The Merchant's Tale page 5 lines 973 ff
May now speaks for the first time in the Tale, notably when January has just promised to give her all his wordly goods and love. The word "beningnely" [graciously] is used ironically as she is at her most deceptive, vowing fidelity whilst looking out for her lover to have sex with him. Her hypocrisy is blatant as she weeps and overstates her case, emplying a lexis of religious and moral terms to conceal her true lustful intentions and to ensure receipt of her husband's wealth. The reference to his hand, offered at the marriage ceremony, is also ironic as it is now upon her constantly and forms a literal bond on top of the metaphorical one, stressed by the alliteration: "body bond." She exaggerates her promise of faithful wifely conduct by wishing to be put in a sack and drowned if she is "foule" or dishonours, ("empeyre"), her own reputation and her family's, the clanging monosyllabic lines with their pat rhyme "lak/sak" drawing our attention to the superficiality of her claims. Cleverly, she turns her speech into a rebuke to make him humble as she firstly states that she is a "gentil" [noble] woman, which she is not by birth or behaviour, before reproaching men for their constant criticisms of women. She pre-empts his expressing doubts as to her fidelity by insisting that men always condemn women and undermine them. These statements and her desire to inherit tie in with the Wife's of Bath's feminism and make us realise that May is no passive victim of January's desires and that she is about to achieve all her ambitions by her cunning plotting: wealth and youthful sex. Her deceitfulness is emphasised by the juxtaposition of this rebuke with the mention of Damyan in his bush in the next line. The Merchant seems to be aware of the comparison between May and the Wife.
The notion of lewd conduct in a pear tree occurs in several other versions or analogues of this plot as a bawdy part of a crude fabliau but here the background events add depth and some poignancy despite the comedy. May and Damyan have obviously been swapping letters for some time since he knows exactly what to do when she coughs and she can signal to him with pre-arranged signs without the blind January seeing: this seems the most reprehensible part of their behaviour as they take advantage of his trust and disability and he has become more of a rounded and sympathetic character in the Tale. Damyan provides a ludicrous picture as he sits up the tree, emphasised by the humorous rhyme "pyrie/myrie" contrasting the two activities. January and May are also "myrie" for opposing reasons.
At this potentially climactic point the Merchant introduces a digressio in elevated poetic language though somewhat debased when he says "as I gesse". It gives us the weather and the astrological influences, setting the scene for the erotic encounter to come. The Merchant also introduces two new characters, the classical Pluto and Proserpina with a swift summary of their story but they are medievalised into fairies. They are also given human personalities relevant to the story with their marital disagreements and a striving for supremacy which recalls the Wife of Bath. There is relevance to the passage of the seasons and the lexis provides a contrast between the "grisly carte" [terrifying carriage] and the loveliness of the bright, warm day. The Merchant is as precise as ever in telling us which end of the garden they choose and the fact that they have selected this garden is a testimony to its great beauty: January has made an aesthetic success of the venture which is about to be his undoing.
Pluto has a mortal voice and human concerns as he speaks to his wife about the relaionship of men and women. He is learned and sophisticated as he enlarges on his theme, using the same dichotomy as the Wife in speaking of experience and exempla from renowned texts. The word "brotilnesse" [fickleness] recurs along with "untrouthe" in his generalised anti-feminist criticisms of women's behaviour and he vaguely and unconvincingly claims he could tell ten hundred thousand stories to support his statements. He is highly selective in his choice of material and, from all Solomon's sayings, (whilst praising his wisdom and glory) he chooses the one which condemns women as having no "bountee" [virtue, excellence].
Further demonstrations of his somewhat pompous erudition occur when he refers to Jesus, the author of Ecclesiasticus, who has hardly a good word for women. Wild fire and infectious diseases are wished upon them, the fire leitmotif reminding us of earlier mentions, particularly the passion in Damyan's bed. Yet his diatribe serves to add sympathy for January since his plight is seen from another viewpoint as an honourable knight who, because he is blind and old, is about to be cuckolded by his own servant who should be loyal. This is as moving as Damyan is ridiculous, waiting in his pear tree, and the line: "Lo, where he sit, the lechour, in the tree" invites us to visualise the comic cameo. Pluto is so sorry for January that he will use his power to give the old man his sight at the very moment he can see the couple betraying him. This will shame May and other women says Pluto but we can perceive that it will also distress January.
