations on the Griselda story work to make “Walter
quite unsympathetic. . .” (185). However, “unsympathetic” is not an entirely accurate
descriptor. The lines in the Clerk ’3 Tale that introduce Walter portray him with true

ambiguity.

A markys whilom lord was of that lond,
As were his worthy eldres hym bifore;
And obeisant, ay rcdy to his hond,
Were alle his liges, bothe lasse and moore.
Thus in delit he lyveth, and bath doon yoore,
Biloved and drad, thrugh favour of Fortune,
Bothe of his lordes and of his commune.
Therwith he was, to speke as of lynage,
The gentilleste yborn of Lumbardye,
A fair persona, and strong, and yong of age,

And ful of honour and of curteisye;

21
Descreet ynogh his contree for to gye,
Save in some thynges that he was to blame;

And Walter was this yonge lordes name. (64-77)

A ruler who is portrayed as young, strong, attractive and well horn, who is both beloved
and dreaded, who is full of honor and courtesy, who governs discretely, and who is
nevertheless to blame in some things is, at the least, ambiguously drawn.

The ambiguity of Walter‘s initial portrait becomes even stronger, if we note the
juxtaposition, in line 72 above, of gentilleste and Lumbaraye.l Phillipa Hardman explains
that Lumbaraye was commonly associated with tyranny. “This phrase ‘tyraunts of
Lumbardye,’ has a proverbial ring to it: Chaucer clearly expected that it would be
immediately familiar to his audience. It is the phrase commonly used by historians to
describe the Sigrrori, the despots of Northern Italy in the later Middle Ages, families like
the Vrsconti of Milan” (172).2 The tyranny associated with Lombardy is a type of
government not normally characterized by gentillesse, and the contrast conﬁrms

ambivalence in the portrayal of Walter. Of this contrast, Hardman notes that

the allusions within the tale provide two extreme models of lordship: the

divine pity of the King of kings on the one hand, and on the other, the

 

lThemcdieval concept of“gentilesse” includesboth“nobility ofbirth or rank”and“nobi1ityofcharacter
ormanners”(MED).
2Tlrephrasr:isChaucer"s. SpokenbyAlcesteinherspecchonpropergcvernmentinthePrologueto

Legend of Good Women (G 353-5).

22
cruelty of a tyrant of Lombardy. Walter, of course, stands at neither
extreme: we see in Chaucer's characterization of him and in his behaviour

an imperfect mixture of pity and tyranny. (175)

Hardman is not alone in her assessment of Walter. Robert Stepsis recognizes that Walter
“does remain, on some level of the story, simply the ﬁgure of a human husband and a
mortal man . . .” (141). And even McNamara, citing the Epistle of St. James, emphasizes
that Walter “like everyone is tempted by being drawn away and enticed by his own
passion” (188). If anything, the initial ambiguity of Walter's portrait makes him a very
human being and, thus, draws sympathy to him.

Although characterization of Walter as “unsympathetic” may be based on his
cruelty toward Griselda, which does indeed divorce the reader's sympathies ﬁ'om Walter,
the early ambivalence with which Walter is portrayed is essential to understanding how his
cruelty is possible. However, as Hardman notes, Walter is neither the God-ﬁgure nor the
devil-ﬁgure that readers have made him out to be, but simply the ﬁgure of a man (17S).3
He is a ﬁgure whose failings are exaggerated—but not impossibly so—because of his
ﬁctive nature, his position as a ruler or hierarchically superior human being, and by

comparison with the hierarchically inferior but morally superior peasant he marries.

 

3McNamarapointsoutthat“Walterisnotadevil,buthestandsinthesamerelationtoGriscldaasthe
devildoestoJob” (192). HardmanacurallystatesthatWalter“standsatncithcrextrcme” oflordship

(175).

23

The ambiguity of Walter‘s characterization is illustrated throughout the story. His
greatest failing, as a character and a leader, is to be guided by his own desire. “I blame
hym thus: that he considered noght / In tyme comynge what myghte hym bityde, / But on
his lust present was al his thoght,” says the narrator (78-80). Walter's wrongful
submission to his own desire, his willfulness, shows itself as a niggling and private
compulsion to evaluate Griselda's constancy to her vows (451-460, 619-623). That
compulsion eventually becomes a public scandal and spectacle (785-791, 890-896). Thus,
Walter has both of Griselda's children taken from her secretly, refusing to counter rumors
of infanticide. By refusing to acknowledge gossip, Walter is making a somewhat wise
choice, for it is better that a lord be guided by his own self-will than that be subject himself
to rumor. The ﬁckleness of his people proves Walter’s wisdom in this case, for they seem
to forget the supposed murders in the excitement and glarnor of a new bride and a new
wedding. Walter's wisdom is consistently inconsistent, for he continues to try Griselda, by
setting her aside for a younger, more beautiﬁrl, better born bride and by compelling
Griselda to act as handmaid to her successor.

Walter‘s subjection to desire increases progressively. Whereas wisdom had earlier
guided Walter's will toward his people correctly, he eventually becomes so ruled by willful

desire that he begins to doubt Griselda more rather than less.

This markys wondred, evere lenger the moore,
Upon hire pacience, and if that he

Ne hadde soothely knowen ther bifoore

24
That par'ﬁtly hir children loved she,
He wolde have wend that som of subtiltee,
And of malice, for crueel corage,

That she hadde sum'ed this with sad visage. (687-693)

The nature of the doubt, unfortunately, is such as to compel Walter to try Griselda further.
The extent to which Walter is ruled by desire makes it doubly diﬁcult for him to
comprehend Griselda's total subordination of her own will to his. She is human, female,
and peasant-born; must she not be subject to desire as he is? When will her human
sinfulness reveal itself? How much will she take? The questions, doubts, and trials are all
indicative of Walter's inability to locate the right relation of lord and subject when he sees
it.

Walter‘s un-rightness is at work not only in his testing of Griselda but also in his
relationship to his people. However, Walter is no completely self-willed tyrant, for he
occasionally listens to the counsel of his lords. Walter's lords request that he how his
“nekke under that blisful yok / Of soveraynetee, noght of servyse, Which that men clepe
spousaile or wedlok” (113-115). Walter responds, “But nathelees I so youre trewe
entente, / And truste upon your wit, and have doon ay; / Wherefore of my ﬁ'ee wyl I wole
assente / To wedde me, as scone as evere I may” (148-151). Ever contrary, Walter
assents only to part of their counsel, reﬁrsing the suggestion that his lords ﬁnd him a
suitable wife, “Born of the gentilleste and of the meeste / Of al this land . . .” (131-132).

Walter not only refuses this portion of the lords’s counsel but also charges them that

25
Whatwyfthatltake, yemeassure
To worshipe hire, whil that hir lyf may dure,
In word and work, bothe heere and everywheere,
As she an emperoures doghter weere.
And fortherrnoore, this shal ye swere: that ye

Agayn my choys shul neither grucche ne stryve. (165-170)

Once again the ambivalence of Walter's character as a ruler is demonstrated; his refusal to
be guided totally by counsel ﬁ'om a recognizably authoritative source is in direct
opposition to the identity of wills that should, in a right relation, guide his actions.
Nevertheless, Walter’s refusal of guidance, at least in this one instance, is grounded in a
wisdom rarely demonstrated in Walter’s actions. “And for he saugh that under low degree
/ Was ofte vertu hid, the peple hym heelde / A prudent man, and that is seyn ful seelde”
(425-427). Walter shares identity of wills with his people only occasionally.
Nevertheless, his will and theirs is the same often enough to prevent Walter ﬁ'om being
classiﬁed as a thorough-going tyrant in the mold of Lombardy.

Although Chaucer’s Walter cannot be classiﬁed a tyrant, neither can he be
considered a consistent example of a lord whose relations with his subjects is right. The
relation of lord and subjects in the Clerk ’s Tale contrasts sharply with other such relations
in Chaucer’s works. Speciﬁcally, Chaucer describes the right relation of lord to servant in
Alceste’s words on “ryghtwyse lordshipe” from the Prologue to the Legend of Good
Women (LGW) and Prudence's words on counsel ﬁ'om the Tale of Melibee (1101). These

two tales cast considerable light on the ambivalence of Walter’s portrait.

26

Alceste's words demonstrate that “ryghtwyse lordship,” unlike Walter’s un-right
lordship, is the result of a careful balancing act between justice, mercy, compassion, and
equity; that is, as the doctrine of submission dictates, a balance between what the lord
owes the liegeman and what the liegeman owes the lord (366, 390, 376, 384). “He [the
lord] moste thynke it is his liege man, / and that hym oweth, of verray duetee,” (3 59-360
italics mine). These lines are, delightftu if not deliberately ambiguous, leaving the
referent for hym suspended between liege and man, since both are of necessity obligated
to serve each other in order to achieve the right relation that enacts the doctrine of
submission and the identity of wills (360). Alceste's words also make clear that tyranny or
bad lordship is willful, cruel, foul, and not lordship at all (355, 357, 388, 386). “For, sire,
it is no maystrye for a lord / To darnpne a man withoute answere or word, / And, for a
lord, that is ﬁrl foul to use” (3 86-88).4 Walter represents aspects of both the ryghtwys
lord and the tyrant; hence he can truly be neither. Walter is conscious of what he owes his
people—security in the form of a valid succession and the right to give counsel. He also
knows what his people owe him—submissive obedience and advice. However, he is not
conscious of what he owes Griselda—security in her marriage and the right to give
counsel. And he denies Griselda's debt of counsel to her lord while he continually
questions what Griselda owes, and gives, him—submissive obedience in the identity of her

will to his.

 

4AMmmmaﬁzesNargumentbyAqﬂnasManthMdoesndmnfommeimcrﬂiﬁne,

Mandpositive”lawis“bydeﬁnitionnotlawataﬂbutanabuscoflaw” (946-947).

27
Alceste's speech acknowledges that a good lord should “heron here excusacyouns,
/ And here compleyntes and petyciouns, / In duewe tyme, whan they shal it profre” (3 62-
364). By demanding Griselda's obedient submission and silence, Walter denies her a very
real opportunity to provide a service that she in all duty and loyalty owes him (351-357).
Melibee attempts much the sarna thing when he protests against hearing Prudence's

counsel. Signiﬁcantly, Prudence, unlike Griselda, is able to point out to Melibee that

ye seyn that if ye goveme yow by my conseil, it sholde some that ye hadde
ycve me the maistrie and the lordshipe over your personal Sire, save
youre grace, it is nat so. For if it so were that no man sholde be conseilled
but oonly of hem that hadden lordshipe and maistrie of his persona, men
woldan nat be conseilled so oﬁeJ For soothly thilka man that asketh
consail of a purpos, yet hath be free choys whaither he wole works by that

consail or noon. (1081-1083)

In denying, Griselda the voice to proﬁ‘er him counsel, Walter denies himself the exercise of
his reason, since he cannot choose counsel that he reﬁrses to hear. As a result, he can
only remain subject to the desire that caused him to silence Griselda in the ﬁrst place. This
unreason leads Walter progressively deeper into subjection, until little hope seems to
remain that he will ever recognize the right relation of lord and subject.

When the Clerk ’s Tale turns to the governed to examine the subjects’ stance in
relation to their master, Walter's subjects, with few exceptions, Show themselves to be no

better than Walter himself. Although generally obedient and submissive, they “grucche”

28
and complain enough to make clear that their will is not identical to Walter’s. As the

previous discussion of the people's ﬁckleness demonstrates, 5

The role of the people, when extracted from the body of the narrative,
becomes characterized by constant turbulence, by varying degrees of
discontent. It becomes all too apparent that popular homage to Walter (in
both a feudal and a religious sense) is written upon the krreas and lips and
not at all upon the heart. Obedience is merely grudging acceptance rather
than “perfect liberty of service.” The diatribe leveled at their faithlessness
is doubly signiﬁcant as no hint of it appears in Chaucer's sources for the

tale. (Johnson 19)

The diatribe to which Lynn Staley Johnson refers is a signiﬁcant narratorial evaluation of
the people's characterization as inconstant and as lacking in the right relation of master and

SCfVﬂﬂt.

O stormy peple! Unsad and evere untrewa!
Ay undiscreet and chaungynga as a fane!
Delitynge evere in rumbul that is newe,

For lyk the moone ay wexe ya and wane!

Ay ﬁt] of clappyng, deare ynogh a jane!

 

58eepage23above.

29
Youre doom is fals, your constance yvele preaveth;

A ful greet fool is he that on yow leevath. (995-1001)

The exceptions to this diatribe who contrast strongly with the people and with
Walter include Janicula, Griselda of course, and the sergeant. Although Jarricula's part in
the story is small, as Griselda's father, he is the exemplar of all that she is. When Walter
asks Janicula “To take me as for thy sone-in lawe,” Janicula responds as Griselda will
respond to every request or order Walter gives her (315). “‘Lord,’ quod he, ‘my willynge
/ Is as ye wole, ne ayeynes your likynge / I wol no thyng, ye be my lord so deare; / Right

9”

as yow lust, govemeth this mateere (319-322). To modern audiences this response is
submissive nearly to the point of obsequiousness. But to audiences who had close ties to
the medieval doctrine of submission, Janicula's response, “my willynge is as ye wole,” is
the very essence of the “identity of wills” that characterizes the right relation of master and
servant. When Walter sets forth the diﬁcult terms of his proposal—Griselda is to obey

his every desire, never to complain, always to agree with him and never frown or utter a

negative word (351-357)—Grisalda's response should not surprise us.

She seyde, “Lord, undigne and unworthy
Am I to thilka honour that ya me beede,
But as ye wole youresalf, right so wol I.
And heere I swore that nevere willyngly,
In work no thoght, I nyl yow disobeye,

For to be dead, though me were looth to deye.” (359-364)

30
Her words “as ye wole youreself, right so wol I” are mere variation on the theme taught
by her father’s example, “my willyng Is as ye wole,” a variation that occurs repeatedly at
critical moments in the tale.
One such moment occurs when Walter orders Griselda's daughter taken away,
allowing Griselda to believe the child is to be killed. The thematic variation appears in

Griselda's words.

Thar may no thyng, God so my soule save,
Liken to yow that may displese me;

Ne I desire no thyng for to have,

Ne drede for to lease, save oonly yea.

This wyl is in myn herte, and ay shal be. (505-509)

The sergeant echoes Griselda's words by his actions when he comes to take her daughter.
He oﬂ‘ers only these words with their distortion of the “identity of wills.” “That lordes
heestes mowe nat been yfeyned; / They mowe wel been biwailled or compleyned, / But
man moote nede unto hire lust obeye, / And so wol I; there is narnoore to seye” (529-
531). The sargeant’s mention of the ability to bewail and complain the lord's behest
demonstrates that he understands the right relation of master and servant less well than he
enacts it, for without comment he performs the task set to him by his master, Walter.

At a subsequent crisis point, when Griselda's son is taken in the same manner, the
“identity of wills” variation appears again. “I wol no thyng, ne nyl no thyng, certayn, /But

as yow list” (646-647). The narrator comments of Walter and Griselda alter this incident

3 1
that “it semed thus: that of ham two / Thar nas but 0 wyl, for as Walter last, / The same
lust was hire plesance also” (715-717). The variation on the “identity of wills” occurs
again when Walter sets Griselda aside as his wife and sends her back to her father. “‘For
sith it liketh yow, my lord,’ quod shee, / ‘That whilom weren al myn heretes rest, / That I
shal goon, I wol goon whan yow leste’” (845-847). Griselda's ﬁnal variation on the right
relation of master and servant recalls John of Salisbury's deﬁnition of the “identity of wills”
as an expression of love. Called upon to prepare the wedding feast and the new bride,

Griselda replies to Walter,

“Nat oonly, lord, that I am glad,” quod she,
“To doon youre lust, but I desire also

Yow for to serve and plese in my degree
“ﬁthoutan fayntyng, and shal everemo;

Na nevere, for no wele ne no wo,

Ne shal the goost withinne my herte stenta

To love yow best with al my trewe entente.” (967-973)

Griselda's consistent compliance with Walter's will is exemplary, yet Griselda is no martyr.
She certainly does not seem to consider herself as one. Rather, Griselda exempliﬁes the
right relation of servant to master, aligning her will with that of her lord in whatever
capacity he designates for her, be it peasant and laborer, steward and wife, or housekeeper
and maidservant to her own successor. Certainly the doctrine of submission represented

in Griselda is easy to perceive. The same cannot be said of Walter.

32
IfGriselda represents the ideal servant, Walter represents the true, and far from
ideal, human condition, for he represents the ideal neither in his ability to serve nor in his
ability to lead. Indeed, he proceeds ﬁrrther and further from the ideal as the tale

progresses, until Griselda's submission brings Walter back to right sovereignty.

And whan this Walter saugh hire pacience,
Hir glada chiere, and no malice at al,
And he so ofte had doon to hire offence,
And she ay sad and constant as a wal,
Continuynge evere hire innocence overal,
This sturdy markys gan his herte dresse

To rewen upon hire wyﬂy stedfastnesse. (1044-1050)

For a lord to have mercy upon the suﬂ’ering of innocence and steadfastness is truly right
lordship. 1

Walter is unable to sustain the “identity of wills” on his own and requires the
constancy of a Griselda to enable him to ﬁrnction. This need is hinted at when Griselda
acts as ruler during Walter's absence (428-441). Indeed, narratively, as Walter submits
increasingly to desire, his country is increasingly in need of the rulership Griselda's
submission to her “sovereign yok” provides. Had Griselda's constancy with Walter’s will
failed at any point, Walter would have lost more than a wife; he would have lost his
lordship completely. In order for Walter to retain his right relation in marriage and in the

kingdom, he must submit to the rule of Griselda's example. McCall's assessment is a valid

33
one. Griselda, who freely submits her will, becomes sovereign, both literally in being
restored to her status as Marquessa and ﬁguratively since her submitted will is identical to
Walter's will which is sovereign by narrative ﬁat, and by the authority of Griselda's willing

submission.

Although the lessons of the Griselda story about power and paradox in the
doctrine of submission are relatively easy to perceive, the performance of willing
submission is close to impossible. The modern audience’s negative perceptions of
Griselda suggest the problems involved in enacting a paradox, even so desirable a paradox
as the doctrine of submission. Clearly, if that paradox is not enacted, the rightness of the
relation between lord and servant is in doubt. Gower’s Vox Clamantis, like the Clerk ’s
T ale, demonstrates the diﬂiculty of establishing the right relation. And like the Clerk ’s
Tale, Vox Clamantis suggests that the hope of establishing the right relation rests in the

acceptance of the doctrine of submission throughout the secular hierarchy.

In the opening Epistle of Vox Clamantis, dedicated to Thomas Arundel, Gower
characterizes the narrator of Vox Clamantis as a spiritually frail but eager laborer.
“Therefore, Father, I bag that while I am laboring at my writings, you set the soul of a
zealous spirit at rest” (Gower 47-48). Gower carefully establishes his narrative relation
with Arundel, and other readers, upon a model that the Voice of One Crying will exclaim
as the basis for all right relations, the sovereignty of submission and the identity of wills.

As a servant, Vox Clamantis’ humble laboring voice carefully enumerates the tasks he will

34
perform. He hopes to stimulate the mind, lament the suﬁ‘ering of Christ’s law, provide a
source of reﬂection, and make manifest the deeds of the world. In exchange Arundel is
asked to provide rest for a zealous spirit, guidance for the servant’s blindness, protection
for his body, and guardianship in life and in death (Gower 48). Clearly, Gower wishes the
narrative voice of Vox Clamantis to be perceived as sharing with Griselda a weak position
within the secular hierarchy.

Yet as analysis will make clear, the narrator of Vox Clamantis has a unique power
in that weakness. That power, unlike Griselda’ s, is apparent ﬁom the outset. The
narrator’s power is apparent in the conﬁdence with which he proclaims the products of his
labor and in the authority of textuality referred to at the opening of Book I. “Writings of
the past contain ﬁt examples for the future, for a thing which has previously been
experienced will produce greater fai ” (Gower 49). Although conceding by convention
that Vox Clamantis’ newer writings have less authority than those of the ancients,
placement of this narrative within the tradition of textuality aligns it with the authority that
all texts, all voices thus crying in ink, by their very nature share for the medieval reader.
Like the paradox central to the doctrine of submission, the tension between weakness and
power in Gower’s text contributes to the density of Gower’s work. Indeed, because the
Crying Voica’s authority is easily apparent, distinguishing the submissivaness that
throughout Vox Cleanantis authorizes power is often more diﬁcult than in Chaucer’s
version of the Griselda story. Vox Clamantis appears to be relentlessly focused on
nominally higher authority. That apparent focus serves to raise questions about who or

what that higher authority is. In addition, the focus of Vox Clamantis prompts questions

35
about whether that authority is established by virtue of rank alone or whether some other
basis, like the doctrine of submission and the identity of wills is required to validate secular
authority.

Gower’s Latin opus, labeled variously as class criticism and estates satire, is
organized on a hierarchical basis that begins with the worst of the peasant classes and
builds toward the ideal sovereign. The rebellious, bestial, and seemingly unparadoxical
peasants in the opening visio of Vox Clamantis represent a clear antithesis to the kind of
sovereign submission exempliﬁed by Griselda. Vox Clamantis’s harsh treatrnarrt of these
ﬁgures who subvert the divinely ordered hierarchy by remaining outside its governing
paradox is well known. Maria “fickert states that the opening visio “one-sidedly
condemns the insurgents as rebels against divine as well as human law. . . . His beast
vision has the sole purpose of expressing with almost mathematical precision an easily
intelligible, scathing value judgment” (7, 33). John Fisher explains that “the vision or the
Peasants’ Revolt which introduces the Vox Clamcmtis may be recognized as an exemplum
of the fearful eﬂ‘ects of rebellion against universal order” (170). Robert O. Payne implies
that such an exemplum has an authenticating purpose for the narrative voice of Vox
Clamantis. “[T]ha voice we listen to . . . . has to be authenticated by a persona we can
believe and trust because he is an experienced, scarred survivor of his own humanity”
(253). As the critical commentary illustrates, the harsh treatment accorded the rebels is
undoubted, but the purpose of that harshness in the context of Vox Clamantis is far from
clear. That harshness is not simply the result of a distaste for the peasantry as a whole.

“As a matter of fact, he [Gower] elsewhere expresses deep concam for the peasants in

36
their place and he here [Vox Clamantis 1.991] voices his disappointment in the failure of
the aristocracy to live up to its obligation to maintain order” (F ishar 173).

Fisher’s phrase “in their place” highlights the issue that determines the narrator’s
empathy or antipathy for the peasantry or any of the various social classes who come
under scrutiny in Vox Clwnantis. “Gower does not criticize the principle underlying the
political or social order, but the deviations ﬁom this principle of which individual classes
are guilty” (Vlfrckert 171). The Crying Voice reminds us throughout the visio that the
rebelling peasants provide the most obvious examples of deviation from the doctrine of
submission and the “identity of wills” that are the underlying principles of the social
hierarchy.

The most compelling reminders occur in the visio’s allegorical representation of
Sudbury’s death. “The peasant said to the nobles, ‘We have great power, and ﬁ'om this
timeontharewillbeanend ofrespectforyou.’ . .. Thaﬂock ofsheep poirrteditssharp
horns at the shepherd, and they grew wet, stained by the blood which poured ﬁ'om his
heart. . . . The thistle destroyed the ears of grain . . . ” (Gower 78). These metaphors
represent an acknowledgment of seemingly powerful actions by the third estate.
However, the gruesome actions of the peasantry have only the form of power, since their
acts do not originate in submission. Thus, the rebels’ place themselves in an unright
relation and the Voice condemns them for it. “Since they feared neither God nor man,
these men deserved to be enslaved to devils for their faults” (Gower 78).

The power that the peasants claim for themselves is not the paradoxical power

engendered and exempliﬁed by Griselda-like submission to nominal authority. The

37
narrator perceives those who defy the secular hierarchy as deserving of slavery, lacking
even the power of their own reason, free-will, and humanity. The resemblance of the
Gower’s un-right peasants to Walter from the Clerk ’3 Tale is striking. Gower’s peasants,
like Walter, exemplify the metaphorical inverse of the doctrine of submission in which the
abuse of power and the desire for authority inherent in some other and higher place in the
hierarchy overpowers and makes servile any who attempt it. Clearly for Gower, the rebels
exemplify this desire; their lust for a higher place has, in the narrator’s view, made slaves
of them: they are a “slavish band,” and “So great was the number of these slaves of
perdition that scarcely any wall could contain them” (Gower 70).

