A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene;
And ther-on heng a broche of gold ful shene,
On which ther was first write a crowned A,
And after, _Amor vincit omnia!_

--GEOFFREY CHAUCER

_Prologue_ to the _Canterbury Tales_


Every one knows Chaucer's description of the Prioress, Madame Eglentyne,
who rode with that very motley and talkative company on the way to
Canterbury. There is no portrait in his gallery which has given rise to
more diverse comment among critics. One interprets it as a cutting
attack on the worldliness of the Church; another thinks that Chaucer
meant to draw a charming and sympathetic picture of womanly gentleness;
one says that it is a caricature, another an ideal; and an American
professor even finds in it a psychological study of thwarted maternal
instinct, apparently because Madame Eglentyne was fond of little dogs
and told a story about a schoolboy. The mere historian may be excused
from following these vagaries. To him Chaucer's Prioress, like Chaucer's
monk and Chaucer's friar, will simply be one more instance of the almost
photographic accuracy of the poet's observation. The rippling
undercurrent of satire is always there; but it is Chaucer's own peculiar
satire--mellow, amused, uncondemning, the most subtle kind of satire,
which does not depend upon exaggeration. The literary critic has only
Chaucer's words and his own heart, or sometimes (low be it spoken) his
own desire to be original, by which to guide his judgement. But the
historian knows; he has all sorts of historical sources in which to
study nunneries, and there he meets Chaucer's Prioress at every turn.