Proserpina is pert and feisty, replying to her husband's criticisms with vigour and alacrity, reminding us again of the Wife of Bath and seeming like a younger version of her or a variant of May, if she were to speak what is in her mind. She swears by Saturn that she will provide May and all future women caught in guilty actions with an excuse to be made with a bold face in order to gain ascendancy over their male partners and critics. This gives fuel to anti-feminist views and its energy may derive from the Merchant's own experience, though we should remember that he does not accuse his own wife of infidelity. Women will never be stuck for an answer even if their husbands have seen their culpable actions with their own eyes. They will face it out boldly and weep, swear and argue - not an attractive picture - making men seem as silly as geese, another debasing animal image. Pilgrims and readers may find that this does make men seem foolish or they may feel that women are unappealingly tough and deceitful. Lying unashamedly is a keynote here and in the Wife of Bath's Preamble, being praised as if it were a virtue.
Proserpina is outraged and voluble in her lengthy speech answering her husband like a mortal wife: she shows hubris and pride in rejecting the authority of Solomon in dismissive fashion as it was considered dangerous to disregard learned sources. Her tone is peremptory as she speaks of "this Jew, this Solomon" and she is not particularly convincing when she claims that other men have found women who are "ful trewe, ful goode and vertuous." She is not specific is stating who these men are - and a speaker should be precise in quoting - whilst, at the same time, being an example of her own promise that women will always find an answer. Even vaguer are her next references to martyrs and Roman tales and she is attempting to win the argument by sheer loquaciousness, exhausting her opponent as did the Wife of Bath. It may be that she thinks she is being rational but we can see that she is wordy without point until lines 1077/8. Her double negative "ne", "nat" attracts the attention of a listener to her interpretation of Solomon's sententia or generalised statement of sense with her clever but implausible claim that he meant that no-one, neither man nor woman, is perfectly good as only God deserves that praise. She asks Pluto not to be angry, "wrooth", which suggests that he is also becoming heated and the quarrel sounds very human.
She continues her tirade by discounting Solomon himself, a use of an ad hominem argument by which the thought of a person is undermined by attacking the individual rather that what he says. Her lines begin with anaphora (repetition) as she grows more vehement asking why Solomon has such a reputation when he disobeyed the commandment not to worship false gods. The irony is that she is a pagan goddess criticising his lack of faith in the true God but the Merchant may be unaware of this. Proserpina also accuses him of lechery and thinks that Pluto is glossing over his faults ("emplastre"), passing over serious matters being a theme in the Tale. He abandoned the "verray God" in old age and only kept his throne because of God's mercy granted for his father's sake. Her tone changes to a lower register by the colloquial rejection of Pluto's attitude to women as not worth a "boterflye" as she sounds increasingly like the Wife of Bath, even using the word "jangleresses" (chatterers) as she did, here with its clanging rhyme on "tresses" before threatening even more derision as long as she lives on anyone who criticises women. Her speech lifts to a climax on these lines and we must remember the virtuoso skill of Chaucer's capturing tone here: this is the voice of a character within a Tale told by another character, a pilgrim, within the frame narrative related by Chaucer himself with the added complexity that she sounds like yet another pilgrim.
Pluto is overwhelmed by her energetic attack and yields out of weariness coupled with a desire not to prolong the quarrel, again reminiscent of the Wife of Bath's last husband and the knight in her Tale. His speech is largely monosyllabic, demonstrating his fatigue and he stands on his dignity as a king, claiming that he must keep his vow and give January back his sight. She replies that she is also regal and, as a queen of fairies (we note agan the medievalisation and diminution of classical figures), must keep her resolve to give May an answer to excuse herself. Neither wishes to create lasting disharmony and Proserpina states explicitly: "I wol no lenger yow contrarie [contradict]". This suggests that marital strife occurs even between affectionate spouses and is often based on the universal battle of the sexes and who can gain "maistrie" or supremacy in a relationship. It also hints that the Merchant himself frequently gives in to his wife. Tension has been produced by the exchange of views and vows and we wonder what January will see when he regains his sight and what May will find to say in her own defence. The Merchant is a comparatively skilled narrator, seeming in change of his material and knowing that he has a good story to relate with more substance than a mere fabliau. The fact that the main theme of the war of the sexes might not be part of the experience of the ecclesiastical pilgrims is unimportant to him as he is aware that bachelors might simply be glad of evidence that marriage is no guarantee of happiness.
