Words: Lylie's Pelican

Brunissende de Broceliande did the calligraphy and illumination for this scroll, with scenes including Lylie in court and a bedroom scene for her interest in period bedrooms. Lylie's persona is late 14th-century English, so I returned to 1380's Chaucer for this scroll. Lylie is another of the Wyves of the Oaken Glen, so I used The Wife of Bath from Canterbury Tales as my main source. My need for Middle English words extended beyond one tale, though, so I borrowed from throughout the 'Tales.

For help with pronunciation, I used mostly this guide, including its sound file of the Canterbury Tales Prologue near the page bottom. There was another source, but it seems to have gone offline.

SCROLL TEXT Lylie of Penhyll's Pelican: Middle English version (Modern English version below) In th'olde dayes of the right Kyng Hanse, Of which that Estren folk speken as grand, All was this land fulfild of saluyng In song and word they were rehersyng For gentils newe to hir compaignye To revel ful ofte in hir melodye. Oon swich lady, swete Lylie of Penhyll, To sondry folk in nede made wist hir wyl To go ful swithe the regne up and doun Hem avaylyng, and she niste renoun, Blessynge halles, listes, kichenes, boures, Burghes, castels, gates, and toures With her laboures, for to fynde grace, And fro hir love for ech thyng fynde a place. Edward King, and Marguerite our Queene, Fro hir right laboures ful rekene That come twenty and nyne, the Roses day, When mede lylies inspiren month of May, Forty and fyve our yere, Saint Winebald feste, We shal make a Pelican of the Este. This decree a leveful Pere warente. We give hir arms by lettres patente: Per pale azure and argent, a fleur-de-lys per pale argent and azure and a bordure semy-de-lys counterchanged. With swich answere as We wolde yow purveye, Ful fayn take leve, and wende forth youre weye. Lylie of Penhyll's Pelican: Modern English version In the old days of the good King Hanse, Of which many Eastern folk speak as grand, All was this land a land of greeting In song and word they were rehearsing For gentles new to their company To revel oftentimes in their melody. One such lady, sweet Lylie of Penhyll, To sundry folk in need made known her will To go swiftly the kingdom up and down Helping them, and she knew not renown, Blessing halls, lists, kitchens, bowers, Burghs, castles, gates, and towers With her labors, to find her own grace, And from her love, for each thing find a place. Edward King, and Marguerite our Queen, From her right labors, have bid and seen That come the twenty-ninth, the Roses day, When valley lilies inspire the month of May, Forty-five our year, and Saint Winebald feast, We shall make a Pelican of the East. This decree a lawful Peer warrants. We give her these arms by letters patent: Per pale azure and argent, a fleur-de-lys per pale argent and azure and a bordure semy-de-lys counterchanged. With such answer as We would you purvey, Full glad take leave, and wend forth your way.

SOURCE TEXT The Wife of Bath from Canterbury Tales Geoffrey Chaucer, 1380s English In th'olde dayes of the Kyng Arthour, Of which that Britons speken greet honour, All was this land fulfild of fayerye. The elf-queene, with hir joly compaignye, Daunced ful ofte in many a grene mede. This was the olde opinion, as I rede; I speke of manye hundred yeres ago. But now kan no man se none elves mo, For now the grete charitee and prayeres Of lymytours and othere hooly freres, That serchen every lond and every streem, As thikke as motes in the sonne-beem, Blessynge halles, chambres, kichenes, boures, Citees, burghes, castels, hye toures, Thropes, bernes, shipnes, dayeryes, This maketh that ther been no fayeryes. For ther as wont to walken was an elf, Ther walketh now the lymytour hymself In undermeles and in morwenynges, And seyth his matyns and his hooly thynges As he gooth in his lymytacioun. Wommen may go saufly up and doun. In every bussh or under every tree Ther is noon oother incubus but he, And he ne wol doon hem but dishonour. And so bifel it that this kyng Arthour Hadde in his hous a lusty bacheler, That on a day cam ridynge fro ryver; And happed that, allone as she was born, He saugh a mayde walkynge hym biforn, Of whiche mayde anon, maugree hir heed, By verray force he rafte hir maydenhed; For which oppressioun was swich clamour And swich pursute unto the kyng Arthour, That dampned was this knyght for to be deed, By cours of lawe, and sholde han lost his heed - Paraventure, swich was the statut tho - But that the queene and othere ladyes mo So longe preyeden the kyng of grace, Til he his lyf hym graunted in the place, And yaf hym to the queene al at hir wille, To chese wheither she wolde hym save or spille. The queene thanketh the kyng with al hir myght, And after this thus spak she to the knyght, Whan that she saugh hir tyme, upon a day, "Thou standest yet," quod she, "in swich array That of thy lyf yet hastow no suretee. I grante thee lyf, if thou kanst tellen me What thyng is it that wommen moost desiren. Be war and keep thy nekke-boon from iren! And if thou kanst nat tellen it anon, Yet shal I yeve thee leve for to gon A twelf-month and a day to seche and leere An answere suffisant in this mateere; And suretee wol I han, er that thou pace, Thy body for to yelden in this place." Wo was this knyght, and sorwefully he siketh; But what! He may nat do al as hym liketh. And at the laste he chees hym for to wende, And come agayn right at the yeres ende, With swich answere as God wolde hym purveye; And taketh his leve, and wendeth forth his weye. He seketh every hous and every place Where as he hopeth for to fynde grace To lerne what thyng wommen loven moost; But he ne koude arryven in no coost Wher as he myghte fynde in this mateere Two creatures accordynge in-feere.