THE SONG OF THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS THE LAND OF COCKAYGNE THE COMPLAINT OF THE HUSBANDMAN SIR PENNY
THE SONG OF THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS[51]
THE LAND OF COCKAYGNE[52] Far in the sea west of Spain is a land called Cockaygne. There is no land except the kingdom of heaven its equal in happiness and goodness; though paradise is joyful and bright, Cockaygne is still fairer. What is there in paradise but grass and flowers and green branches? Though joy and great pleasure are in paradise, yet there is no food but fruit; there is no hall, no bower, no bench, and nothing but water to quench one's thirst. Only two men live there, Enoch and Elias; a wretched life must they lead where no other men dwell. In Cockaygne is meat and drink, without care or trouble or toil. The meat is dainty; the drink is pure wine at noon and at supper. This land has no peer on earth; verily there is no place under heaven so full of joy and bliss. In that land is many a sweet sight; it is always day and never night; there is no strife nor quarrel; there is no death, but only lasting life; there is no lack of food nor dress; there is no angry man nor woman; there is no serpent, wolf, nor fox, horse nor colt, ox nor cow; there is no sheep nor swine nor goat nor steed nor stables. There are no flies nor fleas nor other insects in town or bed or house, no serpents nor snails, nor is there thunder, sleet, nor hail, storm, rain, nor wind; there is no blind man nor woman, but everywhere is jest and joy and glee. Well fares it with him who there may dwell. Rivers flow there, wide and fair, of oil, of milk, of honey, and of wine. Water serves there only two uses,—to look at, and to use for washing. There are many kinds of fruit, and everywhere is solace and delight. There is a fair abbey of white monks and of gray; there are bowers and halls; the walls are all of pasties, of flesh, of fish, and of rich meats,—the very best a man may eat. Flour cakes are the shingles of church, cloister, bower, and hall. The pinnacles are fat puddings, rich food for princes and kings; men may eat as much as they please, without any danger. All things are in common to both old and young, to strong and weak, to meek and bold. There is a cloister fair and light, broad and long and beautiful. All the pillars of that cloister are of crystal, with bases and capitals of green jasper and red coral. In the meadow is a tree, most pleasing to the sight. The root is ginger and galingale; the shoots are all of zedoary; the finest maces are the flowers; the rind is sweet smelling cinnamon; and the fruit is clove of goodly taste. Cubebs are not lacking, either. There are roses red of hue, and lilies, also, fair to see. They never fade by day nor by night, this should be a pleasant sight. There are four wells in the abbey, made of triacle and aromatic plants, of balm and also of spiced wine, ever fed by underground streams. Precious stones and gold are there, sapphire, pearl, carbuncle, astrion, emerald, liguros and chrysoprase, beryl, onyx and topaz, amethyst and chrysolite, chalcedony and epetite. There are many birds,—the throstle, thrush, and nightingale, the lark and the woodpecker, and other birds without number, that never cease singing merrily day nor night. More, however, there is to tell you; geese roasted on the spit fly to that abbey and cry: "Geese, all hot, all hot." They bring plenty of garlick, the best you could ever look for. The larks, that are familiar food, light in a man's mouth, all stewed daintily and powdered with clove and cinnamon. There is never any question of drink, but every one takes enough, yet does not toil. When the monks go to mass, all the glass windows turn to bright crystal, to give the monks more light. When the masses are all said, the crystal turns again to glass, in the state that it was before.... [The rest of the poem satirizes the morals of the monks.] Translated by M. H. S.