With a clear signal of change of direction such as is necessary in oral narration, the Merchant turns his attention to January who is walking in the garden with his "faire May", the adjective reminding us that another man also finds her attractive. He is singing more merrily than a parrot, an ambiguous and slightly comic comparison, but his song has a certain pathos in this situation as it tells of his devoted and enduring love for his wife. The element of humour is underlined by the light rhyme "pyrie/myrie" and the rest of the Tale mingles pathos with comedy in varing proportions. Damyan is a ludicrous figure waiting up the tree and January evokes conflicting emotions in us. May is now described as "fresshe" for the last time as, presumably, the irony is becoming too heavy as well as being "bright and sheene", desirable to Damyan as well. She sighs and cleverly implies that she has the pregnant woman's sudden and intense desire (or pica) for a particular food, even the small green pears up the tree. By this means she manipulates January just as he originally wanted a wife he could mould and control, making the situation ironic. Her use of the word "appetit" is also ironic as she does have an appetite, but for Damyan not pears and the lexis in her account of her desire is powerful and convincing. January shows his love for her by his wish to co-operate and regrets he has no servant at hand to climb: this is strongly ironic as his servant has already climbed the tree with mischievous intent. His blindness prevents him from going up but she has the solution: he should clasp the trunk with his arms and she can use his back for her ascent to meet her lover so that her husband is, ironically, the direct means for her adultery. The visual image is so ludicrous that it is easy to overlook the pathos of January's willingness to help a wife he believes to be carrying his child.
The amalgam of pathos and comedy continues as January complies willingly, saying humbly and devotedly that he would help her with his heart's blood whilst presenting a ridiculous visual image as he bends over so that she can use his back as a step. Nimbly, she grasps a "twiste" [branch] and gets into the tree. Here the Merchant uses the device of diminutio or self-disparagement, excusing himself for his bluntness whilst giving his audience the titillation most of them want. Damyan springs suddenly into life once more and "Gan [this does not mean "began", merely "did"] pullen up the smok and in he throng [thrust]". This episode, along with most of the story involving May and Damyan, is a parody of the courtly love romantic convention. The rhyme "throng/wrong" passes from one part of the narrative, the fabliau element, to the next linking them as we become aware that there have been spectators of this crude incident, Pluto and Proserpina.
Now that January will receive his sight back, we await May's excuse as we know Proserpina will give her an answer. January has a moment of supreme joy when he can see but again is a sad figure as his first loving thought is of his wife. When he looks up into the tree he sees the copulation which the Merchant claims he cannot speak about directly without being crude although we recall that he has done just that. January's outcry is poignant as he cries as does a mother when her child dies, the simile suggesting that his fantasy of perfect love was a child of his imagination. His paradise has been ruined in a garden, an image of Eden. He sees May for what she is: a "stronge lady stoore" [a bold, crude woman] and roars at her in distress. She is a quick-witted liar and claims to be the instrument by which his sight was restored and urges patience and reason. Her preposterous claim that the only method of giving him his sight was to "struggle with a man upon a tree" at first fails to convince January who knows what he has seen: "ye algate in it wente" [it went in entirely] and therefore Damyan "swived" [copulated with] her fully which should bring mortal shame on them both. He speaks crudely but swears he should be hanged by the neck if mistaken; he is not easily deceived at this moment.
Knowing that Proserpina will not let her lose the battle of wits between the sexes, we wait for her further explanation which is clever enough but would not take in someone who did not half want to believe her. She laments that her cure was imperfect as he has not seen clearly and has blurred rather than perfect vision. He remains unconvinced but shows that he is harbouring doubts when he states more hesitantly: "me thoughte he dide thee so." May is a consummate actress and pretends to be hurt and offended at his ingratitude, claiming that he is bewildered ("Ye maze"). The word "kinde" is a form of pun on the meaning of "charitable", (towards January but towards Damyan as well) but also "of the same kind" as she has had sex with Damyan out of the same motive of lust as January had in marrying her. Since we perceive that January wants to be convinced we know the end of the Tale is in view. It has risen to a climax and can now be concluded swiftly by a skilled narrator.
