... I do you mo to wit,
The geese y-roasted on the spit,
Flee to that abbey, God it wot,
And gredith “Geese all hot! all hot!” [cry
Hi bringeth garlek, great plentee,
The best y-dight that man may see.
The leverokes that beth couth [larks, well-known
Lieth adown to manis mouth;
Y-dight in stew full swithe well, [quickly
Powder’d with gingelofre and canell.

The writer, having set his monks in the midst of this abundance of good things, proceeds to describe their daily life. When they go to mass, he says, the glass windows turn into bright crystal to give them more light, and when the mass is ended and the books are laid away again, the crystal turns back again into glass:

The young monkes each day
After meat goeth to play;
N’is there hawk, no fowl so swift,
Better fleeing by the lift,
Than the monkes, high of mood,
With their sleeves and their hood.
When the abbot seeth them flee,
That he holds for much glee,
Ac natheless, all there among,
He biddeth them light to evesong.

And if the monks pursue for too long their airy gambols, he recalls them by means of an improvised drum, the nature of which is best not indicated to a more squeamish generation. Then the monks alight in a flock and so “wend meekly home to drink,” in a fair procession.

So far the Paradise has been without an Eve. But the author will provide these jolly monks with companions worthy of their humour:

Another abbey is thereby,
Forsooth a great fair nunnery:
Up a river of sweet milk,
Where is plenty great of silk.
When the summer’s day is hot,
The young nunnes taketh a boat,
And doth them forth in that river,
Both with oarés and with steer.
When they beth far from the abbey
They maketh them naked for to play,
And lieth down into the brim,
And doth them slily for to swim.
The young monks that hi seeeth, [them
They doth them up and forth they fleeeth,
And cometh to the nuns anon.
And each monke him taketh one,
And snellich beareth forth their prey [quickly
To the mochil grey abbey,
And teacheth the nuns an orison
With jambleue up and down. [gambols

The monk that acquits him best among the ladies may have twelve wives in a year, if he will, and if he can outdo all his companions

Of him is hope, God is wot,
To be soon father abbot!

But whoever will come to this delectable country must first serve a hard penance; seven years must he wade in swines’ muck up to the chin ere he win there. Fair and courteous lordings, good luck to you in the test!

More of a fairy tale than a satire, this jovial and good humoured poem was immensely popular in the middle ages. Another thirteenth century lampoon on the monastic orders, written in French in the reign of Edward I, is less well known, possibly because its satire, while still essentially gay, is more obvious than that of The Land of Cokaygne. The poem is known as L’Ordre de Bel-Eyse[1618]. The author has had the happy idea (not however a new one)[1619] of combining all the characteristic vices of the different orders into one glorious Order of Fair Ease, to which belong many a gentleman and many a fair lady, but no ribald nor peasant. From the Order of Sempringham it borrows one custom, that of having brothers and sisters together, but while at Sempringham there must be between them (“a thing which displeases many”) ditches and high walls, in the Order of Fair Ease there must be no wall and no watchword to prevent the brethren from visiting the sisters at their pleasure; their intimacy must be separated by nothing, says this precursor of Rabelais, not by linen nor wool, nor even by their skins! And all who enter the order must feast well and in company, thrice a day and oftener. From the canons of Beverley they have taken the custom of drinking well at their meat and long afterwards (the pun is on bever, to drink), from the Hospitallers that of going clad in long robes and elegant shoes, riding upon great palfreys that amble well. From the Canons they borrow the habit of eating meat, but whereas the canons eat it thrice a week these brethren are bound to eat it daily. From the Black Monks (as from the canons of Beverley) they take their heavy drinking, and if a brother be visited by a friend who shall know how to carouse in the evening, he shall sleep late in the morning (for the sake of his eyesight), till the evil fumes have issued from his head. From the secular Canons (“who willingly serve the ladies”) they have taken a rule which is more needful than any other to solace the brethren—that each brother must make love to a sister before and after matins; a point which is elaborated with cheerful indecency, under the guise of borrowing from the Grey Monks their manner of saying prayers. From the Carthusians they take the custom of shutting each monk up in his cell to repose himself, with fair plants on his window-ledge for his solace, and his sister between his arms. The Friars Minor are founded in poverty, which they seek by lodging ever with the chief baron, or knight, or churchman of the countryside, where they can have their full; and so must the brethren of Fair Ease do likewise. The Preachers go preaching in shoes and if they are footsore they ride at ease on horseback; but the brethren of Fair Ease are vowed always to ride, and always they must preach within doors and after they have dined. This is our Order of Fair Ease; he who breaks it shall be chastised and he who makes good use of it shall be raised to the dignity of abbot or prior to hold it in honour, for thus do the Augustine canons, who know so many devices. Now ends our Order, which agrees with all good orders, and may it please many all too well![1620]