<%BANNER%>

Aural Ekphrasis and Statian Sound in Chaucer's Temple of Mars

xml version 1.0 encoding UTF-8
REPORT xmlns http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitss xmlns:xsi http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance xsi:schemaLocation http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitssdaitssReport.xsd
INGEST IEID E20110404_AAAACO INGEST_TIME 2011-04-04T16:35:20Z PACKAGE UFE0014349_00001
AGREEMENT_INFO ACCOUNT UF PROJECT UFDC
FILES
FILE SIZE 8423998 DFID F20110404_AABWAR ORIGIN DEPOSITOR PATH leitner_v_Page_25.tif GLOBAL false PRESERVATION BIT MESSAGE_DIGEST ALGORITHM MD5
568f5940ec1bbf3b6b22af6cd3cf96b2
SHA-1
4e2cc5a454179326352296224c32c8f3dea4263f
2251 F20110404_AABVTT leitner_v_Page_11.txt
41867785b8b9aa254243b92c70031990
6884f9b78037cd0bd9596e474196bf33848ea2cd
2165 F20110404_AABWFO leitner_v_Page_10.txt
22ab0677774bb252a87651bfade5fabf
6f309e9724c9990351ed7daedadee7b8cbe047a3
59354 F20110404_AABVYR leitner_v_Page_55.pro
e8c46809156d3688fd987daa2272ea41
c2347461cab11ac8a6a1db02d845cb419a33ed12
F20110404_AABWAS leitner_v_Page_30.tif
3fb48bd927f5ab4038d0132ab07216af
2c93cd0d87aabc05cc6e9ddeab18ffd25d936aef
88233 F20110404_AABVTU leitner_v_Page_49.jpg
63bf1b4dd6ee5dec88daae1871446ddc
70b4a138df9e20bd3c5a99c102c74bc1c5cd61b5
1994 F20110404_AABWFP leitner_v_Page_13.txt
6efb3a733e6b0385e2a62033f7ae8c02
1fd30922071b0303722a22cba3f32cf27db13ef7
26569 F20110404_AABVYS leitner_v_Page_63.QC.jpg
7fe5b67b333629074113a2de9e2a9d31
c40b51d85253cc33f67115d23d576d7ba14d3e83
F20110404_AABWAT leitner_v_Page_33.tif
c9f766f34d4741f429143b67d2433de8
58054afa312208fd62f3d077f0c5613d38d27b67
1051985 F20110404_AABVTV leitner_v_Page_57.jp2
473e1d257a0a5eac0e525720db898159
9739995b8941f72661dddaf87c2d7e768f71fd8e
2567 F20110404_AABWFQ leitner_v_Page_17.txt
88a5ff02a7f95ea6e9a5b4d78b8b5e0c
dfe1d71119723af9b674c8e10391af48b87f16de
F20110404_AABVYT leitner_v_Page_61.tif
2b145f96c724a5cc10a0516982e09292
6ab96a2d964557b3fd54824b4ea84a2a34732a94
F20110404_AABWAU leitner_v_Page_34.tif
2ee1da7317e6c612a9201678352bc67f
5264093455729a214756722b898405a60943ab2b
1929 F20110404_AABVTW leitner_v_Page_58.txt
983b7866aeece14cd31f8d479007e693
bb3d15ef493f25c091e854e70d8750b49f1ae534
2131 F20110404_AABWFR leitner_v_Page_21.txt
f0f017f0c234dd79dcd5ac888a4165a4
4df50a03e9f1b23019a36b824007e911d0e59764
27176 F20110404_AABVYU leitner_v_Page_34.QC.jpg
7179a2f184e2e094de2a76564a63ddea
1d97bf87f18428e2417e829aca7860e993852826
F20110404_AABWAV leitner_v_Page_35.tif
45e73d64d4c24daa0547ebe881aed25e
ec6ec4a03eeafc1c2bee5834ad32ae2e509cff69
F20110404_AABVTX leitner_v_Page_64.tif
36f5174f79c2a843244be97a9e9ce29c
