“No, no,” said Aurelius, sadly; and he told him all that had happened.
The magician answered, “Dear friend, every one of you has behaved honourably. Thou art a squire, and he is a knight, but a simple clerk can do a gentle deed, as well as any of you! Sir, I release you from your thousand pounds: I will not take a penny from you.” And he took his horse and rode away.
Chaucer winds up by saying—
Lordynges, this questioun wold I axe now—ask
Which was the moste free, as thinketh yow?liberal
Masters, a little question answer me—
Which one was the most generous of the three?
And you, tell me which you think was the most honourable in keeping faith, and most generous in giving up his rights.
But beware of the folly that Dorigene committed, in making rash promises; for when you make a promise you must be prepared to keep it, and cannot always expect to be let off as she was.
Notes by the Way.
One of the most interesting illustrations of the singular morality which was the outcome of woman’s transition state from a position of slavery to one of equality with man, is to be found in this curious but beautiful tale: a tale which in any other age could scarcely have been popular. The Franklin tells us it was an old Breton lay; which, however, is now not known to exist.
It is seen that woman, from being regarded as a mere chattel, like horse or dog, came to be unnaturally exalted; and, as new movements often outshoot their mark and go too far, she came to be held as something god-like and ideal, the moving spring of all heroic virtues. Valour, courtesy, self-control, obedience, were taught by her, and she could give no higher guerdon than herself. (See note to ‘Knight’s Tale,’ [p. 45].)
It is the young and inexperienced hound which outruns the scent, not the fully trained dog, and we must remember that society had then the virtues and vices of immaturity. The Franklin’s Tale, with its pathos and earnestness, passing at times into burlesque, is as quaint and instructive as an early effigy on some cathedral door.