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The Prologue to the Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer

Important Characters to Read, in the Canterbury Tales are – The Knight, The squire, The prioress, The monk, The Friar, The franklin, The Wife of Bath, The Parson, The Reeve, The summoner, The pardoner, Chaucer as A Pilgrim,

You can download the syllabus from here for Paper 102 named as Paper-II Chaucer to Milton here.

The Knight

The Knight is the first of the pilgrims to be introduced. This is most appropriate, firstly because the Knight stands at the top of the social hierarchy in this group, and secondly because he is a virtuous character providing an ethical standard against which the other characters may be judged.


The Knight, we are told, was a worthy or brave man. He was, indeed, a great warrior. He participated in many military campaign and had travelled far and wide in order to fight. He had always been honoured for his bravery.


Many times he had sat at the head of the table as the most distinguished person among those of various nations. He had fought at Alexandria, in Lithuania, in Russia, in Grenada, and at several other places. (The list of the places where the Knight had fought had a romantic ring to Chaucer’s readers). Many of the battles in which he had participated were fought in defence of the Christian faith. Several times he had fought in single combat, and had killed his adversary every time.


Although his military valour was this Knight’s most striking quality, he possessed certain other admirable virtues also. He was not only brave, but wise. He had loved chivalry, truth, honour, and courtesy from an early time in his career. He greatly valued the quality of generosity. In spite of such grand virtues in his character, he was as modest as a maiden. He had never uttered any foul words in all his life. He was truly a perfect, gentle Knight (‘a verray, parfit, gentil knyght”).


As for his clothes and equipment, this Knight had fine horses, though he did not wear a gaudy apparel. He wore a doublet of coarse cloth which, at the time of his setting out on his pilgrimage, was all soiled by his coat of mail, because he had recently returned from a voyage of adventure.


Chaucer presents the Knight as a real representative of the code of behaviour which prevailed in those days among knights. Knights were required to be wise, provident, just, and pure. They were expected to serve Christianity against the infidels and the barbarians. They were not only to be champions of the church, but also protectors of the weak, and exemplars of moral virtue. There is no doubt that Chaucer’s Knight fulfils all these conditions. We might say that Chaucer gives us an idealised portrait in the case of the Knight.

The Squire

The Squire” who attended on the Knight was the Knight’s own son.

The Squire was a young man of about twenty, with curly hair and an average height. He was a young man of great agility and great strength. He had given a good account of himself in battle and, because of his good record of fighting, he hoped to win the favour of the lady whom he loved. He was, indeed, a great lover, and he loved so hotly that he could hardly sleep at night.


Chaucer depicts the Squire as a very lovable youth. The Squire’s garments, we are told, were embroidered like a meadow full of fresh flowers, white and red.

In his leisure time, he would sing or play on a flute. He was as fresh as is the month of May. He was a highly accomplished young man. He could not only sing songs but compose them too. He could dance, draw, and write well. He was courteous, modest, and useful. Among his duties was carving before his father at the table; in other words, he was expected to cut roasted meat into small pieces for his father to eat.
The Knight is a man of maturity and dignity. The Squire offers a study in contrast, being characterised by youthful enthusiasm. The language employed by Chaucer in depicting him suggests the Squire’s vivid quality. Furthermore, the arts of peace were as important to the Squire as the arts of war.

The Prioress

Although the Prioress is a woman of religion, being a superior nun holding the charge of a priory, she is depicted here as possessing a number of secular and worldly accomplishments. In fact, Chaucer has employed plenty of irony in presenting the Prioress. His irony here consists in a subtle method of both describing her character and commenting on her at the same time.

Irony is therefore away of making apparently simple statements implying more than they actually say.

Thus we are told that the Prioress was full of charity and pity (and these qualities we would naturally expect from a person dedicated to a religious life, but the illustration which Chaucer gives of her charity and pity concern not other people but her pet dogs. Her dogs were fed with roasted meat, or with milk and bread of the finest quality, and she wept bitterly if any of the dogs died or was hit by somebody sharply with a stick.

Thus the Prioress’s charity seems to us more or less misdirected because the roasted meat, milk, and bread of the finest quality were regarded as delicacies in a society in which a large number of people never got enough to eat. Similar ironic implications are to be found in the aristocratic associations.