0cb0c864b6e5dfe4ef31cb26963985b17d7317bf
1084 F20110404_AABWFS leitner_v_Page_22.txt
2fc71da07f79af62b654358d94e1200f
6ae3f51dae2d0dc30218d1b3990953fa14d52efe
1051780 F20110404_AABVYV leitner_v_Page_40.jp2
38e97d0ef92624165b754e7bb062ed59
11a0f11e16e0c5994aadd98637309d71ba14aa37
F20110404_AABWAW leitner_v_Page_36.tif
32cccd32cf40e2cecda0dbe1589ad66c
c619da8eb005ed2628b3c7afdc62f284d1e78707
51758 F20110404_AABVRA leitner_v_Page_32.pro
9176e2644f986c1b3c25c0ba5adf3896
5b683119390dbac2213c270d2262b4b1fc9fc450
57884 F20110404_AABVTY leitner_v_Page_40.pro
0a60cf2e97c9677b5f7aa31513421114
46be3496b644f9eed5a4985ec10e2ce2d5596a9c
2159 F20110404_AABWFT leitner_v_Page_24.txt
5a87f4bdd6166b88fa06e5a4fdf59261
9e4d50e1850e892ca6a0c970a118ca1ebd30ab15
26163 F20110404_AABVYW leitner_v_Page_16.QC.jpg
bead48989620e6a5042f8cfddf65665c
e4b15029ba44a04773891e7e1dd8ecfb3d9f472e
F20110404_AABWAX leitner_v_Page_40.tif
829d2b5c157f23b94536a95ac73edbd2
0c0b323b8176aef36f50064be02660786c49ac04
F20110404_AABVRB leitner_v_Page_16.tif
4eb323bb1b6df86edcdf59264249a8cc
cc18687f2e26d69e572b0eb3c544bb579fe3a543
5134 F20110404_AABVTZ leitner_v_Page_61thm.jpg
667ab599f487a171621b6a2dc014baa5
3cb67fd51af2c6d400a6e2191426983b015a6277
1954 F20110404_AABWFU leitner_v_Page_27.txt
50677eb31aae4cf670e88aafcbd64420
8c2e6f27b8ee50da7d54e25994bdbe375bd2c809
24815 F20110404_AABVYX leitner_v_Page_41.QC.jpg
2051510b9fcca44dafcbac00dad1e3d8
11e5c958ea758c03d3c9afb4d09d9827101dfdc6
24406 F20110404_AABVRC leitner_v_Page_50.QC.jpg
fad3b175d0650e04e966d48a7fec830c
46d4ee38ba91a960c1321b451124722d3cc9edd1
1968 F20110404_AABWFV leitner_v_Page_31.txt
005dc5e134f1514683bd574f80d1d4ed
d9020abcbdb4072b9d7a18e7823bea14241b6de4
7608 F20110404_AABVYY leitner_v_Page_37.jpg
cb62fe8b38e5f7915a787f3d7ea0f2e9
628c90e403af79d11282a4e6f15985e7fe52cbf2
F20110404_AABWAY leitner_v_Page_41.tif
7ce30e74eb06f3bcadfe9277323d540b
cad7b7ec1dbd89e3f8a2041d8cf787f662fecfc6
5043 F20110404_AABVRD leitner_v_Page_39thm.jpg
cdf42dfb996583b2acc84e5aa7248281
8c225844acbe3767ccd193b70640c0f1185b53e7
2068 F20110404_AABWFW leitner_v_Page_33.txt
8cef70183fee7f865c773f86d2a1c073
c98e73d70e0adc473bb46c4fa898ceb79c4faeee
156 F20110404_AABVWA leitner_v_Page_60.txt
892b92b1b9e3a37d5433d0d10d6b0872
fd85dd4377edeac798ec9531c4e1b28b281949e9
6670 F20110404_AABVYZ leitner_v_Page_62thm.jpg
75db73a9c658135ee8380555fa3e2321
72cb8021305caf8da030b2bf9f9a416bd7741db5
F20110404_AABWAZ leitner_v_Page_43.tif
27487ea684a5931cedc74c8083f6b125
c809783ed782fc0b84d6e712cd1afba351f3d54f
F20110404_AABVRE leitner_v_Page_32.tif
773a60b59b362e696d305e926cc72b2b
7981979e9adc5aca74708b0fe58714dd018500e1
2236 F20110404_AABWFX leitner_v_Page_34.txt