January now accepts May's excuse, partly out of love, partly out of the desire for an easy life with her and partly because agreeing will make him less of a fool in the public eye than seeming a cuckold. He speaks to her affectionately and says they should "lat al passe out of mind", a theme in the Tale whereby it is prudent to overlook unpleasant matters, although he does say what he thought he saw which has the memorable and authentic detail of his vision of intercourse - her smock lifted for the purpose. The Merchant has a cynical side and knows that one must cover up at times. May has an even cleverer answer now as she points out that a person newly aroused from sleep does not see clearly, an analogy for January's sudden access of sight, and that he must wait a day or two until fully awake to be sure of what he sees. Meanwhile there may be other sights which will deceive him. This is much more convincing and sophisticated but we wonder what she has in mind for those couple of days and what she may try to get away with. She is telling him what he wants to hear at the same time as giving herself space for further meetings with Damyan and she embellishes her reasoning with a rather pompous sententia: "He that misconceyveth, he misdemeth" [He who misunderstands will misjudge] before another comically swift motion of jumping down.
Once again a rhyme "tree/he" links two parts of the narrative and ties in January's credulity to her adulterous presence in the tree. He is now mentally blind once more but gains our sympathy as his love for her is real and not a fantasy. It is difficult to know if he believes her or merely wants to but he kisses and embraces her often and strokes her belly where he thinks the child resides, the alliteration on 's' adding to the gentle way he does this. Once again there is pathos in the old man's desire for happiness and we have little doubt that there will be other actions to overlook in the future. There is no repulsive physical description of him here as there was earlier to arouse our hostility. He has restored his own paradise by his willingness to be deceived. The Merchant now brings his Tale to a neat end, almost abruptly as if he is relieved the task is over.
He has told a story which is basically a fabliau but he has added some psychological realism, a mythical element, satire on courtly love, a happy if deluded ending and a contribution to the discussion of marriage, particularly in response to the Clerk and Wife of Bath. Each of these components is intended to please some of the pilgrims and we must remember he is a man used to striking bargains and wants to win the prize. If the contest were to take place he would be a contender as he is a comparatively skilled narrator who never loses the pace and track of his plot and knows how to control his material.
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May now speaks for the first time in the Tale, notably when January has just promised to give her all his wordly goods and love. The word "beningnely" [graciously] is used ironically as she is at her most deceptive, vowing fidelity whilst looking out for her lover to have sex with him. Her hypocrisy is blatant as she weeps and overstates her case, emplying a lexis of religious and moral terms to conceal her true lustful intentions and to ensure receipt of her husband's wealth. The reference to his hand, offered at the marriage ceremony, is also ironic as it is now upon her constantly and forms a literal bond on top of the metaphorical one, stressed by the alliteration: "body bond." She exaggerates her promise of faithful wifely conduct by wishing to be put in a sack and drowned if she is "foule" or dishonours, ("empeyre"), her own reputation and her family's, the clanging monosyllabic lines with their pat rhyme "lak/sak" drawing our attention to the superficiality of her claims. Cleverly, she turns her speech into a rebuke to make him humble as she firstly states that she is a "gentil" [noble] woman, which she is not by birth or behaviour, before reproaching men for their constant criticisms of women. She pre-empts his expressing doubts as to her fidelity by insisting that men always condemn women and undermine them. These statements and her desire to inherit tie in with the Wife's of Bath's feminism and make us realise that May is no passive victim of January's desires and that she is about to achieve all her ambitions by her cunning plotting: wealth and youthful sex. Her deceitfulness is emphasised by the juxtaposition of this rebuke with the mention of Damyan in his bush in the next line. The Merchant seems to be aware of the comparison between May and the Wife.
The notion of lewd conduct in a pear tree occurs in several other versions or analogues of this plot as a bawdy part of a crude fabliau but here the background events add depth and some poignancy despite the comedy. May and Damyan have obviously been swapping letters for some time since he knows exactly what to do when she coughs and she can signal to him with pre-arranged signs without the blind January seeing: this seems the most reprehensible part of their behaviour as they take advantage of his trust and disability and he has become more of a rounded and sympathetic character in the Tale. Damyan provides a ludicrous picture as he sits up the tree, emphasised by the humorous rhyme "pyrie/myrie" contrasting the two activities. January and May are also "myrie" for opposing reasons.
