How might the wife of bath react to the summoner in the canterbury tales?
The Summoner
A Summoner was with us in that place,
Who had a fiery red cherubim’s face,
So sore and puffed, it made his eyes narrow.
He was as lecherous as a sparrow.
His scabbed black brows and mangy beard, made
Him so ugly that children were afraid.
Not mercury, nor white lead, nor sulphur
Nor borax ointment nor oil of tartar
Nor any cleansing or astringent washes,
Could cure him of those suppurating blotches,
Blackheads and boils which covered both his cheeks.
He loved to eat garlic, onions and leeks
And to drink strong wine, red as blood from a vein;
Then he would shout as if he were insane.
And after he’d drunk again and again
He would utter nothing but Latin then.
A few phrases he had learned, two or three,
Which he had gathered out of some decree:
And no wonder since he heard them all day,
And you know very well how any jay,
Can parrot “Walt” as well as the pope can.
But if the subject was changed we began
To see how near his learning’s limit lay.
Ah. Questio quid juris?* he would say.
He was a good natured rascal and kind,
A better companion you couldn’t find,
For a couple of bottles from your bin,
He’d turn a blind eye to your living in sin
For a year and still pardon you totally,
For he would quietly ‘pluck a finch` too, you see.
And with those he took a real liking to,
He would explain, on that score, they need have few
Worries about excommunication.
But if money was a man’s obsession
From his purse the sin must be amended.
Gold – the archdeacon’s hell, he pretended.
But I know he was lying through his teeth.
Bad men should fear anathema’s stern breath,
While absolution saves, this curse means hell,
And he should fear imprisonment as well.
He had all the young of the diocese
In his power because of his readiness
To listen to secrets and offer advice.
He wore a garland, a giant device,
More fit for a pub sign than a man’s head;
He’d made his shield from a flat loaf of bread.
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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Lovely and detailed. I really love it.
I found out alot
thanks : ) love it !!!!!!!!
Although the Wife of Bath freely admits that she’s on the lookout for husband #6, I doubt that she’d give a second glance to that creep! In fact, here are a few details about him to put together: He’s lecherous, and he has skin lesions that not this, that, or “quicksilver” (mercury) can cure. Before penicillin, mercury was a popular treatment for syphilis. As for his quoting Latin, she probably picked up more than that herself, from her scholarly fifth husband. So her reaction might have been, “I buried five better men than that one!”
BTW, if you’re interested in the Wife of Bath, you’d probably enjoy Gillian Bradshaw’s short novel The Wife of Bath.