THE COMPLAINT OF THE HUSBANDMAN[53] I heard men upon earth make many a moan, Of how they were harried in their task of tilling: Good years and grain are both of them gone, We enjoy here no tales, and have no song to sing. Now we must work, no way else is known, I may no longer live by my gleaning. Yet even a bitterer demand has upgrown, For ever the fourth penny goes to the king. Thus we complain of the king and have cares that are cold; Though we dream of recovery we are ever downcast. He who has any goods which he hoped he could hold Learns that what we love most we must lose at the last. Loath are we to lose what little there is, And we have our henchmen who will for pay sue. The hayward [54] bodes harm if we have aught of his, The bailiff [55] with blows shows how well he can do, The woodward [56] awaits in the watched wilderness: Neither riches nor rest will arise for us few. Thus they pillage the poor, who have little of bliss, And must sweat at their toil and waste away too. He must needs waste away, whatever he swore, Who hath not a hood his own head to hide. Thus will walks in the land, and law is no more, And picked from the poor is the persecutor's pride. Thus they pillage the poor and pick them all clean, And the rich men are ruling without any right; Their lands and their people all lie very lean, Through demands of the bailiffs such sorrows alight. Men of religion [57] are abject and mean As are baron and bondman, [58] the clerk and the knight. Thus will walks in the land and sorrow is seen, Falsehood grows fat and mars all with his might. He stands still in a spot and shows a stern soul, Who makes beggars wander with long staves and bags; Thus we are hunted from hall and from hole, And those who wore robes are now wearing rags. And then come the beadles [59] with many a boast: "Supply me with silver for the green wax, [60]Thou art set down in my writ as thou thyself know'st," Yet more than ten times have I paid my tax. Then I must furnish hens for the roast, And fairly, each fish day, have lamprey and lax. [61]If I go to the market, I lose, at the most, Though I sell my bill [62] and my big axe. I may place my pledge well if I will, Or sell my corn when it's green as the grass; Yet I am a foul churl, though they have their fill; What I've saved all the year I must spend at this pass. Needs must I spend what I've saved from of yore, Against the coming of catchpoles I must take care; The master beadle comes in like a brutish boar And says he will make my dwelling all bare, So then I must bribe him, with one mark or more, Although I at the set day should sell my own mare; Thus the green wax grieves us neath our garments poor, So that men hunt us as hound does the hare. They hunt us as hound does a hare on a hill; Since I took to the land such woe I've been taught. The beadles have never had quite all their fill, For they slip away, and it's we who are caught. Thus I catch and I carry cares that are cold, Since I have had cottage and reckoning to keep. To seek silver for the king, my seed I have sold, And my land has lain fallow and learned how to sleep. Since they took my fair cattle away from the fold, When I think of old joys I am ready to weep; Thus are bred so many of these beggars bold, And our rye is rotten and rank ere we reap. Rank is our rye and rotten in the straw, Because of foul weather by brook and by shore; Thus wakes in this world the worst woe men e'er saw, As well waste all away, as work thus evermore.
SIR PENNY[63] On earth there is a little thing That reigns as does the richest king, In this and every land; Sir Penny is his name, we're told, He compels both young and old To bow unto his hand. Popes and kings and emperors, Bishops, abbots, too, and priors, Parson, priest, and knight, Barons, earls, and dukes, also, Gladly in his service go, Both by day and night. Sir Penny changes a man's mood And makes him, often, don his hood And rise and stand again. Men honor him with reverence And give utmost obedience Unto that little swain. In the king's court it is no gain Against Sir Penny to complain, So great is he in might; He is so witty and so strong That be a matter ever so wrong He will make it right. With Penny women may be won By those men they once did shun, As often may be seen; Long with him they will not chide, For he can help them trail aside, In good scarlet and green. He may buy both heaven and hell And everything there is to sell, Such grace he has on earth. He may loose and he may bind; The poor are ever put behind, When he comes to a place. When he begins to take control, He makes meek the cruel soul And weak who bold has been; All men's needs are quickly sped, Without pledge or bail to dread, Where he is go-between. The justices he makes so blind They are unable right to find Or even truth to see; To give judgment they are loath, If it should make Sir Penny wroth, For dear to them is he. Where strife was, Penny soon makes peace; From anger he will bring release, As long as men will spend; Of foes he makes friends most true, His counsel they will never rue Who have him for friend. That lord is set above us all And richly served within the hall At the festal board; The more he gives men plenteously, The more beloved always is he, And, by a host, adored. He makes many be forsworn Who in body and soul are made forlorn By following after him. Other god they will not have, Except that little and round knave, To end their sorrows grim. On him alone they set their hearts, And no man from his love departs, Neither for good nor ill. All that he will on earth have done Is granted soon by everyone According to his will. Penny is a good fellow; Men greet him in deed and word, also, Whenever he comes near; He is not welcomed as a guest, But always served with what is best, A soft seat and good cheer. Whoever falls in any need, With Penny's help will win good speed, Whatever may betide; He that is Penny's friend, withal, Shall have his will in steed and stall When others are set aside. Sir Penny gives men richest weeds, And many men may ride his steeds In this world so wide. In every game and every play The mastery is given aye To Penny for his pride. Sir Penny always wins the prize Wherever towers and castles rise By town or country way; Without either spear or shield He is the best in wood or field, Most stalwart in the fray. In every place this truth is seen, Sir Penny rules both great and mean; Most masterful is he; And all is as he does command; Against his will no man dare stand, Neither on land or sea. Sir Penny's counsel gives great aid To those who have his law obeyed, As the assizes show. He lengthens life and saves from death, But love him not o'er well, God saith, For covetousness is woe. If thou shouldst chance treasure to win, Delight thee not too much therein, Nor proud nor haughty be; But spend all as a Christian can, So that thou mayst love God and man In perfect charity. God grant us grace, with heart and will, The goods that he is giving, still Well and wisely to spend; And our lives here so to lead, That we may have His bliss for meed, Ever without an end.
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