a13ce2c097783016bc377075a4a06734
f34728b2de17dd21f347af7a8f66fda8b8c0dd3d
1012419 F20110404_AABVWB leitner_v_Page_29.jp2
1dfd6c46432d6cf0236504b676526931
558d38c3730d943c7eef0d111e9a4daefd83abb8
49574 F20110404_AABVRF leitner_v_Page_24.pro
27df4753105f104f0a4e34d1ad8e6b22
4de4f9791f73416c04220df5971371715af358dc
1974 F20110404_AABWFY leitner_v_Page_36.txt
51fdf80015eecf734084c860b5b91ef9
2fc0896a3c44ec7f198aaa091e14f91db6d5e61e
46806 F20110404_AABVWC leitner_v_Page_56.pro
ea91c155ed7a6baae58ec6f8ca111689
04ef1850437c527df57d88a36554e6ab0fb25019
1889 F20110404_AABWFZ leitner_v_Page_38.txt
ac9e09c6849d28dcb3d1f15feb0ed756
ac503c49c2683cabbf1fb67cced1f382856be62e
923734 F20110404_AABVRG leitner_v_Page_48.jp2
2627dca49db4b3b841ba8ed8f4856aaf
5e1e675140ee88920b44ba142d14ba6a506c3728
26810 F20110404_AABWDA leitner_v_Page_43.QC.jpg
e6837826d0b94b4354e612dcd35b0ca1
a2bb631cec1ff8be55d7978660525244d85de6e9
2071 F20110404_AABVWD leitner_v_Page_64.txt
0c9114c12c1b470b60a88ba9234c3952
7d178c08ae25658669cb918de8ac4e4650250e4a
1051934 F20110404_AABVRH leitner_v_Page_12.jp2
b6aee83f190bb47308557f3b51889c94
7802dae01dccb78a76b8b32d9d30d16cb8eeba07
75704 F20110404_AABWDB leitner_v_Page_44.jpg
7c8c6682ce97fdff0b25b6d805f9ddb6
6f25d17012f43ffddfb80209dd084e1127513131
93429 F20110404_AABVWE leitner_v_Page_04.jp2
0d760869205c90bfae8a53f7b9ff59ac
f9a14cf13e7f5cffbe881eb81a94dc5550e3c19e
2121 F20110404_AABVRI leitner_v_Page_59.txt
deb7fe11b9c952bd79fa3bed3e5f1c0e
d2f96975a9efa2214c8fd6b3db85d3d007a83ada
26670 F20110404_AABWDC leitner_v_Page_45.QC.jpg
889819090f37761bd98d01b139ce2cc1
178a1424d9804ebb3a6f69f016a56488c101eeae
68861 F20110404_AABVWF leitner_v_Page_53.jpg
db107ee903f69e649db26004588b449e
d05bac7b2242493495242e5f7b0416587a177692
5684 F20110404_AABWIA leitner_v_Page_30thm.jpg
78ed7bf74ec4d6bf3b05545ab2dd1077
02e03d57597178f61864f7661149760dd6e1d89a
27649 F20110404_AABVRJ leitner_v_Page_05.pro
2d7184e3ee643137c6b89c69caa06aa4
961513e4cdd3ac80fe6b077e827dd6175e320f4c
77051 F20110404_AABWDD leitner_v_Page_46.jpg
4f73daa5beed7d8e38a70af786b01395
8df7f6e22ae3d56b072eff13141745cc336fbc1b
2145 F20110404_AABVWG leitner_v_Page_49.txt
403328c7c9f29f015fb4e016dfb00f27
065bfa4a86ea84d8749d0cbe91b6052298a00bf6
6415 F20110404_AABWIB leitner_v_Page_31thm.jpg
6e2de561308df43ab85ef8d57cf36198
064840972a531d3f679db8b318b6c6c0391cfd2f
23624 F20110404_AABWDE leitner_v_Page_46.QC.jpg
5ab4d97ac76ee4ccc0c7be9b636c3f67
1470d11e76381c1f1e8fa772c9322b80f3bc2ab8
F20110404_AABVWH leitner_v_Page_23.tif
f1d714edee2de07b6f446d3214f93fc5
666ae95154f31ac7e50c1494228d3e7db241d592
5827 F20110404_AABWIC leitner_v_Page_36thm.jpg
d86c0e33a1934f054f4c6da95b2ff55c
24f715e49f3b5f21f94675cfd30d6d9693841cde