The Prioress was fully instructed in the manners to be observed at meal-times. She never let a morsel of food fall from her mouth. She never dipped her fingers deep in her sauce. No trace of grease could be seen on her cup when she had sipped any drink from it, because she would wipe her lips clean. She picked up her food in a well-bred manner. She took pains to follow the behaviour prevalent at the royal court. In all this, Chaucer suggests that there was much affectation both in the Prioress’s religion and in her fine manners. But Chaucer’s satire is very gentle. It would seem that he liked the Prioress in spite of her little foibles.

Chaucer emphasises the Prioress’s basic femininity. She was “simple and sweet in her smiling”, her greatest oath being merely “By St. Loy” ; she had a well-shaped nose, .. d eyes gray like glass (gray seems to have been the favourite colour of women’s eyes in Chaucer’s time) ; her mouth was very small, and it was also soft and red. Her wimple was neatly pleated.
There were several fourteenth-century romances in which the heroine’s name was Eglantine which is also this Prioress’s name. Thus in this description also we have an ironic association of the religious and the worldly, with a clear suggestion that the Prioress’s real nature is closer to the latter. This gives an ambiguous quality to the brooch which she wore with the inscription: “Love conquers all“. Apparently the inscription refers to the love of God but, with this particular Prioress, we suspect that it might more truly be said to refer to the love of the secular, material world. There is a touch of humour in the reference to her fair forehead which was almost a span (about nine inches) in breadth, because surely she was not
“undersized”.

The Monk

Chaucer’s Monk was an outrider who loved hunting. Hunting was, indeed, this Monk’s favourite pastime, and he did not hide his irritation with those who objected to it. He did not give a plucked hen, we are told, for that text which said that hunters were not holy men. Nor did he care for the text according to which a monk, who disobeyed the rules of the cloister, was like a fish without water. Chaucer’s Monk did not confine himself to his cloister, did not pore over books, and did not work with his hands. He defied St. Augustine’s directive that physical labour was necessary for monks. This Monk did not believe that the world could be served either by hard study or by hard labour. And therefore he could well have said: “Let St. Augustine have his work reserved for himself!” He kept swift grey hounds for hunting purposes. All his pleasure lay in tracking and hunting the hare, and to enjoy this pleasure he spared no cost.


Chaucer depicts his Monk with the same irony that he used in portraying the Prioress. Apparently straightforward statements have critical overtones which we cannot fail to perceive. Thus, after outlining in detail the Monk’s extremely irreligious activities, Chaucer says: “Now certainly he was a fair prelate.” The inconsistency is intentional, and we find Chaucer frequently writing in this tongue-in-cheek manner.


The worldliness and fine living of this Monk are greatly emphasised. The Monk’s costume and equipment were most lavish. He had a large number of valuable horses in his stable. When he rode, the jingling of the bridle of his horse could be heard at a distance. His sleeves were lined with gray fur (from the squirrel of the finest quality. In order to fasten his hood under his chin, he had an intricate pin of wrought gold, with a love-knot at one end. He wore supple boots. His face shone, as if it had been anointed.


He was fat and in very good shape, like his horse; he was not pale like a tormented ghost; and “a fat swan loved he best of any roast.”

The Friar

The Friar was a gay and merry fellow. He was a limiter. ( As a limiter, the Friar was allotted a particular area in which to operate, that is, to beg. The Friar paid for the right to beg in his area in which no other friar was allowed to beg. By this time religious begging had become a profitable proposition.)

With his characteristic irony, Chaucer tells us that, in all the four orders of friars in England at that time, there was no one capable of so much gossip or so much flattery as this particular individual. Continuing his ironical manner, Chaucer says that this Friar had performed a large number of marriages of young women at his own cost (probably because they had been his mistresses), that he was a “noble pillar of his order” familiar to all the rich farmers and also to the worthy women of the town.


The irony in this portraiture continues till the very end. This Friar was, we are told, authorised by a papal licence to hear confessions. Most sweetly did he hear a confession and grant an absolution. He promptly gave penance when he knew that he would get a good remuneration. If he got enough money from a sinner, he would boldly assert that the sinner was repentant of his sins. He was of the opinion that sinners, instead of shedding tears of repentance and offering prayers, should give money to the poor friars.


The Friar’s immorality went still further. He used fair language to win the favour of women and, where language failed, he tried to win them over with ornamental knives and brooch pins. The Friar knew the taverns and bar-maids of every town far better than he knew the lepers or beggars, and here we may recall that St. Francis had considered it one of the primary duties of monks and friars to look after the sick and the penniless. Again, St. Francis had written that all the members of his order should wear mean garments. But Chaucer draws our attention to the richness of this Friar’s dress.