But the rebellious peasants are not the only group in the visio who use power
inappropriately, resulting in relations that are un-right. The knightly class comes under
ﬁre for its own inappropriate behaviors, speciﬁcally for not using the authority vested in
the ranks of the nobility to serve as protection for others in the hierarchy. “The peasant
attacked and the knight in the city did not resist. . . .Priam did not slrina than with his
usual honor, instead, the master put up with whatever the servant did to him . . . . The
nobleman ﬂed and wandered about, and there were no places quite safe either in the
ramparts of the city or in woodland retreats” (Gower 71, 72, 76). However, the faults of
the noble class go beyond inaction. The noble class too has misused the might that is its
primary responsibility. This class too has shed the archbishop of Canterbury’s blood.

The analogy drawn between the deaths of Becket and Sudbury suggests that

Gower understood that “an extensive guilt, not an insigniﬁcant one, has with good reason

38
tainted us” (Gower 113). Vox Clamantis cries out against a pervasive and enduring moral

disorder of the secular hierarchy.

A knight was the chief culprit in shedding Thomas’ blood; a peasant
funiished the weapons for Simon’s murder. Nobles who did not fear
Christ’s Church were the cause of the martyr Thomas’ murder; and the
peasant class, opposed to justice in the realm, brought about Simon’s last
day in the city. Thomas sank down in the bosom of his Mother, and Simon
fell by the sword because of the turmoil in the midst of his children. The
King could have saved Thomas, but the royal power was without inﬂuence
in regard to Simon’s life. Thomas’ death was avenged, and now vengeance

for Simon’s death threatens daily outside the door. (Gower 73)

The implication that the peasants, in typical lower class fashion, irnitata the actions of their
batters, albeit ﬁ'om another generation, is clear, especially in view of the statement that,
“The cause is dissimilar, yet there was one death for the two” (Gower 73). In both cases
the right relation was destroyed. The parallel is further illustrated when Gower applies the
same patricidal allegory to both deaths (1.14). “He who had been the protection of the
soul had no protection, and the children whom the father cherished killed him” (Gower
73). The patricidal allegory intensiﬁes the madness of social disorder that springs ﬁom the
inverted doctrine of submission. And because of the familial metaphor, that inversion now
wears the same intimate and spiritual face that John of Salisbury invoked as a metaphor

for the right and loving relationship between any authority and subordinate.

39
The intimacy of this visionary interpretation of events in 1381 does not remain on
the third-person level of narrative metaphor. The 16th chapter of book I illustrates the
very personal involvement of the dreamer with the visio events. The ﬁrst person now
dominates the discourse rather than being restricted to the introductory portions of
narrated events, and the dreamer himself is caught up in the madness engendered by social

disorder.

Than abandoning my own home, I ran away across alien ﬁelds and became
a stranger in the wild woodlands. Lashed from behind by peoples’ tongues,
I often fall to the ground, and without any crime on my part I was often
like a criminal. Thus wretched, I was arraigned in my absence, and
although my cause was excellent, it perished since no one defended me.
Tracing my weary steps along the upward path alone, I sought to ﬁnd a
safe road. Nevertheless, fear of this great madness added wings to my feet,

and I was like a bird in my swift ﬂight. (Gower 80)

The passage is a compelling one, and the narrative continues in much the same vein
throughout 1.16. What is striking about this passage, and 1.16 in general, is its similarity
to the madness topos found in courtly romance, where the sojourn in the wild wood is a
primary trope, like solitariness, a disheveled appearance, indecision or confusion, hunger
and deprivation, and emotional distress. The only trope ﬁ'om the romance madness topos
missing in Gower’s passage is the loss of clothing. Gower includes in his use of the topos

all of the tropes that indicate the dreamer’s similarity to the beastly peasants in the earlier

4o
portions of the visio. The disorder of society and the dreamer’s personal disorder mirror
each other.
The resemblance is important for the simple reason that the dreamer, like the
rebels, cannot in his mad fear establish any kind of right relation. Kurt Olsson, in a

seminal article on Vox Clamantis, explains the dreamer’s diﬁculty in the visio as

a primary fault of misperception. Physical, extemal place and the moment
dominate his thoughts. Remembrance and expectation are present in his
mind, but he is still obsessed with the instant, trapped not only by time-—
the tyranny of the present—but by geographical place. . . . Though
concerned with place, he has not discovered the place proper to him. (144-

45)

Olsson further explains that the dreamer “must regain his sense of justice, of things
standing in right relationship” (146). The re-establishment of justice, of right relations, at
the personal and social levels occupies the remaining books of Vox Clamantis. However,
re-establishment of the right relation proves quite diﬁcult. Each estate is examined and
found wanting in the justice or tightness of its relations, “no estate is pious as in days gone
by,” until the epistle to the king in Book VI demonstrates how justice originates in the
right relation of the icing to his subjects, to the law, and to God (Gower 113).

After examining the third estate, the cultors, and touching brieﬂy on the knightly
class in the visio, the next to come under the scrutiny of the Crying Voice are the clergy—

the prelates, curates, rectors, and priests in that order. The list of oﬁ’enses by the clergy is

41

extensive, although most can be categorized as hypocrisy, for the Voice cries out how the
prelates fail to follow Christ’s example: “Christ was poor, but they are overloaded with
gold. He used to make peace, but they now wage war. Christ was generous, but they are
as close as a money-box. Work occupied Him, but plentiful rest pampers them. Christ
was gentle, but they are violent” (Gower 116). The list continues in the same vein and
draws attention to the un-rightness of the clergy’s relation to others in the secular
hierarchy. “He suﬁ‘ered humbly, but they desire to be superior” and further “Christ
reﬁrsed whole kingdoms for Himself upon the mountain, yet nothing is pleasing to these
men except worldly glory” (Gower 116-117, 118).

When Vox Clamantis deals with the place of the prelates within the hierarchy, the
hypocrisy generalized in the list of oﬂ’enses by the clergy is immediately apparent.

Recalling Matt. 6:24, Gower writes:

No honest man can serve two masters. Nevertheless, the prelate in oﬁce
does serve two: he says he is the servant of the Etemal King, yet he serves
an earthly king and waits attendance upon him. Peter was the bearer of the
keys to heaven, but this fellow demands the keys to a king’s treasure for
himself. Thus it is that the “devout” man is [now] grasping and the “mock
is haughty; and a man who is far too much attracted by this earth is

“heavenly.” (Gower 120)6

 

6cf.Matt6: 24: “Nomancansarvetwomasters. Foreitherhewﬂlhatetheomandlcvetheother. or

hewiﬂmnaintheomanddespisetheother. YoucannotsarveGodandmammon” (Douay-Rherms).

42
The inversion of the doctrine of submission observed in the bestial peasantry is once again
apparent in the assessment of the clergy oﬁ’ared here, and Vox Clamantis makes clear the
evil resulting ﬁ'om the actions of those who by seeking power deny the service that their
place in the social hierarchy requires of them. The selling of indulgences and the ﬁnes
levied in of the ecclesiastic courts are cited as examples of the clergy’s hypocrisy and
concern with worldly power and authority. “He serves Mammon for tainted money, but
he does not help us to gain the kingdom of heaven” and “a purse of gold does not atone
for such a crime; rather, a contrite spirit is the remedy” (Gower 122). This evidence
compels the Crying Voice to assert that clergyman or prelate, he “who has given his all to
the cherishing of this world cannot render any proﬁtable service to his chosen God”
(Gower 121). The clergyman whose relation is un-right, who seeks power outright rather
than by submission, or who submits to the wrong lord, harms not only himself but also all
who seek his service as a representative of God. In this, the clergy is very like the
peasants who cause others to go hungry by reﬁrsing to submit to the labor that designates
their place, as well as their ﬁrnction within the social hierarchy.

Following the extensive discussion of the relations right and un-right among the
clergy, the Crying Voice retunrs to an examination of relations among the knights. Rather
than beginning his scrutiny with the offenses of the knightly class, Gower’s Crying Voice
opens Book V with a review of the service knights provide in their rightful place. The

knights

are under obligation to assist and uphold temporal aﬂ‘airs . . . . It

[knighthood] was ﬁrst established for three reasons: ﬁrst, it is to protect

43
the rights of the Chrirch; second, it fosters the common good; third, it is to
uphold the right of the needy orphan and defend the widow’s cause with its
power . . . . knighthood is responsible for the general establishment of

security for all other classes of society. (Gower 196, 206)

Since in the right secular relation the knight employs his might in the service of all others
in the hierarchy, the knight who employs his might in the service of one individual no
longer maintains a right relation. The examples given in Vox Clamantis of such un-
rightness are the knight who ﬁghts for vain-glory and the knight whose amorous desire
drives him to ﬁght. “But if a knight makes war for the sake of vain praise, his praise is
unwarranted, if it is granted under such a circumstance” (Gower 196). Among the
metaphors used to describe the knight who ﬁghts for love are “a slavish prince, a subject
queen and a destitute king” (Gower 198). All are arranged to emphasize the loss of power
and privilege rather than its increase. Thus, Gower once again in his description and
evaluation of un-right relations invokes the inverse of the doctrine of submission,
previously identiﬁed in the peasantry and the clergy. In addition, the knights who operate
in un-right relations, like the peasants and the clergy who also seek to master without
serving, are hannful to the community at large, as the opening and closing lines to V8
demonstrate. “Wickedness on the part of the knightly estate harms and oﬂ‘ends all other
classes of society by its unseenrliness. . . . Thus their honor is empty, since it is without
responsibility” (Gower 207, 208).

A retunr to the estate of cultivators rounds out the examination of the three

traditional estates in Vox Clamantis. The third estate works as tillers of the soil and

44
providers of food. “They are the men who seek food for us by the sweat of their heavy
toil, as God Himselfhas decr ” (Gower 208). But, as with the other two estates,

something has gone wrong with the peasant class.

Now, however, scarcely a farmer wishes to do such work; instead, he
wickedly loafs everywhere. An evil disposition is widespread among the
common people, and I suspect that the servants of the plow are often
responsible for it. For they are sluggish, they are scarce, and they are
grasping. For the very little they do they demand the highest pay. Now
that this practice has come about, see how one peasant insists upon more
than two demanded in days gone by. Yet a short time ago one performed
more service than three do now . . . . They desire the leisures of great man,
but they have nothing to feed themselves with, nor will they be servants.

(Gower 208-209)

The peasants, here as earlier in the view oﬁ’ered by the visio, have inverted the doctrine of
submission, attempting to become powerful without the authorizing submission required
for true power. The relation of a serving class that does not serve is distinctly un-right
and out of place in the medieval secular hierarchy. Yet once in disorder, the peasantry and
the other estates are powerless to correct themselves. “It is not for man’s estate that
anyone ﬁom the class of serfs should try to set things right” (Gower 209).

The administrators of justice, the lawyers, bailiﬁ‘s, judges, and ultimately the king

are responsible for the social disorder and are the only earthly authorities who might

45
possibly set the secular hierarchy right again. “For it is right that everyone be governed by
the justice of the lavi’ (Gower 220). The Voice cries out that a just relation is a right
relation. “But the one who devotes himself to the true law and honestly ﬁrrthers the
justice of his neighbor’s complaint is, as the Psalmist sings a man most blessed” (Gower
220). Authority validated by submission to another’s govemanca, whether to the local
lord, the king, the law, or God, is just and right. This is the doctrine of submission, and
this doctrine directs the focus of Vox Clamantis toward the highest nominal secular
authority as demonstrated by the epistle to the king, beginning in Book V1.8.

However, before the epistle to the king, the ﬁrst seven chapters of Book VI
enumerate the abuses of the ministers of the law with speciﬁc reference to their motivating
greed and avarice. The examples of the wrongs done by the lawyer are numerous.

Among these examples the lawyer is compared to “the whore, who cannot love a man
unless it be for a gift” (Gower 221). As seen throughout Vox Clamantis and other Middle
English works the absence or misuse of love characterizes a relation as urn-right. The
insistence of commentators, like John of John of Salisbury, on the presence of love
characterized by willing submission in the relation between master and servant, lord and
vassal, king and subject is axiomatic. And relations in which love characterized by willing
submission is missing are ran-right. The closing passage to V1.1 metaphorically illustrates

the consequences of the lawyer’s greedy misuse of legal authority.

The night owl is said to be sharp-sighted at night, and in the daytime tries
to use less light. Those who are versed in the law imitate this bird, since

they are engaged in the evils of darkness, and do not possess the beneﬁts of

46
the light. Quite often, however, the prey which it seizes is its death, since
its inevitable and lies in secret for it. For the hawk is unexpectedly at hand,
hungering to cany off the young fowls. Thus deceit often falls because of
its own deceit, the captor is captured, he who devours is himself devoured;

the poor [ﬁsh] loves the book by which he is caught. (Gower 222).

Once again Vox Clamantis demonstrates that the desire for or use of power in the absence
of submission is the un-right relation of the inverted doctrine of submission. But if even
the ministers of the law are in disorder due to un-right relations, how is order, the right
relation, to be reestablished? “What is a people without law, or what is law without a
judge, or what is a judge, if without justice?” (Gower 230).

The answer given by the Crying Voice paraphrases the answer given by John of
Salisbury and others. “Therefore, all who govern kingdoms can see that the greatest part
of our fate depends upon them. . . . Ifthe leader loses the way, his followers among the
people go astray, and the road by which they are to return is much in doubt” (Gower 231).
The responsibility of the Icing is clear. He must submit himself to God, to the law, and to
good counsel, inorder to achieve the authority necessary to lead rightly. In the words of
Vox Clamantis, “every liege is subject . . . . For the king who is willing to submit himself
to the highest King will obtain everything asked for during his rule” (Gower 233, 244).

Following an established pattenr, the Voice mixes illustrations of both right and

un-right relations between the king, his subjects, his counselors, the law, and God. The

47
14th chapter of Book V1 is typical and compares the king with the plowman? “The
people are a king’s soil; the king is a tiller who tills the soil. Ifhe tills it badly, it brings
forth thistles. Ifhe tills it well, it bears grain. He who wields a king’s command well is
king, but he who rules unjustly amidst conuption is a tyrant” (Gower 243). The allusion
to the paasarrts of the visio whose rebellion and usurpation of authority resulted in the
death of Simon, Archbishop of Canterbury, is unmistakable (Gower 7 8). And the
consequences will be the same. Forced enslavement to the devil results ﬁ'om power
exercised in un-right relations. The authority of God is given to the king who in a right
relation willingly submits to God’s justice as Christ did, and such a king invokes the
imitatio dei as the exemplar of the right relation.

Having established that the king is the person responsible for the re-establishment
of right relations in the secular hierarchy, the question remains how to achieve that re-
establishment. Olsson maintains that the right relation is established in fear. In reference
to an earlier passage of Vox Clamantis, Olsson states, “The person who maintains his
rightful place in the hierarchy of God’s creatures perceives the changeable nature of
Fortune’s goods. Proper fear impels him to give way to the true superior . . .” (147). The
nature of proper fear is clariﬁed in V1.14. “Not everyone who is aﬁ'aid loves, but
everyone who loves is afraid. People in love suffer both love and fear at the same time.
Love conquers all things; love is a king’s defense; his love for the people is an honor and

glory to God on earth” (Gower 243). Proper fear then is that fear which all who love—

 

7 Langland makes a similar comparison in Piers Plowman (C.IV.143-145). See Chapter 111 following.

48
parents, children, men, women, clergy, layfolk, et eaten—experience at some time
regarding the safety and well being of the beloved as well as the desire to be held in good
regard by the beloved. Such fear is not that which results from or prompts tyranny or
coercion. Proper fear “is now the aﬂ‘ectus by which we arrange our inner life by a sense of
place, ordering the body to its superior, the soul, and the soul to its superior, God. Such
ordering is nothing less than the recovery of proper place . . . ” (Olsson 156). So the king
who fears God and loves God and fosters the imitation of that relation in all his subjects
throughout the secular hierarchy should eventually be able to re-establish just and right
relations in his kingdom.

Iffear and love alone were suﬁicient to re-establish order and right relations, the
epistle to the king would end at V1.14; however, the epistle does not conclude for another
four chapters. These four chapters reiterate not only that fear and love are necessary for
right relations to be re-established, but also the doctrine of submission must be obeyed.
The Crying Voice instructs the king to “be subject to God, if you wish to conquer the
world. He who serves Christ rules the choicest realms” (Gower 246). The idea of the
secular sovereign’s willing submission to God is repeated less clearly in the headnote that
summarizes the closing of the epistle. “Just as a king shall strive to elevate himself
through the prerogative of his privileged status, and hence rule magniﬁcently in the eyes of
the people, so shall be present himself as humble and just in the eyes of God, in order to
sustain the burden of his governing with full justice” (Gower 247). Thus, in a right
relation, power and authority are gained by willing submission to one’s superiors and the

requirements of one’s place in the hierarchy. This concept is as evident at the close of the

49
epistle to the king as it was in the opening of the dedicatory epistle to Arundel. The
recommendations to the king for re-establishing right relations and order in the secular
hierarchy oﬁ’er hope that the present disorder will eventually come to an end.

However, the closing chapter to Vox Clamantis is pessimistic in its tone and,
unlike the close of the Clerk ’s Tale, oﬁ’ers little hope that the right relation will be

established before the second coming. Nebuchadnazzer’s dream of the seven ages of

htunanity is analyzed with depressing thoroughness. The golden age is gone.

No glorious fame of a magnanimous man, a man whose renown is
acceptable to both God and man, now wings its way throughout the world.
No generous man now scatters his gifts among the needy, and the rich man
scarcely feeds them at his table now. He scarcely clothes the naked poor
with piety, or receives the wanderers who he knows lack shelter. No one
remains who wants to take pity on those thrust into prison, and no healthy
hand aids the sick. Amidst the discords at present there is no ancient bond

of love which comes to restore us. (Gower 254).

The “ancient bond of love” is that “identity of wills” that throughout Vox Clamantis has
been the missing ingredient in the lord and servant relation. The absence of that ingredient
inverts the doctrine of submission, producing a relation in which the discord of struggles
for power remains constant. The closing book of Vox Clamantis dramatizes Aristotle’s

warning that “where the relation of master and slave between them is natural they are

50
friends and have a common interest, but where it rests merely on law and force the reverse
is true” (Aristotle, Politics 1 1).

What the Clerk ’3 Tale, Vox Clamantis, and similar works of late medieval English
literature offer readers is the vision of the right relation seen through the dark glass of
human eyes and events. While the Clerk’s Tale oﬁ‘ars the clear hope of a reestablished
right relation, Vox Clamantis oﬁ’ers only the barest glimmer that achievement of the right
relation is possible. Neither work suggests that the right relation will be established
without considerable change throughout the spectrum of the secular hierarchy. And in
both works the focus of that change is the nominal secular authority—Walter in the
Clerk ’s Tale and the king in Vox Clamantis. Both works conclude with a narratorial
caveat to the audience for the necessity of willing submission as the authorizing
characteristic of true sovereignty. Vox Clamantis invokes the frightening image of the
lordless ones, wanting that England has become “lawlessly ﬁerce” (Gower 285). The
result, for the crying voice, is the inverted doctrine of submission, “she who rightly used to
be higher than all on earth is herself almost enslaved, now that God is elsewhere” (Gower
285). Despite the sarcasm of the clerk’s envoy, the caveat of the Clerk ’s Tale is more
encouraging than Vox Clamantis’s dire wanting. “And for our beste is al his [God’s]
governaunce. / Lat us thanne lyve in vertuous sum'aunce” (1161-1162). Yet here too,

willing submission is the key to the right relation.

CHAPTER II: JULIAN OF NORWICH AND THE PEARL-POET

“negammuummrwurn

We have seen how the example of Griselda’s patient endurance and the “plaints”
of the Crying Voice are both grounded in the doctrine of submission and these ﬁgures give
vent to the medieval secular belief in right relations. Just so Pearl and Julian of Norwich’s
parable of the lord and the servant spring from the doctrine of submission and give voice
to the medieval belief in the spiritual necessity of the right relation. Indeed both works
distinctly spiritual. No doubt exists about the spiritual nature of Julian’s parable, and
Sister Mary Madeleva demonstrates how Pearl is ultimately concerned with a crisis of

spirit. 1

The talk in the Pearl is always of a spiritual disease and a way of being rid
of it, by patience, humility, abandonment to the will of God. This
preoccupation with maladies of the soul, with the utter emptying oneself of
one’s own will, with acquiring the grace ofGod . . . . is part ofthe spiritual

history of every religious; it is recorded in every spiritual autobiography

 

lManyscholars,however,disputeMadeleva’sinterpretationofPear-l. Forthemostcogcntopposing

argument, see Ian Bishop’s Pearl in Its Setting.
5 l

52

and every authoritative book on the spiritual life; it is the conspicuous

theme of Pearl. (149-150)

The disease that Sister Madeleva identiﬁes as a central concern of Pearl is characterized
by the absence of union or identity of wills between man and God. As Gower’s
conclusion to Vox Clamantis demonstrates, that crisis of the spirit—which Sister
Madeleva labeled dryness or desolation—aﬂlicted the secular as well as the spiritual
medieval world. The concern with desolation or absence of union in both secular and
spiritual medieval thought shows vividly the preoccupation of both worlds with the right
relation. Even more so, this common preoccupation with the relacoun rect demands
examination of that relation in spiritual as well as secular literature.

Scholars who study Julian rarely fail to comment upon the importance of the right
lord and servant relation as a key to understanding Julian’s showings in general and her
parable in particular. Yet few of those scholars concur as to the exact nature of the right
relation, as Julian expresses it. B. A Windeatt explains that “the showings themselves are
seen as instance of his [God’s] homeliness (just as the incarnation itselfwas an instance of
his [God’s] homeliness towards mankind) which encourage reciprocal homeliness from
us” (Glasscoe 64). R Maissoneuve notes the same reciprocal quality, stating that Julian
“contemplates the divine mysteries—the life of the trinity, the redemptive mission, the
relationship of God to his creation in terms of reciprocal looking, ﬁ'om the Father towards
the Son, from the Son toward the Father, from God toward his creature, ﬁ'om the creature

toward God” (Glasscoe 90). Anna Baldwin identiﬁes the importance of the relation in the

53

parable speciﬁcally, when Julian uses “the language of contract to prove that there are
mutual obligations between God and Man” (Phillips 79). Sister Ritamary Bradley implies
the universality of the right relation. “Mystics through the ages stress that their religious
experience is an experience of inter-connectedness of all reality. Under a single
perspective Julian communicates this inter-connectedness in a dynamic fashion” (Phillips
94). M. L. del Mastro suggests that Julian, after contemplating the lord and servant
parable for twenty years “ﬁnds the key to the mystery [of salvation] in the simultaneous,
multiple identity of the servant, and in his relationship to all men and to the Father” (87-
88). Brad Peters notes that in her efforts to understand the reality of evil Julian is at one
point denied a vision because “she is not yet ready to understand evil’s reality. She must
gain a more cogent sense of God’s relationship to mankind” (197). Thus, Julian is shown
the parable of the lord and the servant. Such varied commentary is evidence—if such is
required—in support of A M. Allchin’s estimation that “Julian goes on to expound with
her customary balance and depth the whole traditional Christian understanding of Man’s
relationship with God” (Glasscoe 79). Any attempt to deﬁne more speciﬁcally the relation
between man and God, except on the most personal of levels, would be without doubt
presumptuous. Such is not the purpose of this study. I want instead to illustrate that
despite seemingly wide debate and radically diﬂ‘erent styles and genres the authors of late
medieval English literature shared a common understanding of the right relation.