494 F20110404_AABVRK leitner_v_Page_03.pro
39b631db04f1252ab7bde49d950a7428
0ec9f19e4bdec894e0ca90eac94f93f2f512f901
80600 F20110404_AABWDF leitner_v_Page_47.jpg
a1a2acfca20f395b3c5b0b882b8dd496
3f28751004b85538e5b183c2668ce55800b64a79
2013 F20110404_AABVWI leitner_v_Page_19.txt
481ec919ee5ad3b9facc2878ffa3b97d
756e2d6fbd72679f75e406d5eb3d310affd28018
789 F20110404_AABWID leitner_v_Page_37thm.jpg
24788b6cf34cf72957826df49a9bac00
85a50431893a867d4164ebda5cb59a79264646c3
1051873 F20110404_AABVRL leitner_v_Page_25.jp2
eb30f78c9ff040e9f4db522edefdd41d
8aab07f39ddd538b164dc442cf0171dda71e74f3
69590 F20110404_AABWDG leitner_v_Page_48.jpg
ace4002b9b06a3edcf79474099297626
60874e32ab9cb613a61a3a60942d6f8c80aa6d47
26787 F20110404_AABVWJ leitner_v_Page_08.QC.jpg
a4be3c6240c1c53b4aca1b7072e92a61
467ebc9702668c128ac8784374a355dfbb22e43b
5231 F20110404_AABWIE leitner_v_Page_38thm.jpg
bd8b39e2111335eadb7e9c61c860b358
619fe86dce06a133e6aedb1da224198c04d850de
55308 F20110404_AABVRM leitner_v_Page_10.pro
0408d7cbf9223a97726badd817ec5df6
46002d99983a557f3b4f47d1bd03b1f15f2ed614
26960 F20110404_AABWDH leitner_v_Page_49.QC.jpg
0cdcfacf3dfe4418b72e875934e63d74
6bce094ff01cf80765da60edf7b319498e61a1f5
51077 F20110404_AABVWK leitner_v_Page_35.pro
54ae5a741458f393d3adb01a0f438613
232a3937113ae91d5536c1d4544c026718affae4
5556 F20110404_AABWIF leitner_v_Page_40thm.jpg
f1b45e2e5ade6640b7d6fc545cf4de9d
0e45bf6237c81f22c9662d916496c2fa1ec831b3
88888 F20110404_AABVRN leitner_v_Page_09.jpg
7ae35f55a253264495306e13579bdc65
e55fd29d3dc7756ab09f0d6744815302744b4497
80291 F20110404_AABWDI leitner_v_Page_50.jpg
725cba5e901d43e2671ee95bbf238b87
ae6ec66865fccd4f235d3460a3b033a57718ae86
24264 F20110404_AABVWL leitner_v_Page_52.QC.jpg
b98e78088aa5fe8c66e7dfd0e1e601a2
44ef6ca0d5a6c2cb4a93caec66cbc5279dfc22cb
6099 F20110404_AABWIG leitner_v_Page_41thm.jpg
2ca28eba708f0750f807dd326583c90f
e79428fc836c0d5ef006bffc0d204f23f43a3917
5844 F20110404_AABVRO leitner_v_Page_17thm.jpg
46772d27a2cbfd62a84a524f9a85f92a
b4870a65ebe7dafa9985e859a471b91a3c6166fd
87408 F20110404_AABWDJ leitner_v_Page_51.jpg
25728efb19f01bd7b9cd0dd8002fa1fa
686944459b0b55d57f9e73d1dcf569e74afcd9c2
85214 F20110404_AABVWM leitner_v_Page_19.jpg
2548ffae9ee0eb22e674017a6ef3913d
444d5e19a2df39c1e45a87290842cca14ac8cf15
6518 F20110404_AABWIH leitner_v_Page_43thm.jpg
fb98309de254363696594d2a6004de67
2e8b2689cced7e5705bd4c7cf92a475e3e55255e
2054 F20110404_AABVRP leitner_v_Page_44.txt
98a31a304336c0a87de560cd96cbd894
686a42fe224861e98ded82f8e3c3632fbb536e9d
27111 F20110404_AABWDK leitner_v_Page_51.QC.jpg
af3fab66d40676b6fc623d00691c2c1a
95681782536543ce52e9ab8dc095c7faa3563c16