The Friar did not think it fitting that a worthy man like him should become acquainted with sick lepers. Such an association would have brought him no profit. He therefore thought it much better to deal with rich people and with sellers of food. He was courteous, and humble in rendering service, wherever there was a possibility of making any money. There was no man anywhere so virtuous, says Chaucer ironically. His reading of. the Gospel of St. John was so pleasant that he would manage to rob even a destitute widow of some little money. The proceeds of his begging were much larger than the rent he paid to his convent. On “love-day”
‘ this Friar
was very helpful. He settled disputes by arbitration, and made money by the service thus rendered.

The Franklin

A franklin was a free tenant of the Crown, holding his lands without the obligation of military service or rent. Chaucer’s Franklin had a white beard and a “sangwyn” (ruddy) complexion. He might be regarded as the very son of Epicurus who held that pleasure was the basis of perfect happiness.
To live pleasurably was therefore his custom. He began his morning with a rich dish, namely, a sop of wine. The finest food and drink were available in his house. He was so hospitable that he might be called Saint Juliant of his country. Nobody had a better wine-cellar than this Franklin. There was such an abundance of eatables and wines in his house that one would think that “it snowed in his house of meat and drink”. He changed his meals in accordance with the change of seasons. He kept many fat partridges in baskets, and cultivated many kinds of fish in his ponds. His sauces were pungent and sharp, and the dinner table in his house stood ready all the day long.


The Franklin was a substantial person in every way. He presided at sessions of justices of the peace, had been a member of parliament, and had functioned as a sheriff and a treasurer: “Was nowher swich a worthy vavasour” (There was nowhere such a worthy vassal).

The Wife of Bath

The Wife of Bath is one of Chaucer’s most famous characters. At the outset we are told that she was somewhat deaf. She had a great talent for cloth-making, possessing in this craft a skill superior to that of the workmen of Ypres and Gent. In the whole parish, there was no woman who dared to go to the collection box in the church before this Wife of Bath. If any woman dared to do so, the Wife of Bath felt enraged. She had married** five husbands, besides having had lovers in her youth.


Next to her matrimonial experiences the most noteworthy thing which Chaucer tells us about the Wife of Bath is the extent of her pilgrimages, on the longest of which she seems to have gone alone. There is no real inconsistency in a woman of her amorous and worldly nature going on a series of pilgrimages to holy shrines (Jerusalem, Rome, Boulogne, Cologne, etc.). By the fourteenth century the pilgrimage had become for some a social excursion as well as a religious act, a fact reflected in some of Chaucer’s other pilgrims.


The Wife of Bath was gap-toothed. She sat upon an ambling horse with ease, neatly veiled. The kerchiefs she wore on her head on a Sunday must have been ten pounds in weight. Her hat was as wide as a shield. About her large hips, she wore an outer skirt, and on her feet a pair of sharp spurs. In company she could laugh and joke a good deal. And, doubtless, she knew the remedies of love (that is, she was well-versed in all the devices of love-making, or perhaps she knew all methods of gratifying love).

The Parson

Chaucer’s Parson is a study in sheer goodness. The Parson is in some ways a parallel to the Knight: the Parson exhibits virtue in the ecclesiastical world, whereas the Knight represents virtue in the secular world.

Most of the other ecclesiastical characters in the Prologue, notably the Pardoner and the Summoner, are thoroughly corrupt. Perhaps it was Chaucer’s intention to delineate the failings of individual persons, not the institution to which they belonged, and in describing the good Parson he tells us by implication that the church did have servants who faithfully carried out its commands.


The Parson was poor in a worldly sense but rich in holy thoughts and holy work. He was a man of learning. He truly preached the gospel of Christ, and sincerely looked after the spiritual welfare of his flock. He never shirked visiting the parishioners because of rain or thunder, sickness or trouble. He visited the high and the low, and he went to them on foot, with a staff in his hand. He set a noble example for his parishioners by actually practising what he preached. In fact, this was the Parson’s major virtue,
“First he wroughte, and afterward he taughte.” The members of any religious organisation are generally attacked on the ground that there is a wide gulf between what they teach and what they themselves do. The responsibility attaching to moral leadership puts them in a special position, which Chaucer sums up in a line that has become famous: “That if gold ruste, what shal iren do ?”