Julian’s parable, like Chaucer’s Clerk ’s Tale, presents the story of a lord and the
servant who suffers almost unbearably in the lord’s service. Like Griselda, the servant of

Julian’s parable reaps a reward far greater than expected at the reader’s ﬁrst encounter

54
with either the servant or Griselda. Unlike the Clerk ’s Tale, however, Julian’s servant
seems in some ways more human than the Clerk’s Griselda. We can certainly note that
Griselda never failed or faltered in her submission to her lord’s will; nevertheless she
suffered much. Nor can the lord of Julian’s parable be accused with any certainty of the
kind of cruelty and selfwill that Walter displays. Yet these two works convey a similar
message about the right relation to their respective audiences.

Julian’s parable concenrs a servant and his zeal to do his master’s bidding. “The
servannt nott onely he goyth, but sodenly he stertyth and rynnyth in grett hast for loue to
do his lordes wylle. And anon he fallyth in a Slade, and takyth ﬁrl grett sorow . . . (514-
515). The servant’s eagerness and subsequent pain essentially prevent the servant from
completing the task that the master gave him. His is an eagerness observed not so much in
the Clerk’s Griselda but in Gower’s Crying Voice, and we will see later that in Peal the
dreamer’s eagemess causes his fall back into the suﬂ’ering world and the loss of the
celestial vision. Sister Madeleva provides a wealth of evidence that the eagerness
exhibited by the dreamer in Peal is a signal characteristic of impending spiritual crisis or
un-rightness in the relation between lord and servant. In the dedicatory epistle to Vox
Clamartis Gower’s Crying Voice indicates that the relational crisis was not unknown in
the secular experience. Gower—and by extension his audience—was suﬁciently familiar
with the consequences of eagerness that his Crying Voice sought of Arundel protection
from the consequences of zeal. “Therefore, Father, I beg that while I am laboring at my
writings, you set the soul of a zealous spirit at rest” (Gower 48). Thus in both secular and

spiritual works the zeal of a character is indicative of a relation about to go wrong.

55

In her parable of lord and servant, Julian metaphorically leads the reader through
the entire process of establishing a right relation with God, from the initial desire for an
identity of wills and deﬁnition of roles, through the lord’s orders to his servant, the
servant’s eagerness and fall into un-right relation, to true submission and ﬁnally
establishment of the right relation. Julian states that her beholding begins with the lord
and the servant. She deﬁnes clearly the speciﬁc identities of the master and servant in her
mystical vision. Nevertheless, we, like medieval readers, may take the message of the
relations between Julian’s lord and servant to be applied universally because Julian is
telling a parable. Her deﬁnition of the lord is unequivocal. “The lorde that satt solemply
in rest and in peas, Ivunderstonde that he is god (521).2 Julian’s deﬁnition of the servant
contains ambiguities absent in her deﬁnition of the lord, and she draws our attention to
them: “In the servant is / comprehendyd the seconda person of be trynyte, and in the
saruannt is comprehendyd Adam, that is to say all men. And therfore whan I say the
some, it manyth the godhed whych is evyn with the fader, and whan I say the servannt, it
manyth Crystes manhode whych is ryghtfull Adam” (532-533). Christ in both his
humanity and his divinity provides the enactment of the right relation deﬁned by the

doctrine of submission.

 

2TheseatedamhoiiiyisarhetoricaliropeeasiryreengnizediniheClerk'sraredampen-runwellas
Julian’sparable. Thmediwalideaoflordshipaswatedwhﬂeaﬂmhasstandmnnastssharplywim
mdemconvenﬁonsinwhichleademstandeitherwithorovertheirfoﬂowers,asagestureofrespectand

equality.

56

Julian’s parable seems, on the surface, fairly straight-forward; initially no question
arises as to who wields power and who submits. The exchange of service for provision is
a fundamental of medieval lord and servant relations. That exchange establishes the
circumstances around which the spiritual relation of lord and servant shifts ﬁ'om right to
un-right and back again as Julian illustrates the varying concepts concerning relations
between man and God. In respect to the exercise of power by the lord, Julian’s parable
resembles the Biblical parables used by early Christian missionaries to convert the pagans
of the British Isles. Julian’s parable depicts a lord whose power and authority are
unlimited and unambiguous. The Biblical parables used by the early missionaries were
interpreted to emphasize the power of the Lord without limit or paradox. That emphasis
eventually hardened, supporting and strengthening the visible, worldly power of the

church. Wmdeatt observes that

For Julian the question of authority was peculiarly intense, since the
validity of her experience of revelation underpinned her writing and—very
probably—her commitment to the anchoress’s life. But as she had
meditated an alarming gap had apparently developed between the two
supports of her world, the unique showings given individually to her and

the general teaching of the Church. (Glasscoe 63)

However, in respect to the nature of the lord’s power, unlike the missionary use of Biblical
parables and—as W'mdeatt points out—contrary to the general teaching of the Church,

Julian’s parable concentrates on and emphasizes the companionship or love that John of

57
Salisbury and the Peal-poet among others maintained was a requirement of any right
relation. The parable identiﬁes such companionship in acts of suffering, gift-giving, labor,
and restoration.

Julian illustrates the Lord’s part in the companionship of the right relation by using
the images of“homlynesse,” “stedfastnesse,” and seatedness.’ These images recall
Bloch’s deﬁnitions of the right master and servant relation expressed in the act of homage.
Julian states, “And what tyme that he [God] of his goodnesse wyll shew hym to man, he
shewyth hym homely as man, not with stondyng that I saw verely we ought to know and
beleue that the fader is nott man” (525). As many scholars of Julian’s work have
demonstrated, in a right relation, the bond between man and God—servant and master—is
reciprocal and inseparable; so much so that the master is “homely” to the man. Edmund
Colledge and James Walsh translate homely as “familiar,” citing I John 3 :2 as the
forerunner of the idea Julian expresses by her use of the word “homely.”4 However, as
Sister Bradley notes, “For Julian all comparisons fail to convey how ‘homely’, how near,
how much a part of life God’s goodness is: it comes down to the lowest part of our 11 ”

(Phillips 93). As Sister Bradley’s comment indicates, the sense of “homely” as familiar is

 

3That/03Dgivestheprimar'ydeﬁnitionof“lromli”as“Usedathome,characteristicofahome...
partainingorbelongingtoahousehold...”asin“ahouseholdservant...membersofone’sfamilyor
household,” Of“stedfaste”theMEDgivesthefollowingz “Ofaperson:ﬁrminpurpose,belief, faith, ctc.,
unwavering,resolute...unswervingtruth;alsoearnestwill.”
‘“Dearlybelovcd,wearenowthesonsofGod;andithathnotyetappearedwhatweshallbe. Weknow,

thatwhenhewiuappear,weshaubelikemhim:bccauseweshaﬂsaehimasheis”(Douatheims).

58
only partially satisfactory. The present day sense of familiar conveys little more than a
degree of proximity and comfortable acquaintance with God. Julian’s use of “homely”
indicates a special sort of intimacy that occurs only as a result of the kind of paradox in
which one or more of the entities involved contains and is contained in the other. The
doctrine of submission is just such a paradox, and the “homelynesse” named by Julian is a
representative aspect of that doctrine.

Julian also uses the image of “stedfastness” to illustrate the quality of
companionship between master and man. She writes, “The blewhed of the clothyng
betokenyth his stedfastnesse . . .” (526). Although this term occurs only once in the long
version of the parable, the image is central to the idea of companionship in the right
relationship.’ Bloch cites Beaumanoir on the importance of loyalty: “‘As much’ writes
Beaumanoir, ‘as the vassal owes his lord of fealty and loyalty by reason of his homage, so
much the lord owes his vassal’” (228). Baaumanoir’s words demonstrate that the
reciprocity of the right relation holds true even in the stedfastnesse of the lord. Later,
Julian ampliﬁes her usage of stedfastnesse with a visual example, “I saw hym heyly enjoye
for the worschypﬁrll restoryng that he wyll and shal bryng hys servannt to by hys
plentuous grace” (527). This restoration is more than the establishment of status by the

exchange of gifts and services. The “stedfastnesse” that Julian writes of here is that highly

 

5Wemustnoteherethatlulian’sparableoftheLordandtheservantdoesnotappearintheshortversion
ofherrevelaﬁonapresumodtohavebecnwﬁttcnshonlyaﬁertheexpenence. Also,1wouldliketothank
pmfeworNomnHmmnforhkyadmsasdmmwnfyingmemmooaumof“ncdﬁsmes”m

Julian’s parable.

59

prized quality of loyalty so often exempliﬁed between true ﬁiends that, without thought to
self, rejoices at the advantage gained by or any beneﬁt to the other participant in the
relation.‘5 Julian’s illustration of ﬁiendship and loyalty signiﬁes the ideal of the right
relation, just as the gifts and services exchanged between the lord and servant of the
parable signify the media through which the doctrine of submission is expressed.

Early in Julian’s parable, the lord speaks of gift giving, bringing that signiﬁer of the
doctrine of submission to the attention of the reader in a way that stresses the degree of

rightness in the relation.

Then seyde this curteyse lorde in his menyng: Lo my belouyd servant, what
harme and dysses he hath had and takyn in my servys for my loue, yea, and
for his good wylle. Is it nott reson that I reward hym his frey and his
drede, his hurt and his mayme and alle his woo? And nott only this, but
fallythit nottto meto gevehymagyﬁethatbebettertohymand more

wurschypﬁrll than his owne hale shuld haue bane? And ells me thyngkyth I

dyd hym no grace. (517-518)

This is not just proper Christian behavior; the remarks of the lord quoted here represent
the foundation of the right relation in which service and servanthood are recognized with

an appropriate gift and the prestige of both lord and servant are increased by the act of

 

6 Julian’s description of the Lord’s “stedfastnesse” resembles closely the Pearl-maiden’s descriptions of

herownlcrd.

60
giving. In the same respect, the services performed by the servant acknowledge the lord’s
status and deﬁne his power over the servant.

The gifts exchanged between lord and servant in Julian’s parable are staples of
Christian belief. The lord gives to the servant, “Hye ovyrpassyng wurschyppe and
endlesse blessa,” “worschypfull restoryng ” and a dwelling place in the city of the soul
(518, 527, 525). These beneﬁts are given as reward for and as a direct result of the
services performed by the servant, which include the servant’s “good wylle,” his “meekly
suﬂ‘er[ing],” the servant’s labor as a “gardener,” and most signiﬁcant to Christians, the
restoration of the city of the soul (517, 516, 530, 526).

The ﬁrst two services performed for the lord are mentioned in connection with the
action of the parable in which the servant’s eagerness causes his own suﬁ‘ering. Although
the servant was responsible for his own hurt and woe, Julian stresses the absence of blame
‘ resulting ﬁom the servant’s good will, “I behelde with avysement to wytt yf I culde
perceyve in hym ony defau3te, or yf the lorde shuld assigrre in hym ony maner of blame;
and verely there was none seen for oonly his good wyll and his grett desyer was cause of
his fallyng . . .” (516). However, the absence of blame for suﬂ’ering caused is a Christian
spiritual ideal. Indeed, the servant’s fall caused not only his own woe but also caused

deprivation for the lord.

He [the lord] made mannes soule to be his owne cytte and his dwellyng
place, whych is most pleasyng to hym of all his workes. And what tyme
man was fallyn in to screw and payne, he was not all semely to serve of bat

noble oﬂ’yce; and therfore cure / kynde fader wolde haue dyght hym noon

61
other place but to sytt vppon the erth, abydyng man kynde, whych is
medlyd with erth, tyll that tyme by his grace hys dear'wurthy some had
brought agayne hys cytte in to the nobyll feyarnesse with his hard traveyle

(525-526).

The servant’s actions deprived the lord of his dwelling place and of the services due the
lord by the servant’s consequent unﬁtness. In an unright relation, the servant’s actions, to
this point in the parable, merit punishment as much or more than reward. The Christian
concepts of forgiveness and salvation must be in operation here, in order for the city of the
soul to be restored and the relation made right. Janet Grayson illuminates the
blarnelessness of the servant’s fall. “When Julian explains the servant’s injury suﬂ'ered in
the fall as ﬂesh and mortality inherited ﬁ'om Adam, she comprehends the moment when
the fall is the very act that secures his salvation” (157). This is the very essence of the
doctrine of submission; the servant submits himself not only to the will of the lord, but also
to the servant’s own limitations, for those limitations constitute the circumstances under
which the will of the lord must be achieved. To refuse or alter the circumstances would
create disparity between the will of the lord and the will of the servant, resulting in an un-
right relation. The servant submits not only to his personal limitations or failings and the
will of the lord but also to the suﬂ‘ering shared with the lord that was a consequence of the
servant’s failings. Anna P. Baldwin demonstrates the importance of this mutual suﬂ‘ering
in the right relation. “There are then in the fourteenth century two diﬂ'erent ways of
teaching patience [or suﬂ'ering] . . . . One is retributive, treating patience as a means to

pay for sin or to buy heaven. The other more idealistic, showing patience to be the virtue

62
which most directly imitates Christ, and which transforms sin and death into love and life”
(Phillips 76). Beyond the retributive power of suﬁ‘ering to merit reward, suﬁ’ering’s
transfonnative capability enacts the doctrine of submission, achieving the right relation in
the most literal manner possible.

Julian also stresses the increase in the reward that resulted ﬁ'om the suﬂ‘ering of the
servant, “his grett goodnes and his owne wurschyppe, that his deerworthy servannt,
whych he lovyd so moch, shulde be hyely and blessydfully rewardyd withoute end, aboue
that he shulde haue / be yfhe had nott fallen . . (513)? The reward for service rendered
is very much a part of the right relation. Even an increase in reward for extraordinary
suffering in the lord’s service may have been warranted to maintain lightness. Certainly
the late epics and early romances, in which all retainers are rewarded but the hero’s
portion is greater due to his greater suffering, provide evidence of increased reward for
increased hardship. This type of reward gained through the retributive power of suﬁ‘ering,
as implied by Baldwin, is warranted by the doctrine of submission.

The last two services rendered by the servant to the lord in Julian’s parable, the
servant’s labor as a gardener and the restoration of the city of the soul—the lord’s
dwelling place—are the culmination of the action of the parable. Julian makes clear that

the one is directly related to the other. In fact while presented separately, these two

 

7ThededmdﬂnWanwmhksavambeyOMWMmigMbedeemodappmpnammmdmy
mmhasmlmnmmrthedebambaweenmejewelaammepaﬂ-Mdenmmemmofher

rewardinheaven.

63
sevicas are demonstrably similar. As the lord sits in the wasteland, without food, waiting

for his servant, Julian,

beheld, thynkyng what manner labour it may be that the servannt shulde do.
And then I vnderstode that he shuld do the grettest labour and the hardest
traveyle that is. He shuld be a gardener, deluyng and dykyng and swetyng
and tumyng the erth vp and down, and sake the depnesse and water the
plantes in tyme. And in this he shulde contynue his traveyle, and make
swete ﬂodys to rynne and nobylle plentuousnesse ﬁ'uyte to spryng, whych
he shulde bryng before the lorde, and serve hym therwith to his lykynk.
And he shulde nevyr turne agayne, tyll he had dy3te this mett / alle redy, as
he knew that it lykyd to be lorde; and than he shulde take thys mett with
the dryngke, and bare it full wurschypply before the lorde. And all thys
tyme the lorde shulde sytt ryght on the same place, abydyng the servant

whom he sent cute. (530-531)

As will be seen in later discussions of Peal and Piers Plowman, Julian’s earlier reference
to the ﬁrms of the servant’s labor as “a tresoure in the erth whych the lorde lovyd” is
noteworthy (529). For this reference combines service with treasure, the two media of
exchange associated with the power of servant and sovereign positions in the doctrine of
submission. Signiﬁcantly, the lord sits awaiting the completion of the servant’s labors,
drawing a parallel with the lord’s seated position while waiting for the restoration of the

city of the soul “into the nobyll feyemesse with his harde traveyle” (53 9). Like the seated

64
posture of the lord and the standing position of the servant at the opening of the parable,
the lord’s seated position here draws attention to two aspects of submission. Seatedness
is representative of that type of submission exempliﬁed in Griselda’s patient acceptance of
every sorrow that came to her. The upright posture anticipates and is representative of
the servant’s suﬂ‘ering through his own actions. Both are integral to right spiritual relation
exempliﬁed by Christ and expressed in the imitatio Dei. Thus, the seated posture of the
lord and the use of the term “traveyle” in context with that posture makes clear that the
treasured fruit of the servant’s gardening and the restoration of the city of the soul are one
and the same.

The preceding discussion should make clear that the alternation of the son-Christ
and the servant-man pairs within similar contexts of Julian’s parable emphasizes the
importance of Christ’s submission to the ﬂesh at his father’s will and imitation of Christ’s
submission by man. Man’s right spiritual relation rests in patiently accepting and in
working through his sojourn in the ﬂesh, thereby enacting the imitatio Dei. The imitatio
Dei is anticipated, in Julian’s earlier reference to the soul as being made by the lord, “he
made mannes soule to be his owne cytte and his dwellyng place, whych is most pleasyng
to hym of all his workes” (525). This reference increases the paradox inherent in the
doctrine of submission, in its enactment as the imitatio Dei, and in Christ’s simultaneous
roles as deity and man, for the city made by the lord is restored by the eﬂ'orts of the
servant who is such by the lord’s will—that is, by the lord’s creative act.

The aspects of the parable that characterize companionship in the right relation,

“homlynesse,” “stedfastnesse,” and saatedness, that have been discussed thus far are

65
completely grounded in the doctrine of submission. Yet, Julian takes each concept beyond
its doctrinal basis, layering each with additional meanings indicative of the re-exarnination
of the roles of master and servant that was on-going in the church and spiritual activity of
her time.

Julian does the same with the reconstructive aspect of the doctrine of submission,
an aspect necessary for maintaining any right relation established under the doctrine of
submission.” In Julian’s vision, the fall and restoration of the city of the soul—exempliﬁed
in the person of the servant—increases understanding of the reciprocity of the right
relation and its characteristically strong reconstructive aspects. The best known secular
attempts to achieve a right relation among medieval men, vassalage and serfdom, resulted
from western European responses to invasion and destruction of extended families.
Vassalage and serfdom emerged ﬁ'om the need to protect, preserve, and reconstruct
society in the interests of survival. At the most basic level this reconstructive aspect is
also true of the right relation in Julian’s parable. The entire purpose of the servant’s fall
was to reconstruct the soul of man as a ﬁt dwelling place for God.

The actions that master and servant take on within a right relation acquire purpose
when we understand this most basic eﬂ‘ort to survive. Within Julian’s parable the actions
of the lord are all designed to enhance the survival chances of the servant. Those actions

are many and varied. They include: sending the servant to do the lord’s will, sitting in

 

8Thereconstructiveaspcctsthatldiscussinthischapterfallundertheideaof“apocatastasis” Allchin’s

article presents a wider discussion of this topic.

66

peace and rest, having compassion for the pains and eﬂ‘ort of the servant, rewarding the
servant’s efforts, waiting for the servant to act, and accepting and rejoicing in the fruits of
the servant’s labor (514, 516-517, 517-518, 526, 527). These actions achieve not only
beneﬁt to the lord of the parable, but also the goods necessary to the servant’s survival by
restoring the dwelling place that the master shares with his servant laborer. The
reconstructive aspect of the doctrine of submission is not as esoteric an idea as its
application to Christian belief makes it seam. The lord, in medieval society, was
responsible for the provision and housing of each servant or vassal. The lord could and
often did require the services of his servants and vassals in acquiring and maintaining both
provisions and housing. Just so, under the doctrine of submission that governs Julian’s
image ofthe restored city ofthe soul, the lord shares with his servants and vassals the
provisions and the shelter acquired through the eﬂ’orts of those servants and vassals.

The actions of the servant in Julian’s parable also serve the purpose of survival.
The servants actions include: standing ready for the lord’s command, serving the lord by
doing his lord’s will, suffering meekly any injuries incurred in that service, accepting the
rewards of the lord, laboring and travailing, and participating in the power of the lord
(514, 516, 518, 529, 542). The servant, in medieval society, owed obedience and loyalty
to his lord. The servant’s obedience and loyalty permitted him to share in the provisions
and shelter of the lord, and by association, in the lord’s power. This is especially true of
vassals and servants who held oﬁces of their lord in which they acted as his representative
and could legally wield the lord’s authority. Julian highlights this aspect of the right

relation by illustrating the power exerted by Christ, the servant-son, in his labors. “And at

67
this poynt he beganne furst to show his myght, for than he went in to belle; and whan he
was ther, than he reysyd vppe the grett root oute of the depe depnesse, whych ryghtﬁllly
was knyt to hym in hey havyn” (542).

The exercise of lordly authority by a subordinate is a labor and a service that has as
its purpose increasing the ability of the lord to exercise his responsibility for provision and
shelter. The actual practice of designated authority, especially as commercialism gained
ground, was far ﬁ'om the ideal illustrated in Julian’s parable. That the ideal failed in
practice does not preclude its success in Christian belief. Nevertheless, it is important to
realize at this point that the reconstructive concepts in Julian’s parable had basis in the
ideal relation of shared power possible only in the uniting of servant and sovereign
through the tension of paradox dictated by the doctrine of submission. In fact, the
paradoxes inherent in the doctrine of submission almost ensure the success of power
shared as power increased. Because in Christian belief, the lord, God, and the servant,
Christ, are the same yet separate beings, the power of God must be the power of Christ
both by the principle of equality and by lordly designation. The restoration of the city of
the soul is ensured because the servant not only wields the lord’s power as his
representative, but in Christian belief, the servant is the lord and the lord is the servant.
The right relation that ensures survival, whether it be the survival of the city of the soul or
the survival of a secular society, is achieved by application of servanthood and lordship,

through the imitatio Dei, founded on the doctrine of submission.

68

Scholars have identiﬁed several aspects of Peal that are relevant to the medieval
concern with right relation. Ian Bishop identiﬁes “the necessity of submitting to Fate—or
in Christian times to the Will of God” as a major topic of Peal (18). Lynn Staley Johnson
notes in Peal, as we have seen in Julian’s parable, the progressive nature of the spiritual
right relation. “From the rotting body of the lost Peal to the risen body of Christ, the
poem traces a pattern of resurrection and transformation, of spiritual harvest” (Blanch 10).
A. C. Spearing states most speciﬁcally that, “the whole force and poignancy of the poem
derives from its basic structure as an encounter involving human relationship . . . .” (101).
The issue of right relation is a central concam of Peal. And the Peal-poet makes the
same point that Chaucer, Gower and Julian make, that sovereignty, lordship, and authority
in any right relation can be gained only by submission in both will and action.

The dreamer’s diﬁculty submitting to his spiritual lord in will and action is
apparent ﬁ'om the outset of the poem. The poem opens in an “erber grena,” and the
wealth of sensory detail provided by the narrating jeweler as he mourns the loss of his
“Peal’ draws attention to the strength of his attachment to the material world. Sarah
Stanbury points out that “it is just this excessive attention to the pearl and its locus in the
grave . . . that causes the jeweler to grieve out of measure” (148). As has been amply
demonstrated by Chaucer’s Walter, Gower’s peasant rabble, and Julian’s servant, being
out of measure is symptomatic of an un-right relation. The narrator’s obsessive grief is so
all consuming that by the and of the ﬁfth stanza of the poem he no longer stands upright
but, like the servant in Julian’s parable, lies prone, in as complete physical contact as

possible with the object of his obsession (57-58). The dreamer’s obsession with the

69

material is observable in his speech as well as his physical state. “The dreamer’s courtly
diction ﬁrnctions ironically, directing the attention of the audience to his over-attachment
to the material world and above all to his inability to ‘derne’ correctly—the Middle English
word means both ‘to judge’ and ‘to speak’—conceming things of the spirit” (Gross in
Blanch 79). The ﬁrst ﬁve stanzas illustrate the beginning point for the narrator’s visionary
progression ﬁ'om un-right to right relation with God. In them, the Peal-poet prepares the
ground for “the progress of the dreamer to a vision of mystical union,” a progress that is
“mirrored in his relationship to space” (Stanbury 148).9

Jane Chance, in comparing the structure of Peal to the tripartite structure of
medieval sermons, states that “one might note the three ﬁgurative settings succeeding the
literal arbor—earthly paradise redolent of the biblical Eden (as in Genesis), parabolic
vineyard described in the New Testament (the Gospel), and Heavenly Jerusalem (as in
Revelation)” (Blanch 38). Chance fluther explains that within each setting the dreamer
conﬁonts problems concerning the pearl and must accept the solutions taught by the pearl-
maiden “in order to progress spiritually” (Blanch 39). Thus, as the dream progresses, so
does the relation—both spatial and spiritual—of the dreamer within the subsequent
settings of the poem. Just prior to the opening of the dream, he is fallen and horizontal,
physically occupying and preoccupied with the ground of the world. The opening line of

the dream draws anew the spatial and spiritual relationship, “Fro spot my spyryt bar

 

S’ItisnotmyintentheretoreproduceStanbury’sexcellentanalysisofvisualandspatialrelationabut

mthermhighthandmmmanzeherreseamhmrespoamtheideaof“ﬁgmmlaﬁons”

70
sprang in space” (61). While the dreamer’s body remains “on balke per bod in sweven,”
his spirit, previously obscured by grief, is no longer horizontal and earth bound, but
upsprung and aloft (62). The image and sensory perception is of ﬂoating, disconnected
from and un-related to the surrounding environment, for at this point the upsprung spirit is
neither self-propelled nor self-directed but “keste per klyfe; cleuert / Toward a foreste I
bare be face” (66-67).