At this potentially climactic point the Merchant introduces a digressio in elevated poetic language though somewhat debased when he says "as I gesse". It gives us the weather and the astrological influences, setting the scene for the erotic encounter to come. The Merchant also introduces two new characters, the classical Pluto and Proserpina with a swift summary of their story but they are medievalised into fairies. They are also given human personalities relevant to the story with their marital disagreements and a striving for supremacy which recalls the Wife of Bath. There is relevance to the passage of the seasons and the lexis provides a contrast between the "grisly carte" [terrifying carriage] and the loveliness of the bright, warm day. The Merchant is as precise as ever in telling us which end of the garden they choose and the fact that they have selected this garden is a testimony to its great beauty: January has made an aesthetic success of the venture which is about to be his undoing.
Pluto has a mortal voice and human concerns as he speaks to his wife about the relaionship of men and women. He is learned and sophisticated as he enlarges on his theme, using the same dichotomy as the Wife in speaking of experience and exempla from renowned texts. The word "brotilnesse" [fickleness] recurs along with "untrouthe" in his generalised anti-feminist criticisms of women's behaviour and he vaguely and unconvincingly claims he could tell ten hundred thousand stories to support his statements. He is highly selective in his choice of material and, from all Solomon's sayings, (whilst praising his wisdom and glory) he chooses the one which condemns women as having no "bountee" [virtue, excellence].
Further demonstrations of his somewhat pompous erudition occur when he refers to Jesus, the author of Ecclesiasticus, who has hardly a good word for women. Wild fire and infectious diseases are wished upon them, the fire leitmotif reminding us of earlier mentions, particularly the passion in Damyan's bed. Yet his diatribe serves to add sympathy for January since his plight is seen from another viewpoint as an honourable knight who, because he is blind and old, is about to be cuckolded by his own servant who should be loyal. This is as moving as Damyan is ridiculous, waiting in his pear tree, and the line: "Lo, where he sit, the lechour, in the tree" invites us to visualise the comic cameo. Pluto is so sorry for January that he will use his power to give the old man his sight at the very moment he can see the couple betraying him. This will shame May and other women says Pluto but we can perceive that it will also distress January.
Proserpina is pert and feisty, replying to her husband's criticisms with vigour and alacrity, reminding us again of the Wife of Bath and seeming like a younger version of her or a variant of May, if she were to speak what is in her mind. She swears by Saturn that she will provide May and all future women caught in guilty actions with an excuse to be made with a bold face in order to gain ascendancy over their male partners and critics. This gives fuel to anti-feminist views and its energy may derive from the Merchant's own experience, though we should remember that he does not accuse his own wife of infidelity. Women will never be stuck for an answer even if their husbands have seen their culpable actions with their own eyes. They will face it out boldly and weep, swear and argue - not an attractive picture - making men seem as silly as geese, another debasing animal image. Pilgrims and readers may find that this does make men seem foolish or they may feel that women are unappealingly tough and deceitful. Lying unashamedly is a keynote here and in the Wife of Bath's Preamble, being praised as if it were a virtue.
Proserpina is outraged and voluble in her lengthy speech answering her husband like a mortal wife: she shows hubris and pride in rejecting the authority of Solomon in dismissive fashion as it was considered dangerous to disregard learned sources. Her tone is peremptory as she speaks of "this Jew, this Solomon" and she is not particularly convincing when she claims that other men have found women who are "ful trewe, ful goode and vertuous." She is not specific is stating who these men are - and a speaker should be precise in quoting - whilst, at the same time, being an example of her own promise that women will always find an answer. Even vaguer are her next references to martyrs and Roman tales and she is attempting to win the argument by sheer loquaciousness, exhausting her opponent as did the Wife of Bath. It may be that she thinks she is being rational but we can see that she is wordy without point until lines 1077/8. Her double negative "ne", "nat" attracts the attention of a listener to her interpretation of Solomon's sententia or generalised statement of sense with her clever but implausible claim that he meant that no-one, neither man nor woman, is perfectly good as only God deserves that praise. She asks Pluto not to be angry, "wrooth", which suggests that he is also becoming heated and the quarrel sounds very human.