Another malpractice of the times is indicated by Chaucer when he tells us that this Parson did not let out his own office for hire, leaving the parishioners to sink into sin ; this Parson did not go to St. Paul’s Cathedral in London in order to work as a singer of masses for the souls of others, nor did he try to make extra money by working as a priest in the service of some guild. He lived in his own parish and looked after his parishioners to prevent them from falling under the infuence of the enemies of the church.
He was a true priest, not a businessman aiming at money. The malpractice referred to here was clerical absenteeism which usually took the form of serving in one of the especially endowed chantries* in the city (many of which were set up by the guilds, while simply abandoning the rural parish or hiring a substitute. This had the advantages of increasing a parson’s finances and also of avoiding the rigorous life of the country parish.


This Parson never excommunicated anybody in order to force payment of the tithes due to him. On the contrary, he helped his poor parishioners with money from his collection of tithes. One abuse which prevailed among clergymen in those days was that they excommunicated those who did not pay their tithes. The clergymen had thus a powerful hold upon the people.

Chaucer’s Parson not only did not use this threat but aided his parishioners from his own income.
The Parson was kind-hearted, and wonderfully industrious. And he had proved many times his powers of endurance when overtaken by misfortunes. He was not callous or haughty or contemptuous in dealing with sinners; on the contrary, he was soft-spoken and sympathetic in giving them advice and instruction. He wanted to show people the way to heaven by uprightness and good example. However, if anyone persisted in his sinful ways, the parson rebuked him sharply. He expected no ceremonial receptions or any show of profound respect from people. Nor did he consider himself faultless or above reproach. “A bettre preest, I trowe ther nowher noon ys,” says Chaucer.

The Reeve

(A reeve was attached to a manor to supervise the produce and to keep the accounts)

Chaucer’s Reeve was a slender, ill-tempered man, with his beard shaved close and his hair cut high round his ears and clipped short in front. His legs were long and lean and looked like two sticks. (Although we are not given as detailed a physical description of the Reeve as we get of the Miller, there is enough detail to give the contemporary reader some notion of his personality.

For instance, those who were thin were believed to be ill-tempered, and easy to anger. But thin people were also held to be sharp-witted, and with excellent memories. The long legs were evidence of lustfulness and, while this trait does not appear in the Prologue, it does emerge in the tale which the Reeve later tells).

The Reeve was very much a double-dealer. He could maintain a granary and a store with such skill that no auditor could detect his tricks. No man, by checking his account could find the Reeve in arrears. He had held his position for a long time (for twenty years or so, and the entire property of his lord was in his charge.

He knew and remembered all the particular failings of those who worked under him, and he had made the workers aware that he knew their cunning and trickery. Thus they could never reveal any of his misappropriations of his master’s funds, and were in fact afraid of him as of the plague. He was a better buyer than his master and had, by his private transactions, accumulated much wealth for himself. He had built a house for himself in a fair part of the countryside. At the same time, he knew subtle ways of pleasing his lord. He would give to his lord or lend him the lord’s own goods without the lord’s realizing this, and in this manner he would not only receive the lord’s thanks for this service but also a coat and a hood as a reward.

(Later in The Canterbury Tales, the Reeve and the Miller have a violent quarrel. The Miller’s Tale is an attack on the Reeve who feels enraged. Subsequently the Reeve attacks the Miller in the tale that he tells. It also becomes clear that these two men had known each other before the meeting at the Tabard Inn. It may be pointed out, too, that one of these two men leads the procession of pilgrims, while the other stays at the end of it. They are sharply contrasted in appearance, one short and thick, the other long and thin).

The Summoner

Chaucer presents the Summoner’s physical disorders in a way which suggests inner or spiritual corruption. He chooses the Summoner’s ailments with the contemporary medical explanations of them in mind. For instance, the Summoner is portrayed as having a pimpled face, a fire-red complexion, scabby brows, and a shaggy beard.

There was no medicine or ointment or cream that could cure him of the pimples or of the lumps of flesh on his cheeks. Children were afraid of his visage. Besides, the Summoner had coarse tastes. He was fond of eating garlic, onions, and leeks, and drinking strong wine, red as blood.

