The Clerk's Tale: A dashing young Marquis called Walter (yes, Walter. It surprised me too.) decides he wants to marry a poor peasant girl called Griselda. He arranges a completely over the top wedding, the kind which would get at least eight pages of photos in OK magazine, maybe even twelve in Hello, and then goes to ask her father's permission. He even checks with Griselda to make sure she is OK with the idea, which is a) pretty token since we all know she is going to say yes and b) not as decent as it sounds, because what he's actually checking she's OK with isn't the getting married bit, it's the handing over complete control of her life to her husband bit. Basically, he makes it pretty clear that he's going to be the boss.
They have a bling-tastic wedding and she's the model wife; very virtuous and modest and noble, and does what she is told, and produces a lovely baby daughter. All is well. Everyone LOVES Grizelda and Walter. There were the kind of couple who, if this were a modern tale, would be known as "GrizTer" or "WalZelda" or something equally silly.
Sadly, as is so often the case with couples as golden as these two were, things start to go a bit wrong. It's all Walter's fault, really. I did warn you about him. Out of the blue, right in the middle of this perfect lifestyle he has, he decides to put his wife to the test. So he sends his dodgiest goon to go and visit Griselda and force her to hand over their baby daughter. Not only that, he tells the goon to give Griselda the impression that her daughter will be killed.
So that's what happens; the dodgy goon shows up and Griselda reluctantly hands over the baby. Except the baby isn't really killed. Walter arranges for his sister to look after her, and she's brought up in complete luxury. Poor Griselda doesn't know this, though, and she's absolutely heartbroken. But, good wife that she is, she puts on a brave face and doesn't burden her husband with her woe and despair. She stays true and loyal and good and kind and so on. Basically, Griselda has passed her husband's ridiculous test.
Four years later she has another child, a boy this time, and Walter does EXACTLY THE SAME THING. Idiot. The same dodgy goon shows up, Griselda hands over the baby, is just as devastated as last time, maybe even more, but doesn't show it. She passes the second test with flying colours as well.
Is this enough for Walter? Of course it isn't. Next, he fakes documents from the Pope giving him permission to marry someone else. Still Griselda doesn't complain. (By this stage, to be honest, Griselda is starting to irritate me a bit too.) Then he arranges for his children (now 12 and 7) to be sent to him. He doesn't tell anyone they're his children though; what he does tell them is that the girl is going to be his new wife.
By now a few other people are coming to the conclusion that Walter is, indeed, a bit of an idiot. He tells Griselda that this is all her fault; the reason no-one likes him any more is becuase he has married beneath him. Then he sends her off to go back to live with her father in their old cottage. She can't take any of her clothes or jewelry or anything; just the clothes she came in, except those have all been turned into cleaning rags by now. She walks all the way back home in an old coat someone gives her and bare feet, which I imagine must have felt like the world's longest walk of shame. Being Griselda, she doesn't complain.
Walter's new "wife-to-be" (who, in case you have forgotten already, is really his and Griselda's thought-to-be-dead-by-Griselda daughter) arrives, along with her (also-thought-to-be-dead-by-Griselda) brother. Remember how everyone hates Walter now? Well, when they meet his fake wife-to-be who, being her mother's daughter is pretty and kind and sweet and noble and so on, they conveniently forget about Griselda and decide they quite like Walter again. People are stupid.
Walter summons Griselda back to the palace and asks her to decorate it for the wedding, just to twist the knife a bit more. She tells him his new wife-to-be seems very nice, and asks ever so politely that he treats this one more kindly than he treated her. He kisses her and tells her who his "new wife" really is and and offers some lame excuse about how he wasn't being cruel, really, he was just testing her, and isn't he a hero for reuniting her with her thought-to-be-dead children. No, Walter, you're not. You are an idiot.
The clerk, after he tells this tale, claims he's not suggesting wives should be submissive, but that all of us, male and female, should strive to be as good and pure as Griselda is. Given the loser husband she ends up with, I'm not sure she's such a great role-model, personally. But maybe that's just me.
Just time for a quick picture before the next tale:
The Merchant's tale: If you thought Walter was bad, just wait until you meet this next guy. He is called January, and his name is the least ridiculous thing about him. January (it doesn't get any better no matter how many times you say it) is a bachelor knight who, at the age of 60 decides to cast aside his lusty ways and get married.
He asks his friends to find him a wife, and his main criteria is age; he wants one who is about 20, because anyone older than that is getting past it, quite frankly, and as for women over 30, they (we) are apparently just bales of straw and beanbags. (I didn't even know they had beanbags in the 14th century, but there you go. Apparently they did, and apparently I am one.)
His friend Placebo spends a very long time giving him no advice whatsoever, and his friend Justinus basically says "who do you think you are kidding". The rest of his friends decide, after lengthy discussions, that January should definitely get married to whoever he wants whenever he wants. Basically, January has surrounded himself with a bunch of yes men.