Although the dreamer’s spirit is no longer consumed by grief; neither has the
dreamer’s spirit lost its preoccupation with the world of the senses. “The adubbement of
po downeg dare / Garten my goste al greﬂ’e forgete” (85-86). The dreamer’s visionary
sight is ﬁrst directed upward to the cliﬁ’s and the skies. However, it is the beauty, the
adornment of the setting which draws his attention. So much is the dreamcr’s attention
focused on the “schymeryng schene” of his surroundings that his formerly ﬂoating spirit
literally becomes grounded, albeit the ground upon which the dreamer’s spirit walks is the
ground of a visionary setting and not the ground to which his body is bound. No longer
cast and borne about, the spirit of the dreamer is now astride and connected to the sensory
earth of his visionary perception, “Nis no W3 worpe pat tonge bereg. / I welka ay forth in
wely wyse” (100-101). Nevertheless, the dreamer still moves forward, the scene changing
as he proceeds. “I wan to a water by schore bat schere3; / Lorde, dare war; hit
adubbement” (107-108). Even at this early stage in the poem, some progress has been
made in the restored ability of the visionary spirit to move toward a right relation.

However, much remains to be done beyond the restoration of spiritual movement

and connection, for the connection with the visionary ground is insuﬁcient to sustain a

71

right relation. The shifting of the dreamer’s gaze and his comparison of the gems in the
streambed with a starry sky shows the great degree of progress yet to be made. “In be
founce per stonden stone; stepe, / As glente burg glas bat glowed and glygt, / A
stremande sterneg, quen strobe-men slepa, / Staren in welkyn in wynter ny3t” (113-116).
“By placing this splendour below the dreamer’s feet, the poet causes the most exalted of
spectacles that is visible from Earth to appear in the lowliest position in this realm of
transcendent beauty. This sirnile taken from Nature is all the more eﬂ'ective for occurring
in a passage where Art predominates over Nature” (Bishop 90). The passage is all the
more ironic for the dreamer’s inability to recognize and thus follow the example of the
right relation given in his own sirnile, wherein the most exhalted has its locus in the
lowliest. Instead the dreamer remains preoccupied with the physical splendour of his
surroundings.

The larger portion of the poem is sat beside the newly discovered stream (stanzas
10-97). Although the sight and the speech of the dreamer’s spirit cross the stream
repeatedly, the spirit itself remains on the bank it ﬁrst approached. In addition, the
visionary spirit is still restless, related to its surroundings only by the tenuous link of the
visionary landscape. The narrator’s initial obsession and his spirit’s restless movement
recall the eager, and inappropriate actions of the servant in Julian’s parable. The medieval
term for restlessness is ‘unsittenden’ an antecedent of the present day ‘unsettled.’ In this
restless state of unright relation, the narrator arrives at the water, but he does not
comprehend the meaning of the water. The dreamer perceives the water only as a barrier

to closer inspection of a more beautiful landscape on the opposite shore. “More and

, 72
more, and 3et wel mare / Me lyste to se be broke bygonde, / For if hit wat; be fayr bar I
con fare, / Wel loueloker wat; be fyrre londe” (145-148). The narrator’s longing for the
visual wealth of the opposite shore begins to lead him in the same direction as his worldly

longing for the lost pearl.

Abowte me con I stote and stare;

To fynd a forbe faste con I fonde,

Bot “10ng mo, iwysse, bar ware

be fyrre I stalked by be stronde;

And euer me b03t I schoulde not wonde

For wo be wales so wynne wore. (149-153)

Fortunately for the narrator, as he gazes longingly at the unobtainable beauty of the
opposite shore, he spies the pearl-maiden. “At be fote berof bar sate a faunt, / A mayden
of menske, ﬁll debonere” (161-162).

When ﬁrst seen, the pearl-maiden, in contrast to the narrator’s “unsittenden” spirit,
is seated ﬁnnly upon the visionary ground against a backdrop of crystal cliﬁ‘s. The
medieval audience would be familiar with the ﬁgure of the seated authority. Indeed, the
trope of the seated authority and the standing or moving servant has been used most
eﬂ’ectively by Julian to contrast the lord’s patience with the servant’s fall. Chaucer
employed the inverse of this trope to highlight Griselda’s quiet acceptance with Walter’s
near murderous actions. Further, the pearl-maiden’s seated ﬁgure brings into the poem

the medieval concept of ‘ryghtwysness’ in both its senses as correctly positioned and as

73
good wisdom. As a metaphor for serenity and patience, the maiden’s seated position,
nrirrors God and contrasts with the narrator who is both literally and metaphorically
ﬁmsittenden.”

The narrator is struck by the pearl-maiden’s purity and her gem-like qualities.
Indeed, the poet’s skillful manipulation of alliteration and hyperbole intensify the pearl-
maiden’s appearance so much so, that the dreamer’s momentary sense of recognition
(lines 164 and 168) is overwhelmed by his preoccupation with the physical details of her
appearance. The audience is treated, in the poet’s description of the Peal-maiden to
ﬂights of poetic fancy that can distract readers ﬁ'om the author’s underlying purpose (169-
240). Thus the audience than shares that distraction with the Jeweler, who is distracted
ﬁom the Peal-maiden’s true worth and identity by the surface glamour of the Peal-
maiden’s outward show. His preoccupation with the physical details of the maiden’s
appearance prevent the narrator from immediately recognizing her and thus ﬁom
establishing a right relation.

As the narrator stares, the maiden stands and strolls down the slope on her side of
the river. The narrator fears that she is leaving. Metaphorically, his spirit remains in a
state of loss. But instead of the anticipated departure, the maiden oﬂ'ers the narrator
speech, “ Ho profered me speche” (235). The use of ‘profered’ here emphasizes that the
establishment of a communicating relation requires the narrator’s willing acceptance of the
Peal-maiden’s oﬂ‘er. By accepting the oﬂ‘er of relation based on communication, the
narrator makes another step toward a right relation. He is still overly concerned with

sensory and material details, but he no longer wanders aimlessly, unattached and

74
unrelated. In his preoccupation and his fear, the narrator is typical of the medieval view of
man in the un-right relation. “The subject,” Johnson says of medieval narrative, “is man,
but man undone and insuﬁcient to the task at hand . . . ,” man in distinctly un-right
relations (Voice xiii). As such a man the dreamer is fortunate that the maiden embodies
‘rightwysness,’ for his inability to recognize her and the ‘rightwysness’ that she represents
could easily have led him to accept an un-right relation, as his worldly, dreaming self had
accepted a relation with grief that was out of measure.

At this point in the poem, the narrator’s relation with the Peal-maiden develops
verbally in an exchange of debate, rebuke and instruction. The physical relations between
dreamer and setting become, for the large part stationary. However, two other settings
are introduced, and the narrator’s relation to them is ﬁrst aural and then visual. The poet
may have had tropological motives for the focus on the aural and visual senses, based on
Christ’s allusion in Matt. 13:13 to the prophecy of Isaias. “Therefore do I speak to them
in parables: because seeing they see not and hearing they hear not, neither do they
understand” (Douay-Rheims). Yet the establishment of aural and visual connections with
the settings introduced by the maiden marks another authorial paradox in the narrator’s
progress toward a light spiritual relationship. Because of the narrator’s continued and
“amazed dependence on his senses,” no small portion of the poet’s artistry rests in the
subtlety of the maiden’s using the nanator’s senses to instruct him in the un-rightness of
his relation to his senses as spiritual guides (Johnson, Voice 164).

During the course of her conversation with the narrator, the Peal-maiden relates

the parable of the vineyard ﬁom Matt. 20: 1-16. The vineyard setting is a signiﬁcant one.

75
Allegorically, the scene of agricultural cultivation represents fallen man’s right relation
with the earth, established in the admonition to Noah found in Gen. 9:1 to “Increase and
multiply, and ﬁll the earth” and contrasts sharply with the prone, inert, and unproductive
position of the dreamer’s sleeping body on the earth. Rhetorically, the vineyard is at a
mid-point between the untouched Eden, or locus amoenus, of prelapsarian man and the
reconstructed Jerusalem that is the seat of God. The dream narrator’s relation with the
vineyard is strictly aural, established throughout the audible words of the Peal-maiden.
Unfortunately, the narrator fails to hear the same meanings that the maiden’s analysis of
the parable conveys and provokes ﬁrrther debate—to be examined later—on the
worthiness required to enter heaven.

Following the parable, in response to the narrator’s query about where she lives,
the maiden introduces the setting of the new Jerusalem. Her discussion of Jerusalem
involves both the old, worldly Jerusalem and the new, spiritual Jerusalem. The dream
narrator still can not hear the maiden’s message; his preconceptions of the issues under
debate continue to mislead him. So, when he asks to see the city of which the maiden
speaks, he is shown it, thereby expanding his relation with that civic setting ﬁ'om a purely
aural to a visual one as well. Upon viewing the holy city, the narrator is ﬁrst awestuck
and than inspired. Hope emerges for establishment of the narrator’s right relation with
God, a hope that, apparently, is to be dashed once again.

In spite of all the apparent progress the narrator has made toward a right relation
and in spite of the maiden’s express warning not to cross the stream, the narrator

succumbs to personal longing once more. He submits not to the maiden, an exemplar of

76
“ryhtwyssnoss,” but to his own nus-directed, self willed eagerness to be with the maiden.
Johnson draws attention to “the fact that his [the dreamer’s] emotional ﬁenzy ends in loss
of vision . . .” She states further, “The poem itselfbears witness to the dangers of
emotionalisrn, or of purely affective faith, in the droamer’s early despair, in his simple-
minded reactions to the maiden’s instructions, and in his ﬁrtilo attempt to cross the river
alone. As the poem implies, emotion on its own is vulnerable to self-involvement,
ultimately to despair; and the believer must learn to live by faith, not by touch” (Voice
174,175). These implications are all symptomatic of the un-right spiritual relation. Only
upon waking, and rising from the ground upon which his body rests can the narrator
recognize that of course he could not cross the stream and should not even have tried. His
return to the setting of the world, after his visionary encounters, is that which provides the
dreamer with the impetus and the resolve to do in this mortal world all that he can in order
to establish a light relation with God. “be presto vus schewag vch a daye. / Ho gef vus to
be his homly hyno, / Ande precious [361163 vnto his pay. Amen. Amen” (1210-1212).

The narrator’s progress toward a right relation with God is marked in the dream
not only by his relation to the settings of the dream but also by debate over the concepts of
ownership, worthiness, service and reward in his conversation with the Peal-maiden.
These concepts arise because they are the indicators of lightness or un-rightness in
relations and are the media for enacting both the submission and sovereignty govemod by
the doctrine of submission.

A lesson in ownership constitutes one of the narrator’s small steps forward within

the scenario of the debate. Bishop notes that “the use of the familiar lapidary formula

77
helps to emphasize the fact that Christ, and not the dreamer, has always been the pearl’s
rightful owner” (83). Although the nan'ator comes to recognize the similarity between the
material Peal lost on earth and the spiritual Peal-maiden, he still fails to recognize the
pearl-maiden for what and who she truly is. He had always failed at this, for even at the
opening of the poem the dreamer had thought of the lost pearl as belonging to him. At the

point where the narrator believes he has recognized the pearl, he asks,

Art bou my perle bat I hafplayned,
Regretted by myn one on nygte?
Much longeyng hafI for be layned,
Syben into grosse bou mo aglygte.

Ponsyf, payred, I am forpayned. (242-246)

Although the jewelor’s unreasoning possessiveness is not uner the madness that
obscured the right relation for Gower’s Crying Voice, Chance explains that the jewelor’s
diﬁculty is pride. “This pride, a form of madness, the poet seems to be saying involves a
loss of reason and is expressed by selﬁshness” (Blanch 41). This is precisely the point that
the pearl-maiden makes when she rebukes the dreamer, emphasizing his madness over a

gem that was never truly his and pointing out the un-rightness indicated by that madness.

Bot, jueler gente, if bou schal lose
by joy for a gamma bat be wat; lef,

Me bynk be put in a mad porposo,

78
And busye; be aboute a raysoun bref,
For bat bou loste; wat; bot a rose,
hat ﬂowrod and fayled as kynde hyt gef.
Now burg kynde of be kyste bat hyt con close,

To a porle of prys hit is put in prof. (265-272)

When the narrator protests, attempting to excuse himself, the maiden will have none of it

and points again to the damage done by such unreason to the right relation.

I halde bat jueler lyttel to prayse,

bat loue; wol bat ha 563 wyth y3e,

And much to blame and uncortoyse,
bat leueg oura Lorde wold make a ly3e,
bat lolly hy3to your lyf to rayse,

Pa; fortune dyd your ﬂesch to dye.

3e setten hys worde; ful west emays,

bat loue; nobynk bot 3e hit sy3e. (301-308)

Bishop’s comments on the Peal-poet’s thema, the parable of the pearl of great price

found in Matt 13:45-46, are germane here. He explains that,

The parable makes the points that the pearl [representing the kingdom of
heaven] is unique and that it is supreme: it is the one object of supreme

value, to obtain which the merchant is content to sacriﬁce all his

79
possessions; it has monopolized his desires. Translated into philosophical
or theological terms, what the parable exempliﬁes is the principle of the
summum bonum. This is also the primary signiﬁcation of the image of the
pearl in the poem. But besides representing the concept itself, the pearl is
applied to beings who participate in the Sovereign Good and in whom it is
reﬂected, as well as to objects that are associated with it, that betokon it or
proclaim it. This signiﬁcation indicates the nature of the relationship

between the various objects to which the poet applies the image. (93)

The narrator’s erroneous presumption of ownership, originating in unreasoning pride,
caused his grief and his un-right spiritual relation. The narrator’s pride of possession, in a
Pearl that did not truly belong to him but to God, ignored the maxim that the exchange not
A the gift is the true purpose of gift-giving. Thus the narrator prevented his own right
relation with God. As a result, the narrator lost faith and succumbed to the obsession with
sensory relations that plagues him throughout the poem.

The maiden warns the droarner that unless he listens to counsel other than his own
he may never be able to establish a right relation with God. “Er moste bou ceuer to ober
counsayl” (319). Still the dreamer protests against her advice upon the grounds that as a
child she is not ﬁt or capable, not worthy, of providing the wisdom she professes he needs.
This issue of worthiness is central to the poem. Frances Fast notes that “the central
condition of the poem is the ironic inferiority of a father to his very young daughter. The

words of authority come ﬁ'om her mouth” not ﬁ'om the dreamer’s (373). The maiden,

80
prompted by the narrator’s questions about her circumstances, tries a straightforward

explanation of the right relation between man and God.

Maysterful mod and hyge pryde,

I hate be, are haterly hated here.

My Lorde no loue; not for to chyde,

For make aren alle batwone3 hym nere;

And when in hys place bou schal apere,

Be dep denote, in hol mokenesse.

My Lorde be Lamb loue3 ay such chore,

bat is be grounde of alle my blysse. . . .

Bot my Lorde be Lombe, burg hys Godhoda,
He toke myself to hys maryago,

Corounde me queue in blysse to brode. (401-408, 413-415)

The doctrine of submission is clearly in operation here; the submissive or meek one
u becomes sovereign or queen. As straightforward as the maiden’s explanation is, the
narrator takes her meanings almost too literally and questions the possibility that all who
submit could reign even if all were equally worthy which he doubts. “The narrator’s
tainted, earthly understanding of rank interferes with his understanding of an allegorical
rank” (Chance in Blanch 43).

Charlotte Gross deﬁnes the problem in general terms. “Although the idea of

equality within hierarchy is illogical and paradoxical, the notion that heavenly bliss is

8 l
multipled and thus equalized by love is indeed a commonplace in medieval descriptions of
heaven” (Blanch 87). The jeweler protests that the pearl-maiden presumes a position in
heaven of which she is unworthy because she died young and did not earn her heavenly
reward. By couching the narrator’s protest in such terms at this point in the poem, the
poet limits the debate to two indicators of worthiness: 1) the manner of service given to
the lord and 2) the quantity of the reward for that service. These two indicators of
worthiness are distinguished most clearly in the parable of the vineyard adapted ﬁ'om
Matt. 20: 1-16. “In her interpretation of the parable of the labourers in the vineyard the
maiden seeks to justify to the dreamer the reward that she has received in Heaven”
(Bishop 42).

From the ﬁrst instance of hiring men, both the manner of service and the quantity
of reward are identiﬁed as the media through which the lord and the laborers negotiate
their relation. The service that the lord of the parable seeks to have completed is
described as “labor”; no speciﬁc tasks such as picking or pruning are speciﬁed. Those
tasks are presumed to be at the direction of the lord to whom the workers must submit
themselves in order to be given their penny. For the poet to be more speciﬁc about the
exact tasks rather than the manner of tasks would be to take attention away ﬁ'om on-going
acts of submission and place focus on isolated actions that in regard to right relations are
not relevant. The poet does focus on the manner of the tasks given to the workmen.
“Wrythen and worchon and don grot pyne, Kerven and caggon and man hit clos” (511-12).
This labor, in its dimculty, servility and painfulness, resembles closely the labor of

suﬂ‘ering done by the Griselda, the Crying Voice, Julian’s servant, and other similar

82
literary ﬁgures. The similarity is unmistakable and not accidental, for such labor is a
hallmark of Christian spiritual feeling about what constitutes a sincere imitation of Christ.
The parable makes clear that the sincerity of or willingness to do the work of suﬂ’oring
rather than the type or quantity of labor is the essential medium for expressing a right
relation with God. The parable “illustrates the rewards of grace in exchange for spiritual
diligence. Every laborer, whether he began work at the ﬁrst hour or at the eleventh, will
receive a penny as his wage. Like the rewards of heaven, the wages for labor are equal for
all who work” (Johnson, Voice 185).

Even stronger than the message about the rewards for the labor of suﬂ‘ering is the
parable’s example of the consequences of dispute between lord and servant. “In fact, by
quarreling over heaven’s equality, we run the risk of focusing, like the narrator, on the
equity of the workmen’s wages rather than on the parable’s message. The maiden uses
the parable to illustrate the necessity for spiritual labor [of any kind] because man must
work in order to deserve the ‘peny’” (Johnson, Voice 186). When the workers ﬁrst hired
protest the equality of wages given to all the workers, the protest is couched in terms of

quantity.

And benno be fyrst bygonne to pleny
And saydon bat bay hade trauayled sore:
‘boso bot on 0qu hem con streny;

Vus bynk vus 03e to take more.

‘More hafwo served, vus bynk so,

83
Pat suﬂ’rod ban the daye; hate,
Penn byso bat wr03t not houre; two,

And bou dot; hem vus to counterfete.’ (549-56)

No difference is described in the manner or type of labor done by the ﬁrst, second and
third groups of laborers hired; only the quantity of labor varies. The lord’s responses to
the protests over payment by the workmen ﬁrst hired invokes the concept of ‘accorde’ in

the sense of a powerﬁll, binding agreement or covenant as well as the ﬂea identity of wills.

‘F rendo, no waning I wyl be gate;
Take bat is byn owne, and go.

And I hyred be for a pony, agrote,
Quy bygynne3 bou now to brete?
Watg not a pone by couenaunt bore?
Fyrro ben couenaundo is 1103t to plate.
Wy schalte bou, benne, ask more?
‘More, webor, louyly is me my gyﬁe,
To do wyth my quatso ma lykeg?

Other 61163 byn ya to lyber is lyfte

For I am goudo and non byswykeg?’ (558-568)

The ﬁrst point of the lord’s response stresses the power of his agreement with the

workmen. The inviolability of the terms of the agreement has similarities to the

84
commitment inherent in the act of homage based on the doctrine of submission. The lord
points out that he will make the agreed upon provisions, “a pane on a day,” for his
workers (510). The agreement between the lord and the workmen hired second is for a
reasonable wage and illustrates the power of the lord to determine satisfactory provisions
for his servants needs as well as the power to make available those provisions. “So sayde
be lorde, and made hit t03t. / ‘What rosonabolo hyre be 1183! be runne / I yow pay in dado
and th03te’” (522-524).

The power of the lord to determine a reasonable wage is not only his prerogative
but also his responsibility. His part of the doctrine of submission in establishing a right
relation is to provide for the needs of his laborers. The medieval understanding of “paye”
is signiﬁcant here, as Jill Mann explains. “The word has two main branches of meaning: in
the fourteenth century, as now, it meant ‘payment’ in the monetary sense, but there still
survived also its older meaning of ‘satisfaction”’ (24). The separation of these two senses
of “paye” results in dispute, for the workers ﬁrst hired, like the dreamer, can see only the
more modern of the two meanings, while the lord, like the maiden, comprehends both.
This understanding is most clearly illustrated “in the maiden’s [later] statement that
everyone is ‘payed inlyche’ in the kingdom of heaven and makes it into a kind of pun: all
are equally ‘paid,’ because all are equally ‘satisﬁed’—that is, everyone has enough” (Mann
24). The motivation of the lord for paying each worker the same amount is based on the
qualities of ﬁiendship or love and generosity that demonstrate the right relation. Thus the
lord demonstrates the tightness of his relation with the workmen by dealing generously

and suﬁciently with all the workers.

85
Called to be rave: ‘Lede, pay be mayny
Gyf hem be hyre bat I ham owe,
And fyrre, bat non me may reprene,
Set hem alle vpon a rawe,
And gyf vch on inlycho a pony.
Bygyn at be lasto bat stande; lowo,

Tyl to be fyrste bat bou attony. ($42-48)

The signiﬁcance of “accorde” in the parable rests not only in the sense of
“accorde” as a contract but also in its sense as the ﬂea identity of wills characteristic of the
right relation. This sense of “accorde” is demonstrated in the terms “frende” and
“meyne.”lo As has been demonstrated, the lord invokes the binding power of his
“accorda” against the protest that the agreement had been breached. “And bou dot; hem
vus to counterfete” (556). Nevertheless, his invocation of that power is ﬂamed in terms
of a right rolation’s ﬁiendship. These two characteristics of the right relation are strikingly

illustrated in Christ’s quoted commentary, “For mony ben calla, ba; fewe be mykeg,”

 

1°'I'heMl£Dgivesustheprimarydefinitionof“frlende”:“Afr-lend,acomrade,anintimate;oftononewho
supportsthesameeause(orﬁghtsonthesameside)asoneself,acomradeinarms,anally,aconfoderata.”
“Mayne” or “meine” is deﬁnedas“A household, household servantsandofﬁocrs”; a“bord, atableothcr
thanthehightable”andpossrblybyextensionthoscwhositatsaidtable,or“anaccompanyinggroup,
retinue;abodyorretainers;ofamayorzcivicoﬂicials;ofaking;hissubjects”(MED). Theconnotations
of“ofﬁciality”and“intimacy”inboththesedeﬁnitionsdrawattcntiontoboththedocuineofsubmission

andthe identity ofwills.

86
(5 72). The use of “mykeg” here for the biblical “chosen” ornphasizos the desirability of
being among the ﬁiends “mykag” of the lord. The maiden, in her telling of the parable of
the vineyard oﬁ‘ors the dreamer an altemativo to his obsessive, paralyzing and isolating
grief. She oﬂ‘ers “not a garden of loss, despair, and memory, but a garden of toil, activity,
community and ultimately of ﬁllﬁllment” (Johnson, Voice 187).