Chaucer makes fun of him by pointing out that, when the Summoner was drunk, he would speak no word but Latin of which he knew only a few expressions particularly the one that means “the question is what law applies and repeating it constantly.
The Summoner was morally corrupt. He would allow a fellow to keep a mistress for twelve months just for a quart of wine. And he could also take advantage of a girl (that is, he would seduce a girl if he got the opportunity).
He taught people not to feel afraid of the arch-deacon’s curse (that is, excommunication) because he expressed the view that, by paying a good round sum, a fellow could get release from that curse. Within his jurisdiction, the Summoner had control over the young people of his district because he knew their secrets and acted as their adviser.
But Chaucer has a word of praise for the Summoner also. The Summoner was a gentle rascal and a kind one; and a better companion than he could not be found. As a final touch, the Summoner’s head-gear was as large as an ale-house sign, and his buckler was a huge loaf of bread. These symbols of physical appetite do not suggest robust health (as with the Franklin), but appetite which runs to gluttony. Thus in the character of the Summoner we get a combination of physical ailments, gastronomic excesses, lechery, religious hypocrisy and impiety, and good fellowship.

The Pardoner

The medieval pardoner had as his main occupation the selling of indulgences (that is, the remission of punishment to repentant sinners), but he also sold religious relics and did some preaching. The sale of indulgences was an abused practice and finally came to have little to do with the repentance of sinners. Indulgences were of varying degrees and were sold for various prices.

Although the money gained through them was meant to be handed over to the church, dishonest pardoners managed to keep it for themselves. Chaucer’s Pardoner had a bag full to the brim with indulgences which he claimed to have brought directly from the Pope at Rome. He also had in his possession several articles which he claimed were holy relics.

A pillow-case was claimed by him to be Virgin Mary’s veil; a piece of canvas became in his hands St. Peter’s sail; the bones of a pig were shown by him as being the remains of a saint. Carrying these bogus relics, wherever he found a poor parson living in the countryside, he made more money in one day than the parson got in two months. Thus, with pretended sincerity and by means of trickery he befooled the parson and the parson’s flock.

Chaucer ironically tells us that there was not such another pardoner from one end of England to the other. Within the precincts of a church, this Pardoner appeared to be “a noble ecclesiaste” because he knew how to read a passage from the Bible or the life-story of a saint and he knew also exactly when to sing an anthem preparatory to the ceremonial offering of the bread and the wine. He knew how “to wynne silver”

The Pardoner was a fitting companion for the Summoner and so they joined in song. The song which the Pardoner sang was a popular love-ditty but it has been suggested by some scholars that the Pardoner sang this song to the Summoner because of his effeminate nature. The Pardoner’s hair, yellow as wax and smooth as a coil of flax, indicates lack of virility, effeminacy of mind, and also deception. His concern for his clothes and his wish to be in the new mode of fashion confirm this. His bright eyes (shining like a hare’s) were a sign of folly and immodesty. And it may finally be pointed out that he had a veronica sewn upon his cap. (A veronica was a miniature picture of Jesus Christ).
Note – Chaucer has shown us dishonesty in the secular world in the persons of the Miller and the Reeve, but he has not condemned them much. He has been harsher on the Friar who, as a religious figure, was expected to show great moral uprightness which he does not. The foibles of the Prioress are treated with amused indulgence. But for the Summoner and the Pardoner, Chaucer has little sympathy. Both these men held offices which lent themselves to abuse, and of those offices these two men took full advantage.

Chaucer as A Pilgrim

Chaucer, in talking about himself in the role of a pilgrim, assumes the pose of a simple man, devoid of literary pretensions, who will simply entertain his readers. Chaucer is both a pilgrim and the man who is to record the events, including the tales told by the various members of the group, that occur in the course of the journey. Explaining his method of narration, Chaucer hopes for “courtesy” from his readers. He hopes that the readers will not disapprove too much of his candour and his fidelity in reproducing the tales as he heard them no matter how crude the language might be. Not only the language but the situations in some of the tales to come might be crude, and Chaucer gives us a graceful warning to that effect. But he is able to cite both Christ and Plato in support of his method, thus subtly suggesting that he does, after all, know what he is doing. Christ spoke broadly enough in the holy writ, and Christ was not immoral. Plato said that “words should be cousin to the deed”.
Chaucer employs a tone of mock-modesty in speaking of himself. The humour here comes from the fact that a great technician is apologizing for his lack of technique, and that a skillful artist asks us not to mind his mistakes: “My wit is short, ye may wel understonde” (that is, “My brains are weak, you can well understand”).

Religious Characters in Canterbury Tales – Religious Characters in Canterbury Tales ( Link is used from – literaryenglish.com)

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