He finally picks a wife, who is called May. January and May. What are the chances? With names like those, these two are clearly made for each other. However, January suddenly realises he has a problem: if he marries May he will be blissfully happy, and then how will he ever get into heaven? (Apparently you need to have struggled a bit in life in order to earn your spot.) Nowdays, if you were a 60 year old man set on marrying a 20 year old this wouldn't be your most pressing problem, I am guessing, but maybe things were different then.
Anyway, his friends convince him it's all going to be fine, and the wedding is arranged. It's a grand old affair. January thinks himself a bit of a stud, and spends much of the wedding concerned about whether his wife will be able to cope with him and his manliness (so much manliness) when it comes to the wedding night. Do I need to remind you, at this point, that January is 60? I won't say much about that night except that May wasn't impressed. I don't think that "too much manliness" was the issue. She stayed in bed for the next 4 days to recover.
January, by the way, has a squire called Damien. Better storytellers than me would have introduced you to Damien much earlier, instead of suddenly shoe-horning him now, just as he's about to become integral to the plot. I forgot. (While I'm shoe-horning things in, though, I may as well take the opportunity to mention January's secret, walled, handy-for-a-quick-spot-of-outdoor-sex garden.)
Anyway, Damien fell madly in love with May at the wedding, so much so that he left the party early and went to bed crying like a baby. He was so love-sick, in fact, he decided to stay in bed and sulk forever. January finally notices that his squire is missing in action, so when May finally surfaces, the frst thing he does is send her over to check on Damien. Silly old January.
Damien cheers up considerably when May arrives, which will come as no great surprise to anyone who has been in love. He writes her a very soppy love-letter, which she reads then immediately flushes down the loo so she doesn't have to deal with it. (I must admit, I kind of like her style.)
We get the impression that May isn't all that interested in Damien, but then she goes off to see her husband and after a repeat performance of their wedding night she suddenly decides she is madly in love with Damien after all. It's not hard to see how he might be a more attractive option. The two decide to embark on an ilicit love affair, but in order not to arouse January's suspicions May still has the occasional romp with her husband (they are newly-weds after all; it would seem odd not to). These often take place in the secret walled garden which you already know about because I am such a skilled storyteller.
One afternoon, when May and January are in the garden, either romping or about to romp, January is suddenly and inexplicably struck blind. May is delighted, thinking this will make it much easier for her and Damien to conduct their affair, but in fact the opposite happens; January becomes insanely paranoid and jealous and demands that May stay within reach of him at all times. So Damien and May are reduced to making eyes at each other across crowded rooms. One thing May does manage to do, though, is make Damien a spare key for the secret garden.
One particular day (June 7th, actually, although why we are told this I really don't know) January and May go to the garden and Damien, under May's instructions, follows them. While she is in the garden, having a conversation with her husband about being a good faithful wife (oh, the irony!), May uses sign language to tell Damien to climb up the nearest pear tree and wait for her on the first branch. I will let you imagine for yourself what these gestures might have looked like.
Meanwhile, Pluto, the King of fairies, has also chosen to wander around the garden this day. I don't know how he got in, becuase May didn't make him a key, but maybe fairies don't need keys. It's worth knowing Pluto doesn't like women much, and he arranges things, in the way that only fairies can, so that January will regain his sight the minute his wife is unfaithful to him. Pluto's wife Prosperina, on the other hand, is firmly on team May, and swears to use her power and connections to make sure May can bluff her way out of the situation if she is caught cheating.
May pretends she is hungry and tells January she is just going to nip up the pear tree to pick some fruit. He gives her a leg-up, and unwittingly pushes her straight into the arms of Damien. Even though it's not the most romantic of settings, the two lovers waste no time getting down and dirty with each other for the first time.
January, of course, instantly regains his sight at this point, and the first thing he wants to imprint on his newly claimed retinas is an image of his beautiful wife. Even if it has to be the view from underneath which, let's be honest, is no one's best side. when he looks up, of course, the first thing he sees is May and Damien going at it hammer and tongs. Naturally he's a bit upset by this, and wants to know what is going on. May, with some assistance from Prosperina, no doubt, comes up with a brilliantly audacious three point defence plan:
1. "I was told that if I was to struggle up a tree with a man, you'd get your sight back. I'm just trying to help."
2. "You didn't actually see us having actual sex; your eyes are still not quite right. Hallucinations are a normal part of the healing process."
3. Cry a lot.
Some unspecified combination of these tactics does the trick; May leaps into January's arms and all is forgiven. We don't find out what happened to poor old Damien in the end. For all I know he could still be up that pear tree.
Next time it's the Squire's turn and his Tale involves a celebrity birthday party. If you can guess who the birthday boy is I will be more surprised than I can say.