2549 F20110404_AABVWN leitner_v_Page_16.txt
08ca5311740360bb6accb63a514546b4
ee9e5057e09214f15fad357aac42b352e07e3379
6443 F20110404_AABWII leitner_v_Page_45thm.jpg
5de1b322b83ea4b01878dccab255a750
7c7c15c772a08b637fce261073e69f18f03cf7f3
69797 F20110404_AABWDL leitner_v_Page_54.jpg
23ccd3c8fea2f12de8da6b592ac56f5a
93a264009c8a8c0ff9db128827bb14516b2e0eab
40233 F20110404_AABVWO leitner_v_Page_53.pro
16dfd6fc4ffb31c9827feae49baf39cf
73066f76cb2f91103cac61f2f1ac65da06791666
22888 F20110404_AABVRQ leitner_v_Page_07.QC.jpg
324401708a0c2c836615913306afdc61
e53c6b958dcf03ef06ca0030637a2761456d3f09
5969 F20110404_AABWIJ leitner_v_Page_46thm.jpg
9bb092d583f6b0aca5b400c68a1da874
4e436bf909f92b678e16b10019f4813cc5639469
21669 F20110404_AABWDM leitner_v_Page_54.QC.jpg
9ddbb22ddcc89bf43dc6167c17e33f7d
9678f823798aa50920e5621c67bf9886f7c069b8
56757 F20110404_AABVRR leitner_v_Page_45.pro
d3dc6502f8aa02953a9f548b4ed96bf5
14653a0b9e19cc80cecdb7bb44f92573a7fb4658
6142 F20110404_AABWIK leitner_v_Page_47thm.jpg
253a4614f6180ad31acc0c0581a3f1dd
2a6606925985699312af4506d0ba2f021e9733ae
21605 F20110404_AABWDN leitner_v_Page_55.QC.jpg
db5adf77a148f672fe290e42a9363b90
99182e1efa7d38fb2fb1443c433ff5590bb78f5c
23223 F20110404_AABVWP leitner_v_Page_24.QC.jpg
6b98904ca9cd93e4f196858dcabd2bc3
e90e94531aa642c05da864de9655a5cd257ca851
52133 F20110404_AABVRS leitner_v_Page_42.pro
230a14b02670f4b06c81cee95259751b
32a880515e29e58f8090eb148f64728de062853b
5374 F20110404_AABWIL leitner_v_Page_48thm.jpg
fe5c7e87b1769dbf417f2b0d3094867b
81fe79fecb9cf2ca45cc1f26495b95290b464205
81996 F20110404_AABWDO leitner_v_Page_57.jpg
9c426cf861e0b175fd80dc7682f54a1d
05598bc15274184fedb0f4765e5c960291f45844
F20110404_AABVWQ leitner_v_Page_31.tif
ea1c0c4a8819f1fd445cfa7ebee92f3e
b60094851abcb3362935958ebec9b7eec2c4d832
5347 F20110404_AABVRT leitner_v_Page_54thm.jpg
ad9fdd7a5b1c14e7bf0cf57b2d4d8ada
5d146768870a5be7543db632f9580d1a00017139
6311 F20110404_AABWIM leitner_v_Page_52thm.jpg
f16c806e625e16f6a10694d3bd58abb1
57b7480bb7d69c05d559b2fc4a03bb7b0ff84507
25598 F20110404_AABWDP leitner_v_Page_57.QC.jpg
a1c2d7409d71ff6fcbedd1d841ffe7fd
6446866d1cf8ea6fbc80eb127445f9debda80529
20959 F20110404_AABVWR leitner_v_Page_48.QC.jpg
aa2af62565d208e33e0f2df4f5d0c0f3
34ce8eb515cc3eb6c04aff973012f79e5a2b0572
73971 F20110404_AABVRU leitner_v_Page_61.jpg
1a3ad572e752b4d5cada665f1cf8bc26
4504fddd9a3d0a5433b934760182fecddf70993e
4973 F20110404_AABWIN leitner_v_Page_55thm.jpg
75c6cc06023af3ebcc74173257d2ede7
2454716e19d6924bbc923dfb60d55b398c77290b
25251 F20110404_AABWDQ leitner_v_Page_58.QC.jpg
c7d80bb193698f6c68ff4254f23ca719
600b2979ba7b6ceb66ec830898adc8884d132f67
F20110404_AABVWS leitner_v_Page_67.tif