Like the parable, the rest of the poem describes, ill a variety of terms, the manner
of service enacted under the doctrine of submission, none of which name speciﬁc tasks.
The terms of service most ﬁequontly used by the jeweler—wo, wraghte, sore, wothes,
pensyﬂ payred, forpayned, dauger, serves, wrythe, werke, travaylo—appear very sparsely
in the vocabulary of the pearl-maiden and then usually in reference to God or Christ.
These terms all arnphasize the work of suﬁ‘ering and submission. The pearl-maiden’s
almost exclusive use of this vocabulary in reference to God and Christ emphasizes the
paradox of the doctrine of submission wherein submission leads to sovereignty. In the
exchange of service, the lord’s caring, like the labor of the servant is ongoing and does not
terminate as agreements and accords so often do.

A second set of terms connotes the manner of service that exists for the pearl-
maiden, again without identiﬁcation of speciﬁc tasks: mekeness, trwe, tryst, danger,
sydes, bond, accorde, meyny and servant. Although both jeweler and pearl-maiden use
these terms, by and large the maiden’s voice is the one most ﬁequently heard to use them.
The words in this list indicate an attitude of endurance expressed by the medieval concept
of “steadfastnoss” exempliﬁed by Griselda and Julian’s Lord, as already noted. In

addition, these descriptors about the manner of work convey the mutual respect and

87
acceptance of the participants in the doctrinal ideal of submission. Those attitudes of
respect and acceptance are largely absent from the vocabulary of the jeweler who regrets
the work of suﬂ‘ering at the same time that he insists On and quantiﬁes that most Christian
labor.

The vocabularies of Pearl and the jeweler represent concepts about the nature of
service in a right relation and deﬁned by the doctrine of submission that occur again and
again. “The Parable of the Vineyard and the pearl-maiden’s explanation of it illustrate the
balance between grace and works. She ends by telling the dreamer that work is a duty but
never suﬁcient, and only grace rewards the laborer after all” (Johnson, Voice 189).
Service is to be diﬁcult and sacriﬁcial as in hard labor, to be bound or obligated in some
fashion, to be porfonned without complaint in a spirit of ﬁiendlinoss and companionship,
all in imitation of Christ.

Given these concepts as the media of expression for one’s willing submission to
the power of God, then in accordance with the doctrine of submission, service will result
in sovereignty. Nowhere in Peal does either the narrator or the maiden imply that service
is to be porfonned without hope or expectation of reward. Indeed, reward for service to
God is assumed; just as reward is assumed in both secular and spiritual relations. What
Peal makes clear is that neither a speciﬁc type of labor nor a speciﬁc amount is suﬂicient
for a right relation without the laborer’s loving submission, of his own will to his lord’s.

As with the complex concepts of service, the ambiguities of Christian reward are
the focus of much of the debate between jeweler and pearl-maiden. The jeweler maintains

that “In Sauter is sayd a verce ouerte, / bat speke; apoynt datennynablo. / ‘I>ou quyteg vch

88
on as hys dossarte, / I>ou hy3e Kyng, ay portermynable” (593-596). The maiden counters,
“For bar is vch mon payed inlycho, / Whober lyttel obor much he hys rewardo; / For be
gentyl Cheuentayn is no chyche, / Quobersoeuer he dole nesch obor harde” (603-606).
This polarizes the positions into two camps that we could call un-right (jeweler) and right
(pearl-maiden). However, the distinctions of reward are not quite as simple as the
arguments of jeweler and pearl-maiden seem to make them.

The jewelor’s talk of proﬁt “dare adubement, tresor, mysso, and wole” is tied to
quantiﬁcations and obligations typical of a secular and proﬁt ﬂame of mind ([1, 15, 16,
17). Typifying this ﬂame of mind are two of the link-phrases that the jeweler speaks while
describing his sorrow before he encounters the pearl. The “dare adubbement” of stanza
group II stresses the value of exterior adornment. “More and more” from stanza group III
sounds the call of ever increasing concam with proﬁt. Mann perceives that “it is the

dreamer’s desire for ‘more’ that govenrs the development of the dream in Peal” (20).ll

 

”Mﬁeboginﬂngdthepommedmmkreprwomdmamddepnvaﬁombueﬁofmepwﬂm
washishighesttreasure;heisatthe“toolittle”endofthescale. Paradorrieally,howcvcr,thisﬁrstsection
ofmepmmsimdmnwuﬂyrcpmmmemﬁdopﬁwﬁonmlﬁeﬁnglasagoodmingmbe
“wythoutcnspot,”asthepearlis,istoenjoycompleteporfectiort Thatthepearliswithoutdefectmeans
thatthepotentialbeautyofitsformismcstﬁlllyrealized “Absolutedeprivationisinthisinstancca
oonditionofabsolutcperfection. 'I'hecontrastbetwecnthesctwokindsofdcprivationatthebeginningof
mepwmismmﬁmﬁonofmemoexuemes—humannccdheawmmlﬁnmem—thmmepmiswm
trytobringintorelation;itisaltoaninﬁmationthattheonemaybemysteriouslytransformcdintothe
other”(Mann20).

89
The jeweler’s preoccupation with ‘svele” and “tresor” is patent in his complaint to the
pearl-maiden.12 “My precios porle dot; me grot pyne. / What serves, trosor bot gareg men
grate / When he hit schal efto with tones tyne?” (330-32). The pearl-maiden is quick to
inform the jeweler that “For dyne of doel of hire; less / Ofte mony mon forges be mo”
(339-40). She urges him repeatedly to change his focus and his point of view, praising
God rather than lamenting a loss.

Yet the jeweler occasionally uses a term or two regarding reward not clearly in the
obligatory, quantiﬁed, un-right camp. One of those terms, to which he compares his
suﬂ‘ering and loss, is danger. The jeweler’s use of danger, while pejorative, carries a
connotation of power and implies awareness of right spiritual positions and relationships. ‘3
Similarly dame, while its most ﬁequont sense is that of say or call, retained, at the writing
of Peal, a sense of the judgment that was the lord’s prerogative, power, and
responsibility based on the secular adaptation of the imitatio Dei. The oﬂ’ect of danger
and deme in this context is to Show that the jeweler and the audience are not as ignorant of
the spiritual applications of the doctrine of submission and the resultant right relation as
they might at ﬁrst seam. The contrast between the terms perry and peal illustrates this

understanding most explicitly. “The image of the penny, tlrarefore, corresponds to the

 

12Thejeweler"sfocarsonmaterialtresorisallthcmoreironicwhonjuxtaposedwiththetresorof
submission and service givenby the servant in Julian’s parable.

13C. S. IowisdomonstratesinhisAppendixIIto lheAllegoryofLovetherelevanceofthetcrm
“daungcr,”asadcrivativeofdominairtm,tothesubjcctofrightrelationshipandthedoctrineof

submission

90
earthly notion that to share something of value involves splitting it and sharing it out in
quantiﬁable portions. Its replacement by the image of the pearl enables the reader to
understand that the kingdom of heaven is not a divisible good of this [the penny’ 3] sort—
that heavenly bliss can be given only in its entirety or not at all” (Mann 27).

In contrast to the jewolor’s largely un-right expressions, the pearl-maiden speaks a
language of service and reward that is almost exclusively light in nature. “The maiden has
no higher authority than the words of Christ and of Scripture, to which she constantly
refers. But the maiden not only quotes Christ’s words, she is the actual depiction of those
words. She is the child like whom the dreamer must become if he is to enter the Kingdom
of Heaven” (Fast 377). Using words such as bote and meyney in addition to many of the
same terms that the jeweler used, the pearl-maiden colors her discussion of rewards
differently than the jeweler; that is she speaks of equality and the discretion of the Lord,
rather than individual eanling power, appealing to that spiritual understanding of the right
relation in the audience demonstrated by the jeweler’s pejorative use of danger and demo.
Despite the use of language speciﬁcally from both right and un-right camps, the pearl-
maiderr, like the jeweler, occasionally uses terms not clearly or speciﬁcally attached to
either camp. She uses deme with equal frequency throughout but only uses danger once.
She speaks of the souls saved by Christ as “quen other king” but on the paradoxical,

sovereign and subordinate footing of the doctrine of submission.

The court of be kyndom of God alyuo

Has a property in hyt self beyng.

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Alla bat may bereinno aryue

Ofalle be remo is quen obor kyng,

And never obor yet schal depryvuo;

Bot vchon fayn of oberos hafyng,

And wolde her coroune; wem worbe bo fyua,
If possyble were her mendyng;

Bot my Lady, of quom Jesu con spryng,

Ho halde3 be empyra ouer vus ﬁll hyge;

And bat dyspleseg non of our gyng,

For ho is Quene of Cortaysy. (445-56)

While the narrator understands the ambiguous “quen of cortayse” to mean queen over
cortayso, the maiden, probably, means the phrase to be understood as queen by cortayse.
Manifestly, whether the author intended it or not, the eﬂ‘oct in Peal of the
paradoxes inherent in the doctrine of submission as represented by the concepts of reward
and service is to bridge the understanding of service and lordship. Just so, the jeweler’s
awakening in the same physical space upon his failure to cross the river to the holy city
bridges his understanding of reward and service. “In the opening stanzas the moumer is
discovered in a state of rebellious and despairing grief, but by the end of the poem he has
arrived at a state of resignation to the Divine Will and reached a mood of assurance and
hope” (Bishop 15-16). Early in his dream the narrator’s concept of reward was limited.
“As fortune fares, beras ho ﬁaynes, / Whober solas ho sende other alle; sore, / be wy; to

wham her wylle ho waynegl Hytte; to haue ay more and more”(129-132). By the end of

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the poem, the narrator’s concept of reward is vastly diﬂ‘oront. “He gef uus to be his homly

hyne / Ande precious perles unto his pay” (1211-1212). According to Bishop,

This statement is not just an ornamental periphrastic way of saying: ‘May
we all become inhabitants of the heavenly kingdom.’ It has a profounder
signiﬁcance that involves an element of almost mystical thought. The
Kingdom of Heaven or summum bonum cannot be obtained, in the way
that a material object can, by exercising the acquisitive impulse. Ifhe
would purchase it, a man must undergo a subjective transformation into
something that may be prized by God; cupiditas must give way to caritas.
In order to obtain the pearl it is, paradoxically, necessary to become one.
The author may be alluding to the text: ‘The Kingdom of God is within
you.’ At the same time the notion of becoming pearls ourselves alludes to

the restoration of the Divine image in man. (96)

Chaucer and Gower, poets who concam themselves largely with secular right
relations, each point to man’s right relation with God as the model for man’s light
relations with other men. The Peal-poet, like Julian, furthers the understanding of the
right relation between God and man by illustrating a variety of physical and spiritual
positions in progression from wrong to light relations, positions that either culminate in or
point toward the unity of man and God. The mounling jeweler remains in the same
physical space, the arbor greno, throughout the poem, so the change ﬁom wrong to right

relation comes about spiritually. Yet readers often ﬁnd the jeweler’s ﬁnal position in the

93
poem dissatisfying and ambivalent. Due to the jewelor’s own spiritual impatience, readers
and jeweler alike still suﬂ’er at the close of the poem, not ﬁ'om the loss ofthe pearl-
maiden, but from losing the visionary opportunity to dwell with God. The jeweler has the
wine and the wafer to bring the holy spirit within him, but he is, nonetheless, still in the
world, still progressing toward a right relation with God, still learning how to become

sovereign by means of submission.

CHAPTER III: DEGUILEVILLE AND LANGLAND

“WI-NmﬂetLl-toobuﬁlﬂhlw‘ (Nevin-m)

As the discussion of the right relation in Peal suggests, the distinction between
secular and spiritual is an artiﬁcial one. This distinction is diﬁcult to maintain, since
neither medieval literature in general nor the right relation in particular lends itselfeasily to
such division. In discussing Piers Plowmar, D. Vance Smith observes that in the medieval
sense “ Truth is the proper alignment of social [secular] and spiritual relations. These
relations should be so intimately connected with “truth” that they recall it; they are a

record of it” (134).1 Nonetheless, the separation of secular and spiritual has allowed us to

 

‘Wehaveseenelsewhere(andSmithhimsalfcallsattentionto)thcequationbetweenlightrelationand
“truth”. hmeMiddchgesmnhwasasmmhastamofbeingasthefacumlqmﬁtyofasmtemcnt The
OEDlistsasrareorarchaicthefollowingdeﬁnitionofW”usedbetween893and1860A.D. “The
qrralityofbeingtrudandalliedsenses). Thacharacterofbeingordispositiontobe,truetoaperson,
principle, cause, etc.; faithfulness, ﬁdelity, loyalty, constancy, steadfast allegiance.”

94

95
observe the right relation ﬁom two very speciﬁc perspectives with which the twentieth-

century reader, if not the medieval reader, is quite comfortable. However, if our goal is to
understand the concept of right relation as it was shared by late medieval authors, then
wemust examine late medieval works in which the twentieth-century separation of secular
and spiritual is less easily achieved, indeed works in which such a distinction is nearly
irnpossiblo without distortion of the works themselves. Such works include Guillaume do
Doguileville’s Pilgrimage of the Lyfe of the Marhode (Pilgrimage) and William
Langland’s Piers Plowman.

Both works describe the progression of the soul through the world toward right
relations with all humans and God. By means of ambiguities and paradoxes overlaid on
the allegorical framework of pilgrimage, each author conveys the union of secular and
spiritual relations that ultimately was necessary for the right relation to exist. This union
was aptly demonstrated in Julian’s deﬁnition of Christ as both man and God. “In the
servant is comprehendyd the seconda person of be trynyte, and in the saruannt is
comprehendyd Adam, that is to say all men (Julian of Norwich 532-533). However the
Pilgrimage and Piers Plowman attempt to illustrate the union of secular and spiritual
throughout the life of each human being, in a manner quite diﬂ‘orent from Julian of
Norwich’s vision. Rather than focusing on the exchange of labors and rewards, as Julian
does, these two works focus on the progress of the soul in the world, commenting upon
labor and reward as a portion of that progress. Relations of the primary characters in the

Pilgrimage and Piers Plowman progress from indirect to rect. Both works show the

96
secular and spiritual in disagreement at the beginning of man’s pilgrimage.2 Smith

translates Petrus Holias’s deﬁnition of the indirect relation in grammar, “Indirect relation,
indeed, is when a relative is unable to draw along with it the case to which it refers,”
although the relation of lord to servant involves more than the analogy with grammatical
case suggests (146-147). Both the Pilgrimage and Piers Plowman demonstrate the
diﬁculty of resolving the disagreement of secular and spiritual—restoring right relation—
in the setting of the world. Yet both works ardently support the desirability of achieving
the right relation, demonstrated in the union of secular and spiritual, as the ultimate goal of
all human lives.

The theme and the purpose of the Pilgrimage is to illustrate the relation of secular
and spiritual. Indeed, Rosernond Tuve comments, “The Pilgrim must assent to the radical
doublenoss of his will . . .” (170). That doublenoss, the secular and the spiritual in human
form, is the focus of this discussion of the Pilgrimage. Nowhere in the Pilgrimage is the
union of secular and spiritual more evident than in Book I. The dreamer ﬁrst observes the
spiritual Jerusalem “in a mirour” (3 .20). The mirror, like the Peal-dreamer’s river,
represents the degree of humanity’s separation ﬁom the desirable spiritual state. Yet the
very fact of observation and knowledge of the spiritual Jerusalem (no matter how
imperfect) implies a relation of some sort with God. Quite naturally, at the start of one’s

lifepilgrimage, the relation with God is not only indirect but perceivable only in the most

 

2Thisdisagreementisanalogoustothedisagrecmentincaseillustratedbytheindirectrelationofthe
grammatical metaphor. Both Deguileville (18.715-735) and Langland (C.III.332-373) used the

grammatical metaphor in their explanations of the right relation.

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material of terms. Thus, in Julian’s Book of Shewings, Peal, Pilgrimage, and Piers

Plowman the relation at the greatest remove ﬁ'om God is described in terms of material
goods.

Later in this vision of Jerusalem, the dreamer-pilgrim observes that some who
enter the city shed their clothing and replace it with the robes provided by the King (3.90-
94). The metaphor of shedding an old, secular life for a new spiritual life is a
commonplace, indicative of a change in the relation between man and God, and occurs
frequently in Book I. The dreamer’s observations inspire him, “berfore [to Jerusalem] to
go I meeved me, for bider I wolde be a pilgrime if I mighte alleswhere see as I motto”
(5.104-106).

Before the dreamer-pilgrim has truly started on his journey, he encounters Grace
Diou. She introduces herself as “douhter to be emprour bat is lord aboue alle oober”
(4.154-155). In this introduction, and by her very name, Grace Diou acknowledges her
status as a subordinate before she ever acknowledges that she has any kind of power. In
personifying this ﬁgure, Deguileville embodies not only the theological and spiritual
attributes of Grace Diou but also the doctrine of submission that requires service in order
to achieve sovereignty. Grace Diou has been sent speciﬁcally “into bis cuntre for to gate
him [God] freendos: nought for bat he hath needo, but for bat it were him riht leaf to haue

be aquayntaunce of alle folk and bat oonlicho for here owen proﬁte” (4.155-158).3 In this

 

3 TheMED citation for ‘aqueinta(u)noe’ is remarkably similar to its citation for “frende”. “Intimate
acquaintance or association; familiarity, intimacy, conpanionship, fellowship, friendship.” The restraint
thatcharacterizesthemodernformof“acquaintance” isdistinctlyabsent

98
manner, Deguileville lays the foundation for the identity of wills and the exchange of

service that light relation requires of its participants. Grace Diou even illustrates the
provision her lord has made by pointing out the raimont her Lord has given her and how
that attire helps her to serve him.

After introducing herself, Grace Diou describes her power and authority to the
dreamer, concluding her description with a subtle oﬂ‘er of friendship: “Now bou miht wite
withoute dredingo wheber myn aqueyntance be good. If bee like it, say it anoon, and let bi
speche no lengero be hyd” (5.197-199). The dreamer is convinced of the beneﬁt to be had
by associating with Grace Dion and bags for the acquaintance to continue: “Lady, I cry
yow mercy for be loue of God bat with yow yo wole aqueynte me and bat ye wole neuere
leuo me: bar is nothing so necessario to me to bat bat I haue to doone. And gretliche I
thanko yow bat goodliche ban come ﬁrst to me for my goode. I hadde of nouht elles
neode. Now ledath me where ya wole: I pray yow tarieth nouht” (5-6.200-206).
Although this conversation lacks the formality and the legality of an oath of homage, all
the elements are present: ﬁiendship; the exchange of services between the lord (Grace
Diou) and the subordinate (the dreamer’s newborn soul); and although implied, the desire
for the same goal. Each element is an essential part of the right relation that Deguileville,
like Julian and Langland, anticipates as the ending point for each man’s journey to union
with God.

At this point the dreamer is baptized and introduced to Reason who explains to the

dreamer the sacraments that he observes being carried out in Grace Dieu’s house by

99
Moses, her minister.4 The drearnor watches the ceremony of ordination into holy orders

in which Moses gives each man an unsheathed sword and a set of unbound keys. Upon
asking to receive the same sword and keys given to others in the house, the dreamer
becomes upset because he is given a sheathed sword and bound keys. The sheath and the
binding are placed upon the draarner-pilgrim’s gifts in order to prevent accidents due to
the drearnor-pilgrim’s limited ability to perform the functions associated with the sword
and keys.

Reason prefaces her explanation of the limitations placed on the droarner’s gifts
with an important passage about the predicamentum ad aliquid: “Pilko predicament hath
reward alleswhere ban to himself: he makoth his edifyinge upon ooberes ground wol
wisliche; al bat he hath, he hath of oobere, and yit dooth wrong to no wight. If oobere no
were, ber shulde nothing be of it, no [no] miht be” (18.715-719).s Smith cites Louis
Althusser when suggesting that “the fourteenth-century realist theory of relation ﬁmctions
as a ‘discourse that cannot be maintained except by reference to what is present as absence
in each moment of its [the discourse’ 3] order’” (quoted. in Smith 131). Prosuming that
the essence of relation Within discourse is “absent,” having only an ill-deﬁned “other” to
indicate its existence, the relation of the “one” to the “other” is an empty one. By

extension of the metaphor, Smith ﬁnds, in his discussion of Piers Plowman that “Relation

 

‘AvrilHenry’sarticleonthestructureofBoohofPLMoxplainsthesoquenceofthesacramentsin
detail. Soepages129-131.

5 Brackets indicate the editor’s emendations.

100
itself is an empty category . . .” (136). However, such a ﬁnding ignores the paradox of

reciprocation inherent in relation. Or, as Aristotle phrased it, “All relatives are spoken of
in relation to correlatives that reciprocate” (Categories 18). In addition, relation cannot
be “empty” merely by extension of the grammatical metaphor since the “other” of the
metaphor serves a purpose similar to the mirror of the droamor-pilgrim’s opening vision of
Jerusalem. The “other” allows us to conceptualize, albeit very imperfectly, that essence
from which the meaning of the “one” is removed. Relation then is not an empty category
but rather one of degree in which right relation is closest to identity or union and indirect
relation is at the farthest remove from union.

Reason continues her attempt to illustrate the concept of relation by describing

God both related and un-related to humanity.

Ensaumple I wole take bee so bat bou mowe see bat at eye, clearlich
vndirstande, and wol lame and withholde. Whan God had mad be world,
bifore bat man was foormed he was onlich cleped God (if Genesis no
gabbe). But whan man was foamed banne was God cleped Lord, in tokne
bat whan he hadde seruauntes he was lord and lordshipinge. Whan he
hadde seruauntes banne he was Lord, and yet he was neuere be grettere.

(18.721-725)

One cannot escape noticing that the meaning of God to each individual is multiplied by the
naming of a relation. In light of relation, God is no longer simply “God” but also “Lord.”
Understanding of God as Lord would be impossible in the absence of “servant.” The

Signiﬁcance here rests not only in the relation under discussion but also in the speciﬁcity of

1 0 1
terms like “lord” and “servant” as opposed to the vagueness of terms like “one” and

“other.” Relation may be perceived as empty as long as “other” is held to have meaning
only in regard to an absent “one,” since, without “one,” “other” has no meaning.
However, the same cannot be said of “servant,” for this particular “other” carries with it
more than more grammatical case. Indeed “servant” contains some portion of the meaning
of its correlative “lord.” The same is true of lord, that it contains some meaning of
servant. The speciﬁc analogy of lord and servant is needed to demonstrate the ﬁlllnoss of
the right relation that is too likely to be missed given only the grammatical metaphor’s
generic “one” and “other.”

Reason concludes her discussion of relation by explaining how relations between

individuals diﬂ‘er fi'om relations between humans and God.

But be lordes of bis cuntre bon not swich, as me thinketh, for be mo
seruauntes bei haue so micho bei make hem be grettere: Here seruauntes
and here meyne yiuen hem lordshipe. Lordship was knyt in subgis and
engendred, and if be subgis no were, lordshipes shulden perishen. I>at con
and bat oober Ad Aliquid may be said as me thinketh, for bat oon hath his
comyng out and his hanginge of bat oober: for whan bat oon is, bat oober

is also; and whan bat con faileth, bat oober faileth also. (18.726-735)

The diﬂ’eronce between the relation of humans and God and the relation of one person and
another emerges in the idea of degree, or as Reason’s words give it, “greater.” The
human and God relation oﬂ‘ers no increase to God, since being inﬁnite God cannot be

greater than he is. Both God and humans require servants in order to possess any degree

102
of lordship. But only individual persons, who are limited, can become greater than they

were as a result of having more servants. Nevertheless, the relation of lordship and
service is the same for both peOple and God, if “oon faileth, bat oober faileth also.” Here
then, in the midst of a late medieval English text, is the essence of Aristotle’s category of

relation.

