Pearl: Part 9

Book: www.lulu.com/shop/giles-watson/pearl/paperback/product-20...

 

Reading: www.youtube.com/watch?v=UEpznzwazbk

 

The story so far: The Dreamer loses his Pearl in a grassy mound - evidently her grave. He swoons with grief, and awakens in an earthly paradise, through which there runs a beautiful stream. The land on the opposite bank seems even more beautiful. He wanders further down the stream, hoping to find a bridge or a ford. Just when he starts to become afraid of the dangers that may be in store for him, he sees a young woman sitting at the foot of a crystal cliff on the opposite bank, and instantly recognises her as his lost Pearl. He hails his Pearl and expresses his relief that she still exists, but she begins to reprove him for his lack of faith. She criticises him for only believing that her soul is immortal now that he can see her, and is shocked by his suggestion that he - a mortal man - has a hope of joining her in Paradise without first experiencing death. He tells her that for him to walk away from her now that he has found her again would be to suffer a fresh bereavement. She replies that it is divinely decreed that he cannot cross over to her. The Dreamer pleads with his Pearl to accept that his rash questions were borne out of his great grief, and asks her to describe her life in Paradise. She relents, and tells him that she is crowned Queen of Heaven, and is married to the Lamb. The Dreamer is shocked by this assertion. He says that he thought only the Virgin Mary was Queen of Heaven. Pearl replies with a description of a-semi egalitarian heaven in which all inhabitants are kings and queens, and asserts that although Mary has pre-eminence, none of those in heaven would ever question it, because she is so “courteous”. She cites the Pauline notion that the church is the body of Christ in support of her claim. The Dreamer is even less convinced than before.

 

Pearl: Part 9

 

“That Courteous One is too loose of hand,

If it is true, this thing you say.

You spent not two years in the land

Of the living: never learnt to pray

Or please God with Paternoster, or stand

For the Creed. A Queen – on the first day?

How can I trust or understand

A God who conveniently wriggles away

From justice? Can his mercy stray

So far, to elevate a babe’s estate

To countess, or lady of lesser array?

He made you Queen? Upon what date?”

 

“Does goodness care for dates and measures?”

The lovely, ghostly girl enquires,

“For truth’s in every thing he makes,

And justice rules all his desires.

As Matthew’s gospel at the Mass

Tells you – and any man who hears –

In a parable. Only fools could miss

Its moral. Heaven hides in words.

I reign on high. Here’s how it works:

A lord has a vineyard. As fate

Would have it, the fruit of his vines

Is ripe for harvest: the right date.

 

His labourers know the date and time;

The lord arises with the sun

To hire men to pluck the vine

And, in the town, engages some.

They accept his terms: ‘You’re mine

For a penny a day.’ And so they come

To the vineyard. They labour in line,

Plucking and picking with finger and thumb.

Three hours pass. Other men stand dumb

In the marketplace. ‘Why do you wait?’

He cries, ‘My grapes are ripe! Hurry! Run!

Do you know the day? Do you know the date?’

 

‘We know the date. That’s why we came

Here long before the dawn,’ they say.

‘We stood here watching the sun climb

And thought there was no work today.’

‘Go to my vineyard – do what you can!’

Says the lord, and pledges their pay,

Agrees it firmly, man to man:

‘Your wage is fixed now, come what may.’

They work the vineyard; he goes his way

To find more workers. Harvest won’t wait

For loafers. It is a race against waning day.

The sun hangs low. Nearly the end of the date.

 

So the day is dating. It is evensong,

An hour before the dark comes down.

Still the lord finds more: idle men, but strong,

And says to them, not hiding his frown,

‘Why have you loitered this whole day long?’

‘We looked for work – none could be found.’

‘Go to my vineyard, yeomen!’ A throng

Now tread his loamy ground

As dusky shadows gather round.

The sun sinks. The hour grows late.

He pays them all: men of market, town.

It is done. The end of that date.”

 

Late fourteenth century poem, written in a north-west midland dialect of Middle English, paraphrased by Giles Watson. At last it is revealed that Pearl died at less than two years of age, although she is resurrected as an adult woman. Pearl’s story of the labourers in the vineyard is derived from Christ’s parable in Matthew 20:1-16, but her telling of it is distinctly mediaeval in tone. In the next section, she will reveal that the lord paid all of his workers a penny, no matter how many hours they worked: a justification for the fact that she is now a Queen in heaven, despite only having suffered life on earth for two years. The concatenation on the word "date" (it is the same word in Middle English) involves some complex semantics, since at different stages of the narrative, the word can mean "date", "point of time", "hour of the day", and "limit".

 

The picture shows the tomb of Elizabeth Theresa Agnes Rollo, born June 23rd 1874; died September 1st 1875, Brading Church, Isle of Wight.

 

Done