She continues her tirade by discounting Solomon himself, a use of an ad hominem argument by which the thought of a person is undermined by attacking the individual rather that what he says. Her lines begin with anaphora (repetition) as she grows more vehement asking why Solomon has such a reputation when he disobeyed the commandment not to worship false gods. The irony is that she is a pagan goddess criticising his lack of faith in the true God but the Merchant may be unaware of this. Proserpina also accuses him of lechery and thinks that Pluto is glossing over his faults ("emplastre"), passing over serious matters being a theme in the Tale. He abandoned the "verray God" in old age and only kept his throne because of God's mercy granted for his father's sake. Her tone changes to a lower register by the colloquial rejection of Pluto's attitude to women as not worth a "boterflye" as she sounds increasingly like the Wife of Bath, even using the word "jangleresses" (chatterers) as she did, here with its clanging rhyme on "tresses" before threatening even more derision as long as she lives on anyone who criticises women. Her speech lifts to a climax on these lines and we must remember the virtuoso skill of Chaucer's capturing tone here: this is the voice of a character within a Tale told by another character, a pilgrim, within the frame narrative related by Chaucer himself with the added complexity that she sounds like yet another pilgrim.
Pluto is overwhelmed by her energetic attack and yields out of weariness coupled with a desire not to prolong the quarrel, again reminiscent of the Wife of Bath's last husband and the knight in her Tale. His speech is largely monosyllabic, demonstrating his fatigue and he stands on his dignity as a king, claiming that he must keep his vow and give January back his sight. She replies that she is also regal and, as a queen of fairies (we note agan the medievalisation and diminution of classical figures), must keep her resolve to give May an answer to excuse herself. Neither wishes to create lasting disharmony and Proserpina states explicitly: "I wol no lenger yow contrarie [contradict]". This suggests that marital strife occurs even between affectionate spouses and is often based on the universal battle of the sexes and who can gain "maistrie" or supremacy in a relationship. It also hints that the Merchant himself frequently gives in to his wife. Tension has been produced by the exchange of views and vows and we wonder what January will see when he regains his sight and what May will find to say in her own defence. The Merchant is a comparatively skilled narrator, seeming in change of his material and knowing that he has a good story to relate with more substance than a mere fabliau. The fact that the main theme of the war of the sexes might not be part of the experience of the ecclesiastical pilgrims is unimportant to him as he is aware that bachelors might simply be glad of evidence that marriage is no guarantee of happiness.
With a clear signal of change of direction such as is necessary in oral narration, the Merchant turns his attention to January who is walking in the garden with his "faire May", the adjective reminding us that another man also finds her attractive. He is singing more merrily than a parrot, an ambiguous and slightly comic comparison, but his song has a certain pathos in this situation as it tells of his devoted and enduring love for his wife. The element of humour is underlined by the light rhyme "pyrie/myrie" and the rest of the Tale mingles pathos with comedy in varing proportions. Damyan is a ludicrous figure waiting up the tree and January evokes conflicting emotions in us. May is now described as "fresshe" for the last time as, presumably, the irony is becoming too heavy as well as being "bright and sheene", desirable to Damyan as well. She sighs and cleverly implies that she has the pregnant woman's sudden and intense desire (or pica) for a particular food, even the small green pears up the tree. By this means she manipulates January just as he originally wanted a wife he could mould and control, making the situation ironic. Her use of the word "appetit" is also ironic as she does have an appetite, but for Damyan not pears and the lexis in her account of her desire is powerful and convincing. January shows his love for her by his wish to co-operate and regrets he has no servant at hand to climb: this is strongly ironic as his servant has already climbed the tree with mischievous intent. His blindness prevents him from going up but she has the solution: he should clasp the trunk with his arms and she can use his back for her ascent to meet her lover so that her husband is, ironically, the direct means for her adultery. The visual image is so ludicrous that it is easy to overlook the pathos of January's willingness to help a wife he believes to be carrying his child.
The amalgam of pathos and comedy continues as January complies willingly, saying humbly and devotedly that he would help her with his heart's blood whilst presenting a ridiculous visual image as he bends over so that she can use his back as a step. Nimbly, she grasps a "twiste" [branch] and gets into the tree. Here the Merchant uses the device of diminutio or self-disparagement, excusing himself for his bluntness whilst giving his audience the titillation most of them want. Damyan springs suddenly into life once more and "Gan [this does not mean "began", merely "did"] pullen up the smok and in he throng [thrust]". This episode, along with most of the story involving May and Damyan, is a parody of the courtly love romantic convention. The rhyme "throng/wrong" passes from one part of the narrative, the fabliau element, to the next linking them as we become aware that there have been spectators of this crude incident, Pluto and Proserpina.