On the other hand, if that in relation to which a thing is spoken of is not
properly given, then, when the other things are stripped off and that alone
is left to which it was given as related, it will not be spoken of in relation to
that. Supposeaslaveisgivanasofaman. . . and strip oﬂ‘ﬁommanhis
being a master, a slave will no longer be spoken of in relation to a man, for

if there is no master there is no slave either. (Categories 20)

However, Aristotle’s Categories did not deal with the tightness or un-rightness of
relation, merely the conditions necessary for relation to exist. Yet, the lightness of
relation was of primary concam to medieval authors and audiences in general and
Deguileville in particular. In commenting on another portion of the Pilgrimage’s Book 1,
Avril Henry observes, “The right relation between men and God is the very balance by
which the stability of the cosmos is ensured . . .” (141). .

Reason goes on to explain the signiﬁcance of the predicantum ad aliquid for the

dreamer and the gifts he received.

Now vnderstond wel bis lossoun bow [bat] art in subioctioun, bihold wel

bat bou art subiect to oober and bou hast no subioct. I>i souereyn,

103
whatouere he be, hath jursdiccioun, miht and lordship ouer bee. But 00

thing discoyveth bee: bou hast no subject as he hath; for berbi bou has
failed to haue be fairo sword vnhaled, naked and vnshebed—and of be

keyes also, to haue hem vnwounden and vnseled. (18.736-741)

Reason’s explanation of the predicantum ad aliquid seams to contradict the doctrine of
submission. Since the doctrine of submission requires that in order to wield authority a
man submit himself to authority, the implication is that submission confers authority. Yet
as Reason explains, the dreamer-pilgrim is not sovereign, has no authority, because he has
no subjects. Reason points out the drearnor-pilgrim’s position despite the fact that the
dreamer-pilgrim has submitted himself to the authority of God, Grace, Moses, and
Reason.

However, three factors qualify this apparent contradiction. First, the dreamer’s
dismay indicates an un-rightness in his submission to Grace Diou. Second, the dreamer is
still at the beginning of his journey toward right relation, and when his submission to God
is in a formative stage, he cannot be expected to have achieved the sovereignty of union
with God. Third, in the case of the relation between God and humanity, it is God who is
sovereign by his very nature. The dreamer will not become sovereign until his own right
relation completes the union with God toward which the dreamer progresses. The
concept of the drearnor-pilgrim’s subjectness is so important that Reason repeats herself,

with one tolling addition:

Ifbou haddest subioctes [also], as he bou mihtest do: bi miht were Ad

Aliquid; but bou has noone, as me thinkoth, whorforo bou shuldest not

104
abashe no wrathbe bee, bouh be sword betaken bee shebed, ne bouh bou

haue be keyes enseled, bounderl, and wrapped. (19.770-775)

The signiﬁcant addition here to Reason’s earlier comments about the dreamer-pilgrim’s
subjectness is the conditional statement that, “If bou haddost subioctes [also], as he [he
who has jurisdiction and lordship] bou mihtest do: bi miht were Ad Aliquid . . . .” In this
masterﬁrl play on “miht” as both possibility and power, Reason points out that while the
possibility of lordship is dependent upon having subjects, true power is derived ﬁ'om
relation to the other, ad aliquid, not in one’s self alone. As Reason stated earlier in her
Aristotelian paraphrase, one cannot exist without the other. Neither lord nor servant can
exist without its conelativo. The relation, not its participants or constituent parts, confers
authority or subservience, lordnoss or servantnass upon those participants. The
establishment of relation is dependent not upon one part or the other but upon interaction
based on the identity of wills and the doctrine of submission. And in the later Middle
Ages, the example of the Deity who submitted to the ﬂesh becomes the ultimate
enactrnont of right relation.

Accepting Raason’s explanation, the droarner next observes the sacrament of the
Eucharist in which the communal bread and wine are transubstantiated, becoming the ﬂesh
and blood of Christ. For the dreamer this transubstantiation is literally “a grot wunder, to
which bar is noon lich . . .” (19.282-283). The dreamer turns to Reason for an explanation
of this great wonder only to be disappointed. Reason cannot explain. She exclaims,

“Hooro lakketh me myn vnderstondinge and my wit al outerlicho . . . .” and that the whole

105
thing is “ayens nature and ayens vsage” (20.799-800, 806-807). In the face of her failure

to understand the transformation of broad and wine into ﬂesh and blood, Reason departs.
Nature than arrives on the scene to debate with Grace Diou about the lightness of
the Eucharistic transubstantiation. Thus, the secular (N aturo) and the spiritual (Grace
Diou) are again joined indirectly, in a way that resembles the state of the soul in the world
and its relation in the world to God. Hence, the debate reveals that the entire journey of
the soul through the world is geared toward the purpose of establishing a right relation
between human nature and the human spirit. The debate quickly centers itself not over the
Eucharist alone but over the relation between Nature and Grace Diou. Which of those two
personiﬁcations should have authority and to what degree? Grace Dion is accused by
Nature of overstepping the bounds of Grace Dieu’s authority and usurping the authority of
Nature. “Wonnos cometh it yow for to remove myne ordinaunces? It ouhte suﬁce [yow
ynowh] be party bat ye haue, withoute medlingo yow of myn, and withoute cleyrnyngc
maistrye borof’ (Deguilville 22.824-827). The impression is that Nature considers herself
Grace Dieu’s equal and that Nature ﬁnds her authority seriously challenged by Grace
Dieu’s actions. In defense of her belief Nature states what she perceives as the limits of

power for her realm and Grace Dieu’s.

Of be heuone ye haue be lordshipe, sterre turno and be planetes varian, and
be spoeres as ye wolen, laato or rathe, ye gouorne. . . . Bitwixe me and
yow was sotte a bounde bat divideth us so bat noon of us shulde mistake
ayens oober . . . . I am maistress of be elementes and of be wyndes: for to

make varyinges in fyr, in eyr, in eerbo, in see I late nothing stonde stille in

106
estaat. Al I make turne and drawe to ende. All make varye erliche and

late. I make newe thinges come and olde to departe. (20-21.827-830,

834-836, 842-847)

Nature’s concern over power in her initial question to Grace Dieu, “Whennes cometh it
yow for to remeve myne ordinaunce?” is in direct contrast to the example given by Grace
Dieu when she ﬁrst appeared. Grace Dieu’s introduction of herselfas “douhter to be
emprour bat is lord aboue alle oober” makes clear that whatever power she wielded was
hers to wield by virtue of her submission to the highest authority. While Nature does
submit to that authority, she does not explicitly do so in this passage, and evidence of her
submission is absent in her opening words. Indeed the authority that Nature ﬁnally
invokes in the passage given below is Reason, and Reason is conspicuously absent, having
denied any authority regarding the dispute between Nature and Grace Dieu. Nature and
Grace Dieu must rely on the validity of their own authority to resolve their conﬂict.
Nature’s description of her own lordship reveals her to be a surprisingly good

governor:

The eerbe is of my robes and in prime temps alwey I clobe it. To be trees I
yeue clobinge and appararnens ayens somer, and sithe I make dispoile hem
ayen ayens winter for to kerue hem oober robes and kootes seernynge alle
newe. . .. Iamnothastyﬁ andalmutaciounbatisdooninhastelhate.
And berfore is myn werchinge be more woorth: witnesse on Resoun be

wise. I slepe nouht, ne I am nouht ydel, ne I am not preciows to do alwey

107
mydeveeraftermywit and mypowere. . .. Iamladyandmaistressofal

togidere. (21.847—851, 854-857, 860-861)

These actions are the actions of an excellent and generous lord. Such a lord provides for
the needs of his servants, as Nature does by providing clothing. Nature perceives her
power as work and duty to be performed without doubt or equivocation. She operates
within the limits of her own power and even exercises that power in defense of her realm
when she feels that realm is threatened. Certainly her behavior as a lord appears to fall
within the ideal of the right relation, yet proper governance is only a portion of the right
relation.

Nature gives only passing thought to the identity of wills and barely does more
than imply her submission to an external authority, yet both are necessary to demonstrate
the validity of her lordship. In the passage just cited, Nature calls on the authority of
Reason to ‘intness” that Nature’s lordship is “not hastyf.” By her glancing submission to
Reason’s authority, Nature exempliﬁes the doctrine of submission; that is, Nature’s
lordship is right by virtue of her submission to reason. In addition, if we accept that for
Deguileville, like the canonists “natura, id est, Delis,” then Nature also complies with the
identity of wills.‘5 Nature’s claims to authority are by all criteria right and valid. Thus, the
conﬂict between Nature’s rule and Grace Dieu’s rule creates a very real relational

dilemma. Indeed, Nature’s grievance is directed at the possibility that she could be

 

‘GainesPostoommcntsonthismaxim,“IfGodcanbecallednarura,itisonlyawayofsayingthatGod

istheultimatesosurceofthelawsofnamre” (522).

1 08
considered subordinate to Grace Dieu. “But me thinketh euele [for] bat for a wenche ye

wolde holde me whan my wyn ye make bicome blood myn herte whan ye remeeven it
[bread] into quik ﬂesh, and nakenen me of my right” (21 .861-863, 867-869). Nature’s list
of grievances continues to include the burning bush, the water changed to wine, and the
virgin birth, all couched in terms that indicate Grace Dieu has violated Nature’s authority.
However, Grace Dieu points out that Nature has erred in presuming that the two
of them are equals and implies that the error has led Nature to excessive pride and anger.
In doing so Grace Dieu draws a picture of Nature similar to Gower’s rebellious peasantry
in Vox Clanrwrtis. “And drunken and wood ye semen wel, be be grete ire bat ye shewen”
(22899-901). Grace Dieu then asks rhetorically of Nature, “God saue yow, of whom
holde ye, and whennes cometh yow bat bat ye haue?” (22.913-914). She next points out

that,

I trowe ye knowe not me or elles ye deygne not to knowe me, for I am
debonaire, and am no chidere. Openeth a litel discretliche be eyen of youre
vnderstondinge, for if ye vndo wel be liddes, me for maistresse and yow for
chaumberere ye shule fynde al apertliche: and banne ye shule speke to me

soﬁeliche, and do to me homage of al bat ye holden of me. (23.919-925)

Grace Dieu’s insistence that she is mild-mannered and that in homage Nature will speak
gently is an indication of the identity of wills concurrent in the right relation. Ifthe
Aristotelian and Christian models of the late medieval right relation, discussed in previous

chapters, are accurate, anger and scolding have little place in the right relation. Clearly

109
then, Nature’s anger, in addition to her mistaken presumption about her status relative to

Grace Dieu, place Nature in an un-right relation.

Grace Dieu continues to express the ideal that should have existed between her
and Nature. “Sumtyme of my curteisye I took yow a gret partye of be world for to
ocupye yow with and to werche treweliche with so bat ye weren not ydel, and bat of al ye
[yolden] to me [trewe] acounte, as charnberere shulde alwey do to hire maistresse” I
(23.925-929). These lines recall the point reiterated twice by Reason that those without
subjects can participate neither in the power nor the potential of right relations. Grace

Dieu’s remarks add to those of Reason by pointing out that in a right relation Nature, or

 

any lord, is not merely lord but lord by virtue of being subject.
When Nature persists in her complaints, Grace Dieu clinches her argument. Grace
Dieu invokes the feudal concept of gilt-giving as that which signiﬁes relation and enriches

both giver and receiver by the act of giving.

And yowre argument, litel is woorth also youre murmur; and also a gret
[ﬁlthe] me thinketh whan ye gon bus grucchinge of my yiﬂes and spekinge
and murrnuringe, for I shulde be euele serued if I mihte not yive of myn
owen as wel to oobere as to yow. It is not matere of wratthe; it shulde not
hevy yow of nothing: for it is not good bat be good go alwey on 00 side,
bat wite ye wel. It ougte suﬁce yow ynowh, be miht bat ye holden of me,
which is so fair bat neuere king mihte haue noon swich, neiber for siluer ne

oober avoir. (261056-1067)

1 10
Further, the last point made by Grace Dieu, “Ifl yive any special yifte to myne omcalles,

I looke bat of nothng ye leese . . . ,” illustrates the limitless quality of the right relation.
All others who serve Grace Dieu are included in the ad aliquid relation, demonstrating
emphatically the fullness of the right relation (26. 1067-1069).

As the debate ends, Nature is contrite, “I pray yow [bat] on me ye haue merci. . . .
Ye ben my maistress, I se it wel: ouer alle I ouhte obeye to yow. Of nothing it should
displese me of thing bat ye wol doo. I thinke neuere to speke but bat ye wolen at bis time
foryive me all benigneliche, withoute witholdinge any yuel will” (26.1072, 1074-1079).
\Vrth Grace Dieu forgiving Nature, the debate concludes and the right relation is restored
between them.

The comparison of Reason’s discourse on the ad aliquid with the debate between
Nature and Grace Dieu is an important one, for it demonstrates the diﬂ‘erence between
right and indirect relations. The indirect relation, in which the dreamer-pilgrim ﬁnds
himselfas the poem opens, is characterized by the absence of qualities present in the right
relation. In this type of relation power operates in only one direction. The dreamer-
pilgrim is subject but not lord. He is at the farthest remove ﬁ'om his lord, lacking both the
identity of wills and the doctrine of submission. And whether ﬁ'om inability—as is the
case in Pilgrimage—or lack of desire, he cannot labor appropriately for his lord. The
right relation demonstrated by Grace Dieu in her debate with Nature is characterized by
power that operates in several directions and is increased thereby. All participants in the
relation are both subject and lord in some respect that usually deﬁnes the degree of
relation from un-right to right. Both as lords and as subjects, all who participate in right

relations operate under the doctrine of submission characterized by the identity of wills

1 1 1
that cements the union of all concerned. In Pilgrimage Deguileville demonstrates the

union of secular and spiritual allegorically in the personiﬁcation of Nature and Grace Dieu
and in the dreamer-pilgrim’s desire to come to the spiritual Jerusalem despite his imperfect

worldly understanding of the spirit.

Although Chaucer, Gower, Julian of Norwich, the Peal-Poet, and Deguileville all
exemplify the right relation in their works, only Langland oﬂ‘ers an explicit deﬁnition. As
we saw earlier, the right relation “‘is record of treuthe . . . . Ac relacoun rect is a ryhtﬁrl
custume . . . .”’ and ultimately, the right relation is “vnite acordaunde” (Piers Plowman
343, 374, 394). In these essential deﬁnitions, Langland exhibits the same principles
concerning the right relation and the unity of secular and spiritual that Deguileville
illustrates in Pilgrimage. And the lord and servant relations of Piers Plowman provide
extensive demonstration of those principles.

Langland’s treatment of the right relation is diﬂirsed throughout three versions of
Piers Plowman, and this poem, like Pilgrimage, is presented as a pilgrimage or quest.
Mary Carruthers characterizes Piers Plowman speciﬁcally as the search for St. Truth.
Truth had many faces in late medieval England. Justice, law, leute, mercy, reason, and
right are just some of the facets of truth that readers have suggested are the goal of
pilgrimage in Piers Plowman. The search for Truth in Piers Plowman is also expressed as
the quest for the “relacoun rect,” the right relation of master and man, lord and servant.

This phrase “relacoun rect” appears only in the C version—four times between C.III.332-

1 12
373 .7 Yet ﬁ'om the number and variety of masters and servants whose relations are

distinctly problematic and un-right throughout all three versions of Piers Plowman, one
cannot doubt the importance of this concept in Langland's thought. Such problems
between master and servant are rarely resolved unless the relacoun rect is found, and even
then the resolution may be temporary. In the right relation each man knows his place—his
vocation and degree—and performs his work in appropriate relation to others. This is the
aspect of right relation that John of Salisbury refers to as the identity of wills, and requires
that all men—even kings—acknowledge and submit to that which has mastery over them,
be it another man, the needs of the body and soul, or an abstraction like truth or right.
The importance of submission within the right relation suggests a purpose, beyond
tradition, for Langland’s choice of a plowman as the major character in the search for the
right relation.

Piers enters Langland’s poem “as a labourer in the service of Truth whose ‘hire’ is
promptly paid by his master” (Stokes 128). Indeed, the narrative voice of Long
Will presents himself, initially, as a follower or servant, not as a leader or lord. “Y shope
me into shroudes as y a shep were; / In abite as and heremite, vnholy of werkes” (C.Prol.
2-3). Some lines later in the “feeld ful of folk,” the opening tension of the poem is
revealed in the juxtaposition of laborers who work, that is, who serve appropriately, and

those who do not.

 

’See Baldwin pages 18-10, and especially 53-55.

113

Some potte hem to be plogh, playde ﬁll selde,
In settynge and in sowynge swonken ﬁll harde
And wonne bat bis wastors with glotony destrueth.

And summe putte hem to pruyde, and parayled hem ber-aﬁir.
(C.Prol. 22-25)

The emphasis here, in the beginning of the poem and throughout, is not on authority and
power but on submission and service. Where Langland does address issues of authority,
mastery and power—and he addresses these issues ﬁ'equently—he usually does so in
reference to the purpose that power serves, in other words, to the service that power
provides and the needs to which power must submit itself. The dialogue between
submission and authority is prevalent throughout medieval literature, reaching a dramatic
turning point in the fourteenth century where the forms of governing and social
organization were changing from feudal to market driven. And Langland’s poem deals
with the relation of master and servant—authority and submission—in all its varied
complexity. While the entire poem concerns issues of mastery and service in all aspects of
life, it is in the opening vision of his poem that Langland deals most speciﬁcally with issues
of secular submission and authority, represented in the legal and feudal hierarchies. The
dialogue centers on a few much studied incidents.

One of Langland’s most famous investigations of light secular governmental
relations is the fable of tyrannically governed rats (C.Prol. 165-216). The rats of the fable,

aside from literally being some of the lowest creatures in the medieval hierarchy, represent

 

l 14
the commons at the very least and all the king's legal subjects at the very most. As

implied in an earlier chapter, the king’s authority was challenged frequently in the
fourteenth century. Although Langland’s allegory could be identiﬁed with any number of
speciﬁc political incidents, the allegorized principles are of primary concern here. The
contrast between the allegorized governmental policies voiced by the rats and those
policies attributed to the cat seems to represent opposite ends of the governmental '5'
spectrum. What the text reveals is that the policies of the two parties are more similar
than not. The cat’s tyranny is willful, abusive, and completely thoughtless of the needs or 4

will of the mice. “For a eat of a court cam whan hym likede / And ouerlep hem lightliche

 

and laghte hem alle at wille. / And playde with some perilously and potte hem ber hym
lykede” (C. Prol. 168-170). Such tyranny is contrary to John of Salisbury’s assertion that
a just and good ruler “is obedient to law, and rules his people by a will that places itself at
their service” (28). In the case of the kingly cat, the rats live in fear for their lives should
the tyrant's displeasure be provoked. The rats’ survival exists completely at the will of the
cat.

Naturally, the rats wish to oppose this common threat to life and limb, but their
desires do not stop at neutralizing the danger. They believe that “Myghte we with eny wyt
his wille withsitte / We myhte be lordes a-loﬁe and lyue as vs luste” (C.Prol. 174-175).
Nothing in the discussion held by the rats indicates that they would happily serve the eat if
he were less willful and abusive. The rats’ only stated desire is to be lords in the same
mold as the cat; willful, abusive, and thoughtless. Anna Baldwin, in her discussion of the
C-text, ﬁnds it “impossible to feel much sympathy for the pretensions of creatures who are

still clearly vermin” and points out that while “The rats’ attempt to bell the cat may seem

1 1 5
at ﬁrst sight to represent Parliament's attempt to control a cruel tyrant ‘for . . . comune

profyt” . . . . all they really want is to be ‘lordes a-loﬁe’ themselves” (17). The rats
essentially propose nothing but the exchange of a known tyrant's will for another will of
questionable nature, rather than the identity of wills that characterizes right governmental
relations.

Critical perspectives and interpretations of the rat fable vary greatly. Myra Stokes F
says, “The rats and mice fail [to bell the cat]—but it is just as well they do, for without
authority nature reverts to the anarchy of uncontrolled self-seeking” (74). Baldwin states, _i.

“If belling the cat is tantamount to bribing the executive or the judicature with fees and

 

liveries, then the wiser mouse is obviously right to prefer his cat unbelled. However
tyrannical the authority which executes the laws, it is better than one which has so lost its
independence as to be no authority at all” (17-18). A V. C. Schmidt writes, “The Rat
Fable does not disrupt the vision of society, since its concern is not merely topical politics
but the perennial issue of power in society and the need for a central authority to maintain
social order” (xxv). Whatever the differences in perspective, most critics concur with
Stokes’s view that Langland’s moral “is that any law, any authority, however vicious its
representatives, is better than none. The human will requires government and rule; it
cannot rule itself, for self-interest is too strong” (74-75).

Another set of events in which Langland focuses the search for the right relation
centers upon Meed, whose presence overwhelms passus 11 through IV. Eight of the
opening lines in passus II are dedicated to the description of a female ﬁgure whose
outward splendor is powerful in detail. The ﬁgure is “Mede be mayde.” Holy Church

identiﬁes “Mede” as the woman who “hath niyed me ful ofte / And ylow on my lemman

 

 

 

 

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l 16
bat Leute is hoten / And lakketh hym to lordes bat lawes ban to kepe” (C.II.19-21). The

juxtaposition of Meed and Leute draws attention to the often diﬁcult interactions between
these two personiﬁed concepts, that, ideally, should serve Holy Church. Too often, in a
market economy, the desire for reward undercuts loyalty between master and man. And
this is precisely what happens when Meed, by seeking out other lords, belittles the loyalty
owed the church. =-
Further on, Holy Church points out with some asperity that, in spite of Meed's
rejection by Truth and her kinship associations with F alseness and liars, Meed is as

privileged in the ecclesiastical courts as Holy Church herself.

 

In be popes palays she is pryue as mysulue,

Ac soothnesse wolde nat so for she is a bastard.

Oon Fauel was her fader bat hath a fykel tonge

And selde soth sayth bote yf he souche gyle,

And Mede is manered aftur hym, as men of kynde carpeth:

T alis pater, talisﬁlia. (C.II.23 -27)

That Holy Church feels that Meed, in a relation distinctly un-right, is privileged beyond
her degree is clear when Holy Church invokes the medieval hierarchy of heredity that
subordinates the illegitimate child to the legitimate child. “Y ouhte ben herrore then she, y
com of a bettere; / The fader bat me forth brouhteﬁlius dei he hoteth, / That neuere lyede
ac laughede in al his lyf-tyme, / And y am his dere daughter, ducchess of heuene”

(01130-33).

1 17
Setting aside Holy Church's indignation at this subverting of the hereditary

hierarchy to her own disadvantage, the parallels between Meed and Holy Church are too
disquieting to ignore. Not only are both privileged in the Papal palace, but also both are
powerful female ﬁgures, from powerful allegorized ancestries. Both are destined, at this
point in Langland's tale, to many potentially powerﬁrl male ﬁgures who share traits with
the authoritative patriarchal ancestry of the respective brides. Holy Church herself is not
above a few belittling—if true—comments at Meed's expense. These similarities are only
some of the disquieting factors in the forty-three lines of Holy Church's speech (C.II.19-
52). Most disturbing in these lines is the emphasis on traits of power, rule, and authority
to the near exclusion of the traits of submission and service requisite to allow any power
complex to function rightly. In this Holy Church mirrors Deguileville’s Nature and late
medieval society where time after time the doctrine of submission came into conﬂict with
the proﬁt motive, creating either indirect or un-right relations.

Signiﬁcantly the few allusions to submission and service that Holy Church does
makeinthispassage are associatedwithwarnings and rifewiththeparadoxso
characteristic of the doctrine of submission. Of the impending marriages, Holy Church
makes the following comparison: “That what man me louyeth and my wille foleweth/
Shal haue grace to good ynow and a good ende, / And what man Mede loueth, my lyfy
dar wedde, / He shal lese for here loue a lippe of trewe chalite” (C.II.34-3 7). Here the
warning is clear. The lines state that the man whose loyalty is to Meed becomes nothing
and loses all charity, and that is the love of God that the servant of Holy Church gains in

heaven. The comparison illustrates in miniature the problem seen earlier in the rat fable,

1 18
inherent in the emphasis on power in Holy Church's speech, and implicit in the concept of

right relation; that mastery is impossible in the absence of service.

