Lectures on the English Poets; Delivered at the Surrey Institution. William Hazlitt

It was almost a spanne brode, I trowe."

      "A Monk there was, a fayre for the maistrie,

       An out-rider, that loved venerie:

       A manly man, to ben an abbot able.

       Ful many a deinte hors hadde he in stable:

       And whan he rode, men mighte his bridel here,

       Gingeling in a whistling wind as clere,

       And eke as loude, as doth the chapell belle,

       Ther as this lord was keper of the celle.

       The reule of Seint Maure and of Seint Beneit,

       Because that it was olde and somdele streit,

       This ilke monk lette olde thinges pace,

       And held after the newe world the trace. [*]

       He yave not of the text a pulled hen,

       That saith, that hunters ben not holy men;—

       Therfore he was a prickasoure a right:

       Greihoundes he hadde as swift as foul of flight:

       Of pricking and of hunting for the hare

       Was all his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.

       I saw his sleves purfiled at the hond

       With gris, and that the finest of the lond.

       And for to fasten his hood under his chinne,

       He had of gold ywrought a curious pinne:

       A love-knotte in the greter end ther was.

       His hed was balled, and shone as any glas,

       And eke his face, as it hadde ben anoint.

       He was a lord ful fat and in good point.

       His eyen stepe, and rolling in his hed,

       That stemed as a forneis of a led.

       His botes souple, his hors in gret estat,

       Now certainly he was a fayre prelat.

       He was not pale as a forpined gost.

       A fat swan loved he best of any rost.

       His palfrey was as broune as is a bery."

      The Serjeant at Law is the same identical individual as Lawyer Dowling in Tom Jones, who wished to divide himself into a hundred pieces, to be in a hundred places at once.

      "No wher so besy a man as he ther n'as,

       And yet he semed besier than he was."

      The Frankelein, in "whose hous it snewed of mete and drinke"; the

       Shipman, "who rode upon a rouncie, as he couthe"; the Doctour of

       Phisike, "whose studie was but litel of the Bible"; the Wif of Bath, in

      "All whose parish ther was non,

       That to the offring before hire shulde gon,

       And if ther did, certain so wroth was she,

       That she was out of alle charitee;"

      —the poure Persone of a toun, "whose parish was wide, and houses fer asonder"; the Miller, and the Reve, "a slendre colerike man," are all of the same stamp. They are every one samples of a kind; abstract definitions of a species. Chaucer, it has been said, numbered the classes of men, as Linnaeus numbered the plants. Most of them remain to this day: others that are obsolete, and may well be dispensed with, still live in his descriptions of them. Such is the Sompnoure:

      "A Sompnoure was ther with us in that place,

       That hadde a fire-red cherubinnes face,

       For sausefleme he was, with eyen narwe,

       As hote he was, and likerous as a sparwe,

       With scalled browes blake, and pilled berd:

       Of his visage children were sore aferd.

       Ther n'as quicksilver, litarge, ne brimston,

       Boras, ceruse, ne oile of tartre non,

       Ne oinement that wolde clense or bite,

       That him might helpen of his whelkes white,

       Ne of the knobbes sitting on his chekes.

       Wel loved he garlike, onions, and lekes,

       And for to drinke strong win as rede as blood.

       Than wolde he speke, and crie as he were wood.

       And whan that he wel dronken had the win,

       Than wold he speken no word but Latin.

       A fewe termes coude he, two or three,

       That he had lerned out of som decree;

       No wonder is, he heard it all the day.—

       In danger hadde he at his owen gise

       The yonge girles of the diocise,

       And knew hir conseil, and was of hir rede.

       A gerlond hadde he sette upon his hede

       As gret as it were for an alestake:

       A bokeler hadde he made him of a cake.

       With him ther rode a gentil Pardonere—

       That hadde a vois as smale as hath a gote."

      It would be a curious speculation (at least for those who think that the characters of men never change, though manners, opinions, and institutions may) to know what has become of this character of the Sompnoure in the present day; whether or not it has any technical representative in existing professions; into what channels and conduits it has withdrawn itself, where it lurks unseen in cunning obscurity, or else shews its face boldly, pampered into all the insolence of office, in some other shape, as it is deterred or encouraged by circumstances. Chaucer's characters modernised, upon this principle of historic derivation, would be an useful addition to our knowledge of human nature. But who is there to undertake it?

      The descriptions of the equipage, and accoutrements of the two kings of Thrace and Inde, in the Knight's Tale, are as striking and grand, as the others are lively and natural:

      "Ther maist thou se coming with Palamon

       Licurge himself, the grete king of Trace:

       Blake was his berd, and manly was his face,

       The cercles of his eyen in his hed

       They gloweden betwixen yelwe and red,

       And like a griffon loked he about,

       With kemped heres on his browes stout;

       His limmes gret, his braunes hard and stronge,

       His shouldres brode, his armes round and longe

       And as the guise was in his contree,

       Ful highe upon a char of gold stood he,

       With foure white bolles in the trais.

       Instede of cote-armure on his harnais,

       With nayles yelwe, and bright as any gold,

       He hadde a beres skin, cole-blake for old.

       His longe here was kempt behind his bak,

       As any ravenes fether it shone for blake.

       A wreth of gold arm-gret, of huge weight,

       Upon his hed sate full of stones bright,

       Of fine rubins [sic] and of diamants.

       About his char ther wenten white alauns,

       Twenty and mo, as gret as any stere,

       To hunten at the leon or the dere,

       And folwed him, with mosel fast ybound.—

       With Arcita, in stories as men find,

       The grete Emetrius, the king of Inde,

       Upon a stede bay, trapped in stele,