Now that January will receive his sight back, we await May's excuse as we know Proserpina will give her an answer. January has a moment of supreme joy when he can see but again is a sad figure as his first loving thought is of his wife. When he looks up into the tree he sees the copulation which the Merchant claims he cannot speak about directly without being crude although we recall that he has done just that. January's outcry is poignant as he cries as does a mother when her child dies, the simile suggesting that his fantasy of perfect love was a child of his imagination. His paradise has been ruined in a garden, an image of Eden. He sees May for what she is: a "stronge lady stoore" [a bold, crude woman] and roars at her in distress. She is a quick-witted liar and claims to be the instrument by which his sight was restored and urges patience and reason. Her preposterous claim that the only method of giving him his sight was to "struggle with a man upon a tree" at first fails to convince January who knows what he has seen: "ye algate in it wente" [it went in entirely] and therefore Damyan "swived" [copulated with] her fully which should bring mortal shame on them both. He speaks crudely but swears he should be hanged by the neck if mistaken; he is not easily deceived at this moment.
Knowing that Proserpina will not let her lose the battle of wits between the sexes, we wait for her further explanation which is clever enough but would not take in someone who did not half want to believe her. She laments that her cure was imperfect as he has not seen clearly and has blurred rather than perfect vision. He remains unconvinced but shows that he is harbouring doubts when he states more hesitantly: "me thoughte he dide thee so." May is a consummate actress and pretends to be hurt and offended at his ingratitude, claiming that he is bewildered ("Ye maze"). The word "kinde" is a form of pun on the meaning of "charitable", (towards January but towards Damyan as well) but also "of the same kind" as she has had sex with Damyan out of the same motive of lust as January had in marrying her. Since we perceive that January wants to be convinced we know the end of the Tale is in view. It has risen to a climax and can now be concluded swiftly by a skilled narrator.
January now accepts May's excuse, partly out of love, partly out of the desire for an easy life with her and partly because agreeing will make him less of a fool in the public eye than seeming a cuckold. He speaks to her affectionately and says they should "lat al passe out of mind", a theme in the Tale whereby it is prudent to overlook unpleasant matters, although he does say what he thought he saw which has the memorable and authentic detail of his vision of intercourse - her smock lifted for the purpose. The Merchant has a cynical side and knows that one must cover up at times. May has an even cleverer answer now as she points out that a person newly aroused from sleep does not see clearly, an analogy for January's sudden access of sight, and that he must wait a day or two until fully awake to be sure of what he sees. Meanwhile there may be other sights which will deceive him. This is much more convincing and sophisticated but we wonder what she has in mind for those couple of days and what she may try to get away with. She is telling him what he wants to hear at the same time as giving herself space for further meetings with Damyan and she embellishes her reasoning with a rather pompous sententia: "He that misconceyveth, he misdemeth" [He who misunderstands will misjudge] before another comically swift motion of jumping down.
Once again a rhyme "tree/he" links two parts of the narrative and ties in January's credulity to her adulterous presence in the tree. He is now mentally blind once more but gains our sympathy as his love for her is real and not a fantasy. It is difficult to know if he believes her or merely wants to but he kisses and embraces her often and strokes her belly where he thinks the child resides, the alliteration on 's' adding to the gentle way he does this. Once again there is pathos in the old man's desire for happiness and we have little doubt that there will be other actions to overlook in the future. There is no repulsive physical description of him here as there was earlier to arouse our hostility. He has restored his own paradise by his willingness to be deceived. The Merchant now brings his Tale to a neat end, almost abruptly as if he is relieved the task is over.
He has told a story which is basically a fabliau but he has added some psychological realism, a mythical element, satire on courtly love, a happy if deluded ending and a contribution to the discussion of marriage, particularly in response to the Clerk and Wife of Bath. Each of these components is intended to please some of the pilgrims and we must remember he is a man used to striking bargains and wants to win the prize. If the contest were to take place he would be a contender as he is a comparatively skilled narrator who never loses the pace and track of his plot and knows how to control his material.
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