Holy Church closes this speech with a caveat to the dreamer-narrator, “And
acombre thow neuere thy consience for coueityse of mede” (C.II. 52). Clearly Holy
Church warns that one's conscience could lose authority, even become subject to
“coueityse.” Just as clearly the burden of reward in the form of obligation and submission
is present in Holy Church's conclusion as it is elsewhere in her speech and throughout
Langland’s poem. However, in the lines given to Holy Church, the reader must labor long
and hard to discover the doctrine of submission within the overwhelming emphasis on the
complexes of power. The balance of lordship and service thus far in the poem is dis-
satisfying, and Langland continues to examine the relations of lords and servants in his
search for the right relation.

The wedding of Meed and False continues the allegorical search for the right
relation by describing the retinue who accompany False to the wedding. The list is so long
and the numbers of retainers so great that the narrator “kan nou3th rykene be route bat ran
aboute Merle” (C.II.62).8 However, the particular attention Langland pays to Simony and
Civil illustrates their sly, unbuxom behavior, in their machinations to manipulate Meed.
From the start, these two subvert the feudal ideal of the submissive vassal who obeys his

lord purely for the love that makes the will of lord and servant identical. Instead, Simony

 

8The allusiontothc route ofratons islmmisrakable.

1 19
and Civil perform their feudal duty to False and Meed, acting as witnesses to the

wedding, for silver alone.

The wedding is interrupted by Liar, who reads a charter granted by Guile that
enfeoﬂ‘s to Meed and F als a number of lordships, from the Prince in Pride to the Lordship
of Leccherie, including two Earldoms, a County and various other properties and
privileges among which is a dwelling with the devil. The assignment of each feoﬂ‘ is ‘4'
accompanied by a description of the duties and responsibilities attendant thereon. In
exchange, the charter states that Pals and Meed “Aﬁer here deth bay dwellen day

withouten ende / In lordschip with Lucifer, as this lettre sheweth, / With alle be

 

ll

appurtiriaunces of purgatorye and be peyne of belle” (C.II.106-8). Thus, Pals and Meed,
despite the great rout they command, are themselves vassals to Guile.

Without regard to the content of the charter, its form is a textbook example of
charters of enfeoﬁ‘ment granted throughout England in the Middle Ages. The exchange is
a typically feudal one in which goods—in the form of property—and services are granted
for allegiance and provision. The doctrine of submission would be well and truly
expressed and all relations right in this exchange were it not for the services promised in
the charter and the principals involved. One cannot imagine Fals, Liar, and Guile holding
to their word, given in the terms of the charter, any more than one can easily sympathize
with vermin who are being tyrannized by a cat. The very natures of the principals,
expressed in their names, and the sin and double-dealing for which the charter makes them
responsible, are antithetical to the fulﬁllment of the so-called promises made. Langland

has once again reached the seemingly irresolvable impasse of paradox, and redirects the

120
exploration of the doctrine of submission by means of Theology’s interruption (C.I[.116-

154)

Up to this point in the wedding events Langland’s use of master and servant
relationships as representations of the doctrine of submission has been relatively
straightforward, especially in regard to Meed. Her birth, degree, retainers, lord, and
overlord are all clearly designated, as are the responsibilities of service and authority due
to and ﬁ'om each. IfMeed's compliance with the charter of enfeoﬁnent and her
association with Liar, Guile, Fals and his retinue appear to conﬁrm the assessment of
Meed's character given by Holy Church, Theology comes along and muddies the waters
considerably. He admonishes Civil that the wedding of Meed and Fals may be illegal,
since Meed is “mulier,” that is, an honest woman.9 Meed's status as mulier, or legitimate
oﬂ‘spring, contradicts Holy Church's earlier assertion that Meed is illegitimate. The

contradicting genealogies, Smith says,

make the meaning of meed less ﬁxed. The genealogies do suggest,
however, that meed’s history is an important aspect of its meaning: what
the two genealogies have in common is an interest in tracing meed to
particular historical, and usually institutional, roots. . . . The meaning of
meed is determined by the circumstances under which the giving and

receiving of meed begins. When meed is preceded by guile, it does become

 

9’I'hellJli‘Dgives“Wedloclr”and“legitimate, borninwcdlock;a150apersonborninwedlock”asthe

meaning of “mulier” .

 

122
Although the action of persuasion is clear from the use of “mery tonge” to accomplish

the goal, the use 0 “amaistried” indicates a clear subversion of the feudal hierarchy or
right relations supposedly in operation here. Civil and Simony are vassals of Fals, who is
variously Meed's social equal or far below Meed in the social hierarchy. The latter case is
the basis for Theology's assertion that a marriage between Fals and Meed would be illegal.
In either case Civil and Simony are neither Meed’s equals nor her superiors, and by virtue
of their subordinate position, may offer counsel to a social superior, but may not with light
manipulate the actions of that superior without undermining both the hierarchy and the
doctrine of submission upon which it rests.

The consequences of the hierarchical inversion represented in the overmastery of
Meed are observable in the preparations for the procession to London. The feudal
services that various civil authorities provide in carrying forward the cause of Meed and
Fals transform those authorities into beasts of burden. Once again, Langland's pursuit of
the right relation demonstrates the high cost of coveting Meed not only in the heaviness of
the burden, but in the loss of humanity visited upon those who try to master Meed and
instead become subject to her. The actions of subordinates such as Civil and Simony,
without question, do not promote the right relation, and the action of Langland's tale
moves on to the king's court in London where the relation of Meed in society is debated at
great length.

While a large portion of passus III concerns the debate between Meed and
Conscience over the place and purpose of Meed in society, a few short passages can be
taken as representative of their respective opinions on the topic. Meed's opinion is clearly

stated in eleven lines.

121
an avaricious force that disrupts social order. And unless meed is

preceded by a willingness to honor bonds that have already been

established, it rapidly gives rise to guile. (Smith 131-132)

The confusion over Meed's ancestry is never really cleared up. But Theology's assertion is
suﬁcient cause to stop the wedding, particularly after Theology points out to Civil and
Simony that the consequences to them, as witnesses of an illegal marriage, could be
severe.

By manipulating Meed, in a distinctly un-right inversion of the doctrine of
submission, Civil and Simony have placed themselves in an untenable position. They owe
allegiance not only to Meed and Fals, but also to the king who would frown upon an
illegal marriage. If they are to save their own skins, Civil and Simony must renege on the
promised service to their immediate feudal lord, Fals, in deference to the service owed
their mutual overlord. What is astonishing is not the behavior of Civil and Simony, but the
fact that neither Meed nor F als seeks retribution for the broken promise or return of the
silver paid in advance to Civil and Simony for an action that the two never perform.

The deceit of Civil and Simony can be measured by the juxtaposition of their
actions with those of F auel and Fals Witnesse, who succeed in halting the marriage and
persuading the bridal couple to proceed to London, without returning the money paid.

But Langland does not use terms such as persuade and convince Langland's words are at
once more colorﬁrl and more sinister. Civil and Simony, through the agency of Fauel and
False Witnesse, protect their own self interests by having “Mede amaystryed thorw oure

mery tonge” (C.II.167). Donaldson translates “amaistried” as overmastered (11.154).

123
Hit bycometh for a kyng bat shal kepe a reume

To 3eue men mede bat meekliche hym serueth,

To aliens and to alle men, to honoure hem with 3eﬁes;
Mede maketh hym be byloued and for a man yholde.
Emperours and Erles and alle manere lordes

Throw 3eftes haen 5emen to 3eme and to ryde.

The pope and alle prelates presentes vnderfongen

And 3euen mede to men to meyntene here lawes.
Seruantes for here seruyse mede they asken

And taken mede of here maistres as bei mowen acorde. . . .
Is no lede bat leueth bat he ne loueth mede.

(C.III.264-273, 281)

In this section, Meed has almost got the relation of lord and servant right. As has been
noted, feudal master-servant relations that modeled the right relation were enacted with
the exchange of goods and services, precisely as Meed describes them. Meed even has
both elements, lords and servants, in their proper secular order and has assigned them their
appropriate functions. She appears to make clear the beneﬁts of the doctrine of
submission to all masters and servants. However, Conscience counters that what Meed
describes is not reward but measurable hire—sirnple quid pro qua—and as measurable
hire, Meed’s description of right, in the sense of beneﬁt, is only halfthe equation, leaving

the relation of meed to society at large unresolved. We still do not know whether Meed is

 

124
master or servant or both and if both what her relation is to the rest of society in each of

these roles. Conscience attempts to clarify Meed's place in society.

Ac ther is mede and mercede, and bothe men demen

A desert for som doynge, derne ober elles.

Mede many tymes men geneth bifore be doynge

And bat is nother resoun ne ryhte ne in no rewme lawe
That eny man mede toke but he hit myhte deserue,

And for to vndertake to trauile for another

 

And wo neuer witterly where he lyue so longe

Ne haue hap to his hele mede to deserue.

Y halde hym ouer-hardy or elles nat trewe

That pre manibus is paied or his pay asketh.
Harlotes and hoores and also fals leches

They asken here huyre ar thei hit haue deserued,
And gylours gyuen byfore and goode men at be code
When be dede is ydo and be day endit;

And bat is no mede but a mercede, a manere dewe dette,
And but hit prestly be ypayed be payere is to blame,
It is a permutacion apertly, a penyworb for anober.
As by the book bat byt nobody with-halde

The huyre of his hewe ouer eue til amorwe:

Non morabitur opus mersenarii.

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And ther is resoun as a reue rewardynge treuth

That both the lord and the laborer be leely yserued. (C.III.290-309)

Conscience's words make clear the doubleness of reward, if not the exact nature of Meed.

And the argument between Meed and Conscience remains unresolved.

The argument is summarized in Proverbs 22:9 of which Meed notes the ﬁrst half.

‘Loo! what Salamon sayth,’ quod she, ‘in Sapiense, in be bible:
“That 3eueth 3eﬂes, taketh 3eme, the victorie a wynneth

And much worschipe therwith,” as holy write telleth:

 

Honorem adquiret qui dot muncra.‘ (C.III.483-486)

Just as Meed argued only part of the right relation—the necessity of meed with the
meaning of measurable hire—so Meed in summation cites only halfof the relevant text.
Pointing out the remaining portion of the text is left for Conscience, as he had previously

been left to point out meed’s doubleness.

So ho-so secheth Sapience fynde he shall foloweth

A ﬁll teneﬁll tyxst to hem bat taketh mede,

The which bat hatte, as y haue rad, and ober bat can rede,
Animam aufert accipiecium.

Worschipe a wynneth bat wol 3eue mede,

Ac he bat resceyueth here or recheth here is rescettour of gyle.

(C.III.493-497)

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Both Meed and Conscience base their argument on the doctrine of submission that

underlies right relations and directs that all men, regardless of degree, comply submissively
with the requirements of their designated tasks and the orders of their social superiors.
Under this deceptively simple doctrine even kings and popes have beings—the commons
and God—and principles—law and faith—to which they must submit themselves. But if
the relation is to be established and exist rightly then the beings and principles to which E“
secular rulers are subject must not be such as to burden the rulers or their subjects unduly.

And this is the point addressed by Conscience's rejection of Meed; as a guiding principle, 9:

 

Meed is simply too burdensome.

Despite Conscience's enlightening comments, the King, like many of Langland’s
readers, is overwhelmed by the argument and jangling of Meed and Conscience that has
continued for over 300 lines. Passus IV opens with the King’s attempt to resolve the
argument by ﬁat, ordering Conscience to kiss Meed. When this attempt fails, the king
sends for Reason, whose counsel in this matter the king promises to abide by. Since the
search for the right relation no longer focuses on Meed speciﬁcally, but on the principles
by which all men should be guided in their service, Langland's focus shifts ﬁom Meed
herself to the trial of Wrong, although Langland gives Meed much to say in this matter as
well.

Wrong is brought to trial on a bill of complaint made by Peace. The number and
severity of Wrong's offenses against Peace are extensive. In this, Wrong represents the
stereotype of the feudal lordless man, who owes no allegiance or service to any master and
is guided by a will lacking in identity with any other will. Unlike the cat of the prologue’s

rat fable, Wrong is not a tyrant, because Wrong has no legal claim to authority over or

127
service ﬁom Peace, whom he abuses unmerciﬁllly. Wrong, in fear of Conscience, pays

Wisdom for advice and submits himself to it. Following the advice he paid for, Wrong
gets Meed to go bail for him. Since Meed proposes to the court that she will make
amends for Wrong and guarantee his ﬁrture good behavior, a large portion of the king's
subjects—Peace included—cry to the king for mercy upon Wrong. The king does not
yield to the pleading of his subjects but acts on the promise he made at the opening of the
passus to be ruled by Reason. “Bute Resoun haue reuth on hym he shal reste in my
stokkes” (C.IV.103). Reason’s ruling is the same as the king’s, “‘Rede me nat,’ quod
Resoun, ‘no reuthe to haue’” (C.IV. 108). I

Lest we nriss the identity of wills here between the king and the principle he serves,
Langland provides some similarity between the two reﬁlsals of reuthe by making each one
conditional. The king reﬁlses mercy unless Reason dictates mercy. Reason refuses mercy
until “lordes and ladies louen alle treuth . . . “ and “Whiles Mede hath the maistrie ber
motyng is at barres” (C.IV.109, 132). Reason goes on to describe how he would rule

were he king.

Shulde neuere wrong in this worlde bat y wyte myhte
Be vnpunisched in my power for perel of my soule
Ne gete my grace thorw eny gyfte ne glosynge speche
Ne thorw mede haue mercy, by Marie of heuene.

For nullum malum, man, mette with impunitum

And bad nullum bonum be irremuneratum. (C.IV. 136-141)

128
He explains his exarnple of a king’s right relation with his subjects in terms redolent of

the doctrine of submission. Reason names the judicial actions of the king ‘Vvork” and
labels the law administered by the king as a laborer. “And yf 3e worche it in werke y
wedde bothe myn handes / That lawe shal ben a laborer and lede afelde donge, / And loue
shal lede thi land as the leef lyketh” (C.IV. 143-145). The emphasis on labor, service and
submission in Reason's ideal kingdom is unmistakable; for such a government to ﬁrnction,
the subjects, the king, even the law must be as laborers for the beneﬁt of all. The point is

driven home in the last lines of passus IV.

‘But ich reule thus alle reumes, reueth me my syhte,

And brynge alle men to bowe withouten bittere wounde,
Withouten mercement or manslauht amerrde alle reumes. ’
‘Y wolde hit were,’ quod the kynge, ‘wel a1 aboute.
Forthy Resoun, redyly thow shalt nat ryden hennes

But be my cheef chaunceller in cheker and in parlement
And Consience in alle my courtes be a kynges iustice. ’
‘Y assente,’ sayde Resoun, ‘by so gowsulue yhere,
Audiatis aIteram pariem amonges aldremen and comeneres,
And bat vnsittynge suﬁaunce ne sele goure priue lettres
Ne no supersedeas sende but y assente,’ quod Resoun.
‘And y dar lege my lyf bat loue wol lene be seluer

To wage thyn and helpe wynne bat thow wilnest aﬁur

 

129
More then alle thy marchauntes or thy mytrede bysshopes

Or Lumbardus of Lukes bat leuen by lone as Iewes. ’
The kyng comaundede Consience tho to congeye alle his oﬂ‘eceres

And receyue tho that Resoun louede. . . . (C.IV.180-196)

Reason urges the king to rule without ﬁnes (mercement) or corporal punishment
(manslauht). The king responds with ready willingness to follow the advice of Reason.
Reason agrees with the proviso that the king promise not to over-rule Reason. Given the
right relation that ﬁrlﬁllment of this promise will establish, Reason predicts that great
riches will come to the king. The agreement between Reason and the king is obvious as
are the beneﬁts resulting ﬁom the king’s submission and the identity of his will with
Reason’s will. All the voices acknowledge that the right relation seems about to be
established and will remain so as long as the liege is subject to reason. That is as long as
reason and the ruler share an identity of wills.

The identity of wills is a motif that runs throughout Piers Plowman. Signiﬁcantly,
the motif reaches its culmination during the concluding two passus of the poem in which
the barn of unity is built and subsequently overrun by evil (C.XXI-XXII). Appropriately,
before Piers can build the barn of Unity, Christ, the exemplar of spiritual unity on earth
must be thoroughly explained. Langland does this by providing a lengthy passage on the
various names, titles, and actions of Christ, in the voice of Conscience. Conscience’s
discussion of kingslrip demonstrates that the unity required for the right relation can only

be achieved by adherence to the doctrine of submission.

130
Hit bicometh for a kyng to kepe and to defends

And conquerour of his conqueste his layes and his large.
And so dede Iesus be Iewes: he iustiﬁed and tauhte hem
The lawe of lyf that laste shal euere,

And fended hem fro foule eueles, feueres and ﬂuxes,

And fro fendes bat in hem was false bileue. (C.XXI.42-47)

The actions depicted here are classic examples of the service a lord does for his retainers.
He literally keeps, or provides, for them. He instructs and judges among them. He
defends them from all varieties of threat and harm both inward and outward, physical and

spiritual. The echo in line C.XXI.42 of Meed’s comments in passus C.III seems far ﬁ'om

accidental, since comparison of the two passages illustrates an important point.

Hit bycometh for a kyng bat shal kepe a reume

To 3eue men mede bat meekliche hym serueth,

To aliens and to alle men, to honoure hem with 3eﬁes;
Mede maketh hym be byloued and for a man yholde.

Emperours and erles and alle manere lordes

Thorw 3eftes haen gernen to 361116 and to ryde. (C.III.265-270) '

The lords in both passages give to their servants. However, giving is the only action
performed by the lord described by Meed, whereas, Christ, Unity’s exemplar, performs
many services for those who serve him. Furthermore, the motives Meed attributes to the

lord for giving are all self-serving in the extreme. Gifts, as Meed states, are given for the

13 1
purpose of getting something in return, whether that something is more gifts, honor,

more men, or a kingly realm. The emphasis is distinctly un-right and completely opposed
to the doctrine of submission. The words of Conscience that describe Christ as the
exemplar of Unity at no point mention what the king might receive for all of his labor on
the part of his servants. Conscience simply points out the appropriateness of nanring such

a hard-working king to be a conqueror.

Ho was hardior then he? his herte bloed he shedde

To make alle folk fre bat folweth his lawe.

And sethe he gelleth largeliche all his lele lege

Places in paradys at here partyng hennes

He may be wel called conquerour, and that is Crist to metre.

(C.XXI.58-62)

Much more is contained in C.XXI that comments on the right relation. Langland
reiterates the un-right and indirect relations showing how closely they resemble the right
relation and how easily these undesirables can be nristaken for their right counterparts. In
a miniature satire of the estates, a brewer, a vicar, and a lord all ﬁnd fault with the church
and excuses for not serving the cardinal virtues that should rule people of all estates
(C.XXI.395-465). These ﬁgures who exemplify the un-right relation are followed by a
king, who exempliﬁes the indirect relation. Like Nature in Pilgrimage, this king
administers his kingdom well. “Y am kyng with croune the comune to reule / And holy

kyrke and clerge fro cursed men to defen ” (C.XXI.466-467). Also like Deguileville’s

132
Nature, this king is concerned less with the service he provides than with the power he

accrues.

Ther y may hastilokest hit haue, for y am heed of lawe

And 3e ben bote mernbres and y aboue alle.

And seth y am 3oure alere heued y am goure alere hele

And holy churche cheef helpe and cheuenteyn of be comune
andwhatytake of3owtwoytakehitatbetechynge

Of Spiritus iusticie, for y iuge 30w alle. (C.XXI.469-474)

Conscience, not the Icing, adds the qualiﬁcations that identify power in a right relation.
“‘In condicioun,’ quod Consience, ‘bat bou be comune defende / And rewle thy rewme in
resoun right wel and in treuthe, / Than haue thow a1 thyn askyng as thy lawe asketh”
(C.XXI.476—478). Vlfrth the exception of Conscience who stands outside the estates, these
ﬁgures demonstrate “how self-irrterest challenges and may pervert the cardinal virtues . . .”
(Pearsall 360). They also demonstrate how ﬁne the line between un-right, indirect and
right relations.
Like Deguileville, Langland gives an important place to Spiritus Paraclitus, or
God’s Grace, in the founding of the right relation. Unlike Deguileville, Langland’s Grace
participates in no adversarial debate. Grace in Piers Plowman is introduced as “Cristes
messager” (C.XXI.207). And Consience asks those present “yfthow canst synge/
Welcome hym and worschipe hym,” so none are coerced or persuaded, but all willingly

Submit (C.XXI.209b-210a). Interestingly enough the song of welcome and worship is one

133
of supplication. “Helpe vs, god, of grace!” (C.XXI.212b).lo Grace’s purpose, as

Christ’s messenger, at this point in the poem is to give Piers and his fellow pilgrims giﬁs

that will prepare them for the conring battle over Unity.

‘For I wol dele today and deuyde grace

To alle kyne creatures bat can his fyue wittes,

Tresor to lyue by to here lyues ende

And wepne to ﬁhte with bat wol neuere fayle. . . .
Forthy,’ quod Grace, ‘or y go y wol gyue 30w tresor
And wepne to ﬁhte with bat wol neuer fayle.

And 3af vch man a grace to gye with hymsuluen

That ydelness encombre hem nat, ne enuye ne pryde. ’

(C.XXI.215-218, 225-228)

The gifts are purposeﬁrl and not excessive. These are no mere rewards for gain but
appropriate and right lordly actions that provide for the needs of the servants. The nature
of the gifts veriﬁes the existence of the right relation. The gifts include not material goods
but material actions: “labour of tonge,” “craft of konnynge of syhte,” “Laboure a londe
and a watre,” “To tulye, to becche and to coke,” “To deuyne and deuyde noumbres,” and
so forth (C.XXI.229-245). The purpose of these metaphorical “giftes” is to “cover not
1°“Helpevs,god,ofgracel”wasawidelyused,ifmild,oathintheMiddchys However, itsplacement
inC. anwCondeme’smmkdngdulyamNpWasavemofmmMpgimmemmenof

provision as a condition/signiﬁer of right lordship.

134
only discipleship but the work of all men, religious and secular. . . . Langland returns to

the world of the Visio, now seen as the Christian community living as Christ’s Church. . . .
The life of the Christian community (ecclesia) on earth has been Langland’s concern
throughout the poem” (Pearsall 350-351). And this purpose returns us to Conscience’s
discussion of Christ as the exemplar of Unity.

Given the example of Christ, Piers, at the urging of Grace, builds the barn of f
Unity in order to house the souls who have joined him throughout his pilgrimage.
“‘A3eynes thy graynes,’ quod Grace, ‘bigynneth for to rype, / Ordeyne the an hous, Peres,

to herborwe in thy comes’” (C.XXI.318-319). When Piers asks for Grace’s help, she, like

 

Deguileville’s Grace Dieu, supplies the central ﬁgure of the poem with everything he
needs to accomplish his task. The result of Piers’s labor and carpentry is a house called
“Vnite, Holy Chirche an Englisch” (C.XXI.329). Pearsall notes that, “The name “Unity”
is used to suggest the union of God and man in Christ and through him in his church”
(354). Hence, we see Langland making explicit the right relation between God and
humanity, spiritual and secular.

However, despite the solid and speciﬁc imagery of grain and barn, labor and
construction, Langland, in a conclusion to the poem that confounds expectation, shows
that the Unity of secular and spiritual is not a permanent, irnpregnable, un-changing place.
The battle that Conscience and his followers ﬁght for the barn of Unity is a long and hard-
fought one that nevertheless ends in defeat. So rather than concluding with the closure of
a successﬁllly established safe harbor, Piers Plowman concludes where it began with a

pilgrimage that continues the search for Truth.

135
‘By Crist,’ quod Consience tho, ‘y wol bicome a pilgrime,

And wenden as wyde as be world regneth
To seke Peres the plouhmarr, bat Pruyde myhte destruye’

(C.XXII.380-382).

The conclusion to the poem is disquieting. I believe this ending is intended to disturb
readers out of complacency. Conscience, still in the secular world, and defeated by the
Antichrist and his forces, leaves on a pilgrimage. The secular life, the journey, is far from
over. Having found and lost the right relation once, Conscience pursues the only course

he knows that may bring him to the right relation again.

