Tis the season of student loans so on this note, here is poem of dear Chaucer to his purse:

To yow, my purse, and to noon other wight
Complayne I, for ye be my lady dere.
I am so sory, now that ye been lyght;
For certes but yf ye make me hevy chere,
Me were as leef be layd upon my bere;
For which unto your mercy thus I crye,
Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye.

(To you, my purse, and to no other creature I lament, for you are my lady dear. I am so sorry now that you are light! Surely, unless you make me heavier cheer, I may as well be laid upon my bier. Therefore unto your mercy thus I cry--be heavy again, or else surely I must die.)

Now voucheth sauf this day or hyt be nyght
That I of yow the blisful soun may here
Or see your colour lyk the sonne bryght
That of yelownesse hadde never pere.
Ye be my lyf, ye be myn hertes stere.
Quene of comfort and of good companye,
Beth hevy ageyn, or elles moot I dye.

(Promise this day, before it may ever be night, that I may hear the blessed clanking of you, or see your color like the bright sunshine, that never yet has had a peer in terms of yellowness. You are my life, only you, queen of content and of good company, steers my heart, be heavy again, or else surely I must die.)

Now purse that ben to me my lyves lyght
And saveour as doun in this world here,
Out of this toune helpe me thurgh your myght,
Syn that ye wole nat ben my tresorere;
For I am shave as nye as any frere.
But yet I pray unto your curtesye,
Beth hevy agen, or elles moot I dye.

(Now, purse, who are to me my life's one light, my life's one savior, down in this world here, help me out of this city through your might, since you refuse to be my treasurer. For I am clipped like priest or an austere monk. But yet I pray you of your courtesy, be heavy again, or else surely I must die.)

Lenvoy de Chaucer
O conquerour of Brutes Albyoun
Which that by line and free eleccioun
Been verray king, this song to yow I sende,
And ye that mowen alle oure harmes amende
Have minde upon my supplicacioun

(O conqueror of the isle of Brut's Albion, who, through your lineage, are King of it, and our free choice, this song to you I send; set your mind, you who can all our woes amend, upon this little flower from Helicon)

Notes 
Image, Gorleston Psalter, BL Add MS 49622, f. 142r

f. 142r:  detail of a marginal scene of a monk offering money to a woman - See more at: http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2012/10/more-gorleston-psalter-virility-profane-images-in-a-sacred-space.html#sthash.3fKe6Hsm.dpuf

Original text:
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/mect/mect81.htm

Modern text:
http://ummutility.umm.maine.edu/necastro/chaucer/translation/short/short.html

Some background on the poem:
http://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2009/feb/02/complaint-chaucer-purse-poetry

Early sanctuary

A diversion into the realms of medieval sanctuary laws today.

To begin with, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the concept of sanctuary:

Sanctuary was a tricky issue for law makers over the centuries and even the Romans attempted to control who could claim it in the 390s. The introduction of churches and more permanent sacral spaces, as opposed to groves and temples, seems to have brought the problem to the fore. Yet in the Aeneid, Vergil recounts outrage at the use of a temple of Juno by Roman soldiers to store captives and loot as the temple was a refuge “from which no one can be dragged out to punishment”.

For the early Christians, the right of the clergy to intercede in matters (in return for penance) was understood. Yet the ascribing of this right to a particular space took hold rather slowly as fixed locations were still associated with pagan worship (temples, groves etc.). By the fifth century however, the church had become associated with the protection of sanctuary.

This right was restricted by various laws and attempts to control it over the centuries. Following the Roman examples, the protection of debtors and slaves formed the basis of medieval sanctuary rules across Europe. This led pursuers of sanctuary seekers to seek other ways to wriggle around the right of sanctuary.

In the sixth century, Gregory of Tours recalls the case of a male and female slave who had run away and sought sanctuary, and marriage, in a church. Their  lords demanded the return of the slaves and the priest informed him: 

“You know the respect due to the Church….You will not be able to receive your slaves back unless you give faith regarding the permanence of their union”

They were also not to be punished upon their return. Their lord swore that this would be so and that the slaves would not be parted. 

What their lord actually did however was:

“(He) returned to his house, and straightway ordered a tree to be cut down. Then he ordered the trunk to be opened with wedges and hollowed out, and a hole to be made in the ground to the depth of three or four feet, and the trunk to be placed therein. Then placing the girl as if she were dead, he ordered the slave to be thrown on top of her. And when the cover had been placed upon the trunk he filled the grave and buried them both alive, saying, "I have not broken my oath and I have not separated them.”

Not a nice chap. 

 

Notes

Aenidos Librorum I-V Commentarii, ed. G. Thilo and H. Hagen (Hildesheim: George Olms, 1961), books 2, line 761

Gregory of Tours extract:

http://legacy.fordham.edu/halsall/source/575Rauching.asp

Shoemaker, Karl, Sanctuary and crime in the European middle ages, 400-1500 (Ashland, Ohio: Fordham University Press, 2011)

Drink moderately

Stepping backwards towards what can be loosely referred to as the early middle ages (or Dark Ages if you want to make a historian twitch), I present to you some advice from Odin himself on the importance of moderation when drinking. This 'poem' comes from the Hávamál ("The words of the High One"), a 9/10th century text which survives in a thirteenth century copy. I say 9/10th, but it is generally accepted by modern scholars that much of the text is actually earlier, but the Vikings were not a bookish people so we're left make our own guesses from later generations' recordings.

This advice is particularly apt today as I'm meeting up with friends this weekend and plan to completely disregard this sound advice.

“A man should not hold on to the ale-cup

But drink moderately from it.

Spare of speech he should be, or silent.

No man will accuse you of ill manners

For going too early to bed.

The glutton, unless he keeps himself in check,

Will eat himself to death.

Often a fool’s belly brings him to scorn

When he comes among men of sense.

Cattle know when to return to the fold

And then they leave their pasture.

But a stupid man can never guage

The full extent of his belly.”

Notes

Hávamál, Poetic Edda, ed. D. Evans (London: Viking Society for Northern Research Text Series 7, 1986) vv 19-21

Page, R., Chronicles of the Vikings : records, memorials and myths (London: British Museum Press, 1995)p. 142