 

CHAPTER IV: SUMMARY

“To probe the source of a speaker’s [literature’s] authority is very quickly, as

 

.-
Foucault shows, to discover irnpregrrable interlocking institutions which force expression

into certain thoroughly architected places of conﬁnement” (Lentricchia 198). As we have

seen, the right relation is such a place, “architect ” by the philosophical tradition and its

intersections with the realities of late medieval life. Given samples of an identiﬁable late E

medieval English literature, the purpose of this study has been to question some of the
sources of that literature’s authority; that is to determine what intersections of culture,
time, and philosophy might have met to create the nexus that was the right relation.

The philosophical elements contributing to the concept of right relation are
numerous. From the Aristotelian tradition we note the importance of the reciprocity of
relation to its very existence. Boethius underscored the value of the form and substance of
a relation to its rightness. John of Salisbury gave eloquent expression to the need for the
identity of wills in a right relation. With the notion of the imitatio Dei, Christianity added
an identiﬁable standard of lightness to the philosophical tradition. Each of these elements
is observable in the feudal practices of gift-giving and oaths of fealty. In the later Middle
Ages, when plagues, uprisings and political policies all seemed to controvert the doctrine
of submission, it was to those feudal practices of oaths and giﬁs that medieval authors

looked in search of the right relation.

136

137
These practices, the philosophical tradition and the nascent commercial ideology

converge in late medieval English literature to deﬁne the category of relation. In all
likelihood, the conﬂuence of ideologies marked in late medieval events also dictated that
the expression of light relation in late medieval English literature would occur
hierarchically, often in terms of relations between lords and servants. And, if we believe
the evidence of late medieval English literature, the lord and servant relation was one that
authors and audiences of the time held to be universal, as a model and a metaphor for all
hierarchical relations.

Chapters 1, II, and 111 showed that the nexus of meanings “architected” in the right
relation, or juncture of feudal, market and Christian ideologies, expresses itself in late
medieval English literature with ambiguity and paradox. The reader, like Walter in the
Clerk ’s T ale, is leit constantly to test each text, Griselda-like, for ideological weaknesses
and variations. Such ambiguity compels Gower to conclude Vox Clamantis with a
pessimism that regrets the passing of the golden age for the present age of clay. “Amidst
the discords at present there is no ancient bond of love which comes to restore us”
(Gower 225). And the envoy glosses the Clerk ’s Tale with commentary that seems to
negate the tale. “But sharply taak on yow the governaille. / Emprenteth wel this lessoun in
your mynde, / For commune proﬁt sith it may availle” (1192-1194). The ambiguity
expressed with each conclusion pushes the quest for the right relation beyond the secular
into the spiritual.

The authors who explore the spiritual right relation treat both feudal and
commercial ideologies ambiguously, as the Pearl-maiden’s words demonstrate. “‘Of more

and lasse in GOdC; ryche,’ / bat gentyl sayde, ‘lys no joparde, / For ber is vch mon payed

138
irrlyche, / Wheber lyttel ober much be hys rewarde’” (601-604). However, Julian’s

parable shows that the feudal doctrine of submission dictates the expression of the right
relation. “His [the lord’s] deerworthy servannt, whych he lovyd so moch, shulde be hyely
and blessydﬁllly rewardyd withoute end, aboue that he shuled have / be yf he had not
fallen . . (518). Thus, the spiritual right relation is located in the city of the soul and is
paradoxically forever beyond the reach of secular man. Only works like those of
Deguileville and Langland treat the fllll range of the right relation. The right relation, as
seen in these works, springs from the union of secular and spiritual that ﬁnds expression in
the junctures of feudal, market and Christian ideologies. So the late medieval right
relation is ﬁaught with ambiguity and paradox, giving twentieth-century readers
considerable diﬁculty with these texts and the characters who populate them.

The diﬁculties that modern readers often have with characters such as Piers,
Griselda, the Crying Voice, the Pearl-poet’s jeweler, Deguileville’s dreamer and Julian’s
Christ-Adam are a consequence of the nexus of meanings—represented in the doctrine of
submission, the identity of wills, and the imitatio Dei—that merge in and descend from the
right relation. As noted in Chapter I, Chaucer and Gower describe the right relation and
its correlative the un-right relation in the secular setting. Each author deals with the
relation of individuals to each other. In the Clerk ’s Tale Chaucer focuses on the
developing relation between a speciﬁc, albeit ﬁctional, man and woman. Gower centers
his discussion of relation on an encompassing and traumatic moment in history when all
relations seemed un-right. Each poet, by his own method, makes clear that the social
hierarchy was a ﬁamework within which the right relation could be recognized. The

disparity of rank between Walter and Griselda draws attention to the importance of social

139
hierarchy in Chaucer’s tale and its commentary on the right relation. The emphasis on the

failed relations of the three estates demonstrates Gower’s concern with the social
hierarchy. These poets also make clear that the ruler’s willing submission is the source of
the secular right relation at all levels. The right relation is ﬁnally established in the Clerk '3
Tale only when Walter is able to restore Griselda as his wife by forgoing his own arbitrary
desires. Because the king in Vox Clamantis fails to provide for the needs of his subjects,
the right secular relation is never achieved in Gower’s text. However, Gower leaves the
impression that less rigidity and more justice on the part of the king would have resulted in
the desired restoration of the right secular relation.

If the Clerk ’s Tale and Vox Clamantis can be taken as typical examples of late
medieval thought about the secular right relation, then one might believe, given a quick
reading, that the right relation is one in which the poor and weak are not only at the mercy
of a potentially abusive powerﬁll but are urged to submit themselves to the rule of the
powerful no matter how benign or malignant that rule might be. This is, obviously, the
case in the famous rat fable that Langland includes in the Prologue of Piers Plowman.
From a twentieth-century perspective of free choice and individual empowerment such
acts of submission are not only foolhardy but criminal. However, given a perspective
emerging ﬁ'om feudal ideology, the acts of subnrission underwritten by Griselda’s example
and the Crying Voice’s urgings can be seen as practical, safe, and right. Twentieth-
century audiences are used to perceiving late medieval authorities-40rds, rulers,

husbands—as oppressive.l Certainly legislation such as the statutes of laborers and the

 

lItisnotmyintentionlreretoarguethatlatemedicvalrulerswereorwerenotoppressive. Imerely

observethatbytwentiethcenturyAmerieanstandardslatemedieval nllersprobablywcrcoppressive.

140
poll taxes make the ruling classes of late medieval England appear like “tyrants of

lombardye” to the twentieth-century audience. However such legislation was notoriously
ineﬂ‘ective. As Putnam notes the statutes were “inoperative as to their avowed object

. . . . to secure an adequate supply of labourers at the rate of wages prevailing before the
catastrophe [the plague]” (4 and 3). Careful reading of works like the Clerk ’s Tale and
Vox Clamarrtis demonstrates that one factor contributing to the failure of such legislation
is that feudal ideology about right relations still held great sway in late medieval England.
At the same time, commercial ideology about the right relation was acquiring signiﬁcant,
but not total, legislative inﬂuence.

The discOurses of feudal and market ideologies meet at a number of points
illustrated in late medieval literature. For example, feudalism perceives the similarity of
goals, or identity of wills, as the guarantee of an oath sworn between lord and vassal.
Griselda’s promises to Walter expressed just this perception. A market economy
perceives the guarantee of a contract as the potential and self-irrterested beneﬁt to both
parties involved. Walter’s proposal to Griselda oﬂ‘ered a marriage contract for just such
mutual beneﬁt. The juncture of oath and contract rests in the possessive language that
expresses both. A similar juncture occurs in regard to gilt-giving and proﬁt making.
Feudalism sees giﬁs as marks of prestige for both giver and receiver. Market ideology
sees gifts as so much material proﬁt for the receiver and so much material loss for the
giver with the usefulness of the item rather than the act of giving as the determiner of
value. The intersection of gift-giving and proﬁt-making is in the act of exchange. This
nexus is observable in Vox Clamantis where Gower castigates laborers, as he elsewhere

does the clergy and the nobility, for seeking proﬁt above personal honor. “For the very

141
little they do they demand the highest pay” (Gower 208). In commercial terms, the proﬁt

seeking in Gower’s passage was merely good business. In feudal terms, the worth of men
represented in the exchange had all but been annihilated.

From the junctures of feudalism and commercialism emerged a literature that links
the two in a very diﬂ‘erent way from the legislation of the time. For late medieval English
literature expresses a discourse that deﬁnes as un-right any lordly tyranny in secular
relations. Alceste’s gentle clriding of the Lord in the prologue to LGW shows precisely
how un-right is tyranny in late medieval English literature. “For, sire, it is no maystrye for
a lord / To darnpne a man withoute answere or word, / And, for a lord, that is ﬁll foul to
use” (386-388).

If Chaucer and his contemporaries decry lordly tyranny in the secular right relation,
they viewed tyranny on the part of the serving class as even worse. One of the very clear
economic motives for the statute of laborers was to prevent production ﬁ'om being at the
mercy of labor. As far as the tyranny of laborers is concerned, feudal thinking about the
doctrine of submission was far ﬁ'om discontinuous with economic thinking about the
beneﬁts of a subnrissive and obedient labor force. Indeed, both feudal and market
perspectives on the secular light relation spoke so strongly for the submission of servants
that any assertiveness not linked with the will of the lord bore an un-right distinction.
Hence, outright rebellion must have seemed like madness. What emerges from this
conﬂuence of feudal and market thought is that no amount of self assertion will lead to
true authority and right relations but rather that willing submission alone has the unique
and authorizing power to establish the secular right relation. This is what we ﬁnd

expressed about secular right relations in the literature of late medieval England.

142
In order to support a view of the secular right relation that abhors tyranny in all

classes, Chaucer and Gower draw on the juncture of feudal and market ideologies of
power thus giving density and tension to their work. This tension-producing juncture is
evident in the confusion of labels given to the serving class. The difference between serf
and villein seems largely one of economic opportunity; a diﬂ‘erence attributable to the
coercive, marketplace power or submissive, feudal authority of whatever ruler was
involved. Yet because the circumstances that identiﬁed serf and villein as not lorrﬂy
originate in the point where market and feudal ideologies of power meet, the conﬁlsion of
labels seems inevitable. The same juncture of ideologies can be seen in what Gower writes
of as the failures of the three estates. Proﬁt-making continually rearranged the lines of the
three estates that feudal practices had built up. Such intersections were perceived as
failures, by a poet whose ideas about right relations were distinctly feudal.

If ﬁrrther evidence of the nexus of feudal and market ideologies of power is
required, we need only to look at the depiction of eagerness or zealotry in all six of the
works examined here. Zeal in each of these works is a kind of madness or error that
inevitably leads to the downfall of the zealot. This form of power—and zeal is indeed
powerful—ﬁts neither market nor feudal ideologies concerning power. Little proﬁt could
be made from zeal in late medieval England, and zealotry was ungovernable, the antithesis
of subnrissiveness. Hence, both feudal and market ideologies expect failure from zealots
and reject those who are over-eager. One quality of zeal points to the reason for its
importance to and its rejection in late medieval English literature. Zeal is, by deﬁnition,
out of proportion, out of balance. The right relation ﬁom its earliest deﬁnition in

Aristotle’s Categories is typiﬁed by balance. Each of the works examined here tells the

143
story of a person or persons whose relations are at some point un-right, or out of balance.

Each of the works gives some indication of how tightness or balance may be restored.

Thus, zeal is characterized by the absence of the right relation between ruler and
ruled which, by virtue of its reciprocal quality, requires balance. That absence was caused
by the decline of the identity of wills as an authorizing force and by the pursuit of coercive
power most often seen in marketplace terms of direct personal beneﬁt. Chaucer and
Gower give us Walter and the rebellious peasantry as examples of coercive power
produced in pursuit of direct personal beneﬁt. Gower, at least, implies that the way to
right secular relations lay in allowing fear and love to overcome the desire for direct
personal beneﬁt and to lead one into willing submission to one’s superiors and the
requirements of one’s place in the hierarchy. But both Chaucer and Gower conclude that
the secular right relation is dependent upon humanity’s ability to imitate, in his relation
with other men, the spiritual right relation of human beings with God, that was covered in
Chapter II.

Julian of Norwich’s parable of the lord and the servant and the Middle English
Pearl represent a portion of late medieval English literature that locates the search for the
right relation in the territory of the spirit. These works conﬁrm the implication in the
Clerk ’s Tale and Vox Clamantis that the relation between individuals and God must be
right before the right relation can be found in the secular world. While the circumstances
that give context to Julian of Norwich and the Pearl-poet’s visions are signiﬁcantly
different than the Clerk ’s Tale and Vox Clamanris, the message about the right relation is

strikingly similar.

144
Like Chaucer and Gower, Julian of Norwich and the Pearl-poet describe the light

relation and its correlative in the images of feudal and market ideologies. Eagemess in
pursuit of the spiritual right relation, like its secular version, indicates moral crisis and
relations about to go wrong. Gift-giving and the exchange of provision for service
represent recurrent discourses in both Pearl and Julian of Norwich’s parable, as do ideas
about private property, worship and reward. The result of these recurrent discourses is a
strong emphasis on the reciprocity of the right relation. That emphasis culminates in
Christ’s enactment of the doctrine of submission, establishing the imitatio Dei as the
strongest human expression of the right relation between man and God.

Signiﬁcantly the work of Julian and the Pearl-poet impose Christian ideology upon
the feudal and economic qualities that characterize the right relation. Julian’s parable and
the Pearl stress forgiveness and salvation, making clear that respect for human ﬁailty and
submission to suffering as well as to hierarchically superior beings is a pro-requisite of
spiritual strength and power. No comment is made in Julian’s parable or Pearl about
tyranny. That behavior problem is left to the secular realm. The emphasis in the spiritual
works is so much on the sovereignty and reward gained through service, submission, and
suﬂ‘ering that tyranny becomes the very antithesis of the right relation, and has no place in
discussions about the spiritual right relation.

The search for the spiritual right relation found in Julian of Norwich’s parable and
Pearl are indicative of the re-exarnination of the roles of master and servant that was on-
going in the church and the spiritual activity of the time. This is not to say that the Julian

of Norwich or the Pearl-Poet should be read as allegorizing the disputes between the

 

 

 

145
church and the crown. Such readings would unbearably ﬂatten the meanings of both

parable and Pearl.

Pearl also illustrates spiritual links between market and feudal ideologies that are
evident in misunderstandings about the imitatio Dei. The misunderstandings often
resulted in pride of place and neglect of the doctrine of submission. Such
misunderstandings occur repeatedly on the part of the jeweler in Pearl. In his debate with F
the Pearl-maiden over her place in heaven, the jeweler demonstrates his erroneous

presumptions about the spiritual right relation that spring from the idea of direct personal

 

proﬁt. The jeweler, motivated by the idea of proﬁt alone cannot understand the authority

[I
,..

of the Pearl-maiden’s submission. Feudalism and the market economy both endorse the
idea of gain. But the market economy’s endorsement is for gain that is direct and
personal, while feudalism endorses gain that is deferred and shared. Market ideology
would never prompt a statement like Bernard of Clairvaux’s assertion that “the knowledge
of truth is to be found only at the summit of humility” (31). As understood in economic
terms, “the summit of humility” would produce pride of place rather than willing and
selﬂess submission to authority. Such submission to authority had been the feudal
foundation of the medieval church hierarchy. In the face of an ecclesiastical hierarchy that
was crumbling under the onslaught of proﬁt making, feudal ideologies of the spirit
retreated into hermeticism, mysticism and spiritual literature.

That spiritual literature, with its vivid portrayals of strength and authority emergent
ﬁom human frailty and weakness, enters the late medieval debates over ownership,
worthiness, service and reward. In Pearl, especially, we see a direct confrontation

between feudalism and proﬁt making. The conﬁ'ontation is evident, when the jeweler

146
mistakes the Pearl-maiden for his lost pearl. The narrator’s pride of possession in a pearl

that did not truly belong to him but to God ignores the feudal belief that the exchange, not
the gift, is the true purpose of gilt-giving. A similar juncture of feudalism and the market
economy occurs in the parable of the vineyard, as Mann’s discussion of “paye” has
demonstrated. “The word has two main branches of meaning: in the fourteenth century,
as now, it meant ‘payment’ in the monetary sense, but there still survived also its older F“
[feudal] meaning of ‘satisfaction’” (24). Julian’s parable expresses similar ideas, when

discussing the rewards given to the servant by the lord. But Julian consistently expresses

 

the idea of reward in the language of feudal, rather than market, ideology. The lord gives

l

the servant “a 3yﬁe that be better to hym and more wurshcypﬁrll than his [the servant’s]
owne helle shuld haue been” ($17-$18). While the reward is personal, as commercial
payrrrerrt would be, it is neither direct nor prompted by self-irrterest. The reward is
deferred until the work of suﬂ‘ering is done, and Julian never presents the servant as
soliciting any reward ﬁom the lord. Additionally the feudal ideology of Julian’s parable is
upheld by naming the reward a worshipful gift rather than a monetary unit.

By the end of both Julian’s parable and the Pearl-poet’s dream vision, at least one
of the implications of Clerk ’s Tale and Vox Clamantis is conﬁrmed. The right relation
between humans and God is the basis for the right relation between individuals. However,
while Julian of Norwich and the Pearl-poet conﬁrm this one implication, they also deny
the accessibility of the right relation in the secular world. Both the parable and Pearl
locate the right relation in the city of the soul, forever across the spiritual river from the
secular world in which folk like the jeweler and the fallen servant live. IfJulian of

Norwich and the Pearl-poet were correct about the search for the right relation and the

147
locus of its ﬁnal achievement, could Chaucer and Gower have been wrong about the locus

of the secular right relation in the person of the ruler? If so, was recognition and
achievement of a secular right relation impossible?

Chapter III shows that Deguileville and Langland do not seem to think that either
the secular or the spiritual idea of the light relation is wrong. Rather, the works of these
two poets demonstrate the necessity of both secular and spiritual in order to achieve truly
right relations. be Pilgrimage of pe Life of [re Manhode and Piers Plowman do not
illustrate the right relation in the ultimate city of the soul as Julian of Norwich and the
Pearl-poet do, nor as Chaucer and Gower imply in the example of a speciﬁc ruler’s
submission to the needs of his subjects. For Deguileville and Langland the right relation
appears in the progress of man’s soul through the world, thus joining spiritual with
secular. Both works open with a dis-junction of secular and spiritual in which the primary
character’s relations are un-right. Yet each character carries with him the juncture of
spiritual and secular as he progresses toward right relation. That juncture is observable at
those points where each story’s visionary frame abuts the solidity of settings like house
and ﬁeld encountered by the pilgrims on their respective journeys.

Both Deguileville and Langland allegorize moments of the spiritual and secular
juncture. Deguileville does so most vividly in the debate between Grace Dial and Nature.
The debate literally joins the spiritual, Grace Dieu, and the secular, Nature, in conﬂict.
The conclusion of the debate links Grace Dieu and Nature in a right relation guaranteed by
a feudal identity of wills. Nature’s words are reminiscent of the feudal oath of homage.
“Ye ben my maistress, I se it wel: ouer alle I ouhte obeye to yow. Of nothing it should

displese me of thing bat ye wol doo. I thinke neuer to speke but bat ye wolen foryive me

148
. . .” (Deguileville 26.1072). The resemblance of the promise made by Nature to the

promises made by Griselda in the Clerk 's Tale are strong. But uner the Clerk 's Tale, De
Pilgrimage of ﬁe Life of be Manhode links a secular personiﬁcation with a spiritual
personiﬁcation by a willing act of submission.

Langland’s allegorizations of the links between secular and spiritual are almost too
thickly clustered to enumerate, but the one most parallel with Deguileville and most
concerned with the right relation is the battle over Unity (Passus XXI). In this passus
secular images of labor and construction are linked with a spiritual personiﬁcation, Spiritus
Paraclitus, by the acts of gift-giving, and provision. As another form of God’s Grace, the
purpose of Spiritus Paraclitus is to give to Piers and his followers gifts that will prepare
them for the coming battle over Unity. “For I wol dele today and deuyde grace / Go all
kyne creatures bat can his fyue wittes, / Tresor to lyue by to here lyues ende / And wepne
to ﬁhte with bat wol neuere fayle . . .(C.XXI.215-218).

Additional links between spiritual and secular are represented in Deguileville’s
portrayal of Nature and Langland’s portrayal of Meed. Oaths of fealty and commendation
are used, as they were in Gower and Chaucer, to give voice to the secular and spiritual
feudal ideology of the right relation and its correlative the un-right relation. Nature’s
promise to Grace Dieu, discussed above, exempliﬁes the right relation. In Piers Plowman,
the charter of enfeomnent granted by Guile to Meed and Fals presents a classic example of
charters of enfeoffment granted throughout England in the middle ages, in which goods
and services are granted for allegiance and provision. One diﬁculty with the charter ﬁ'om
Piers Plowman is the character of the parties involved in the exchange. Meed’s character

is questionable at best, while F als, Liar, and Guile are clearly ill spirits personiﬁed. If these

149
personiﬁcations were capable of ﬁllﬁlling the promises made in the charter of enfeofﬁnent,

they would certainly present the form of obedience. But Fals, Liar, and Guile, by
deﬁnition, invalidate the identity of wills that guarantees the oaths represented in the
charter. The enactment of the right relation by parties who invalidate the guarantees that
underwrite it subverts that relation. The subversion is purposeﬁll if we note the lack of
spiritual union with the secular in which the right relation ought to occur. Langland makes '7'“
no mistake in having Theology interrupt the proceedings before the charter can be sealed.
Thus, by using the feudal discourse of homage and fealty, the juncture of secular and

spiritual is demonstrated, in both be Pilgrimage of ,be Life of [re Manhode and Piers

 

Plowman, to be vitally important in establishing the right relation.

be Pilgrimage oflre Life of [re Manhode and Piers Plowman share much with
contemporary poems that concentrate more on the secular or spiritual than on both.
However, Deguileville and Langland include direct discussion of the predicamenrum ad
aliquid, unlike the other late Middle English works examined here. By referring directly
to the category of relation, Deguileville and Langland assert the importance and character
of the light relation. This is perhaps more clearly seen in Deguileville’s comments given to
Reason than in Langland’s, which are muddied by association with the debate over Meed.
To summarize, Reason’s discussion of the ad aliquid shows that relation is, by reference
to Aristotle’s deﬁnition, reciprocal. “All relatives are spoken of in relation to correlatives
that reciprocate” (Categories 18). But Reason goes beyond Aristotle to show that
relations of individuals and between individuals and God must be right. Emphasis on

rightrress is achieved by following the submissive example of the most powerful of human

150
beings, Christ. “If bou haddest subiectes [also], as he bou mihtest do: bi miht wer Ad

Aliquid. . .” (Deguileville 19.770).

What emerges from the ad aliquid is that relation is a category of both potential,
“mihtest,” and potency, “miht,” not of extremes but of degrees in which right relation is
closest to identity or union and indirect relation is at the farthest remove from union.
Thus, the relation, not its constituent parts, confers authority or subservience, oneness or
otherness upon those parts. Yet the relation ceases to exist if either part ceases to
participate. Both be Pilgrimage of ,be Life of be Manhode and Piers Plowman, like Julian
of Norwich, recognize in Christ the embodiment of the right relation. He is lord and
servant together in a single entity that is both secular and spiritual. But Langland and
Deguileville argue that the right relation is accessible to secular man. The achievement of
the light relation in the union of secular and spiritual actually occurs in Piers Plowman
C.XXI. However, Langland implies that the unity of secular and spiritual is not a
permanent, irnpregrrable, unchanging place but that unity like the right relation continually
emerges out of man’s eﬂ‘orts to right his relations with others as the circumstance of his
life change.

All in all, the nexus of meanings and discourses that is located in the light relation
is marked by a small, but important, sub-set of the events and practices that identify what
is commonly called late medieval English literature. The history of late medieval England
conﬁrms what the study of the right relation tells us about the conﬂuences and dis-
junctions of co-existent discourses in the literature of that time. Those co-existent
discourses include far more than the few feudal, commercial, philosophical and Christian

discourses examined here. Indeed, if taken as an example, the study of right relation in

151
late medieval English literature expresses a pattern of discourse that recurs throughout the

history of human thought.

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