fb5ec6cd63bace92eedbcf8274c14c3a
dab97bbbbecc400bf2190ecd407cfcc7c393021d
2422 F20110404_AABVRV leitner_v_Page_40.txt
3a0790f62ce59fd5b50e1cf0f15dcdf2
fb0167f21b8c0c7cdcbec0cdba20a6f08b255861
5773 F20110404_AABWIO leitner_v_Page_59thm.jpg
e736c71c44894e02ba10b5a9670e28fa
05bab5079ccb20a01e12de4a50deea94840429d3
F20110404_AABWDR leitner_v_Page_60.QC.jpg
94472683db52a011b57efe459ae42460
a2126119e189fb4dd1f4eadd8a9d79c4c2a21862
85291 F20110404_AABVWT leitner_v_Page_42.jpg
4999bee4b006076f4f26ea4976eba56f
2ffa8ad413801fce8327c28f868c4fb602834ee6
6364 F20110404_AABVRW leitner_v_Page_57thm.jpg
fbc401cf98f3aafd0729f2f2f2aa25e5
606a51e075c80ab0c36ba41d849611add1b1084a
737 F20110404_AABWIP leitner_v_Page_60thm.jpg
978ca0fd45e02f49c873cf78426f5e2f
0626d555231ebb970f4771ab2adf59abb44e4944
85979 F20110404_AABWDS leitner_v_Page_62.jpg
a76eb2070f3789f3999f717b500e0925
9562f25cbe2064b01bbec407ba35d24765750361
F20110404_AABVWU leitner_v_Page_42.tif
734d7e65c8753e96b87722b5a48494bf
2e3bcb36db7c8049920dd474ed4ed9b10198cd16
25834 F20110404_AABVRX leitner_v_Page_13.QC.jpg
8157fbdd548698170acb3ea85506a639
cbe2d1d6ced6a505fe12fc2a3bda729ab6599236
6654 F20110404_AABWIQ leitner_v_Page_63thm.jpg
ac7baafa87d3e04fa0a64dd6e8e2b524
6d90f6a99df8e28de6ebfe3b5421f87aa157acea
84912 F20110404_AABWDT leitner_v_Page_63.jpg
f70c408c455dde626d2057c4083daefd
0704b7b4e644695c65e0cd8f25ec5fb7f0e60472
171 F20110404_AABVWV leitner_v_Page_37.txt
678a023098c5f5ad4424e64c707e4df9
3c700f63d2182ac7e086cb6ab4c97f7ece76ea97
6193 F20110404_AABVRY leitner_v_Page_15thm.jpg
2b92e060e98dca28ebff82c219f4e22b
83c3686d49c985b717c91c72b46fcf4c1f322adc
2330 F20110404_AABWIR leitner_v_Page_65thm.jpg
b36e63c9d12d688b02865686e914a141
5ee45819ed073c1d60bad03ac99a53cf0c7ce2b8
85481 F20110404_AABWDU leitner_v_Page_64.jpg
ec2d484b805f8060542f51043960effa
e1b879509bc5ba82887d446c674004002fadba09
49617 F20110404_AABVWW leitner_v_Page_15.pro
fc55735e4f35a037b3c98073bf119d6f
c2104dffad68bea4bd75e70c931894c32e0cbe4e
F20110404_AABVRZ leitner_v_Page_62.tif
6619ecc1dd03067e695a132447cc249b
fed700b4297f68e3aa75a279e0cbe76ecbb85b2d
5185 F20110404_AABWIS leitner_v_Page_67thm.jpg
732e0982a2cbf66b79f46bee51706f8d
a63ecc9663c665f2ea7296da414695b566e1aa4b
26709 F20110404_AABWDV leitner_v_Page_64.QC.jpg
aab12692dbd502666b41e7a5e9efb2ba
19f512b625422cd7e561da1ff2af5bbf38f95e16
93077 F20110404_AABVWX leitner_v_Page_16.jpg
3f0d6743d5b0caf50e9266eb8095b5e3
eee6617f591a64aed0a115021aaf2f897707e79a
1894 F20110404_AABWIT leitner_v_Page_68thm.jpg
6aee8029016fda712b5f6ae52f5e5696
af2b7cd1a9fb63c69d761cb5e93e44935d3822b6
28240 F20110404_AABWDW leitner_v_Page_65.jpg
3b157caddfb04940939ab79d54bb7425
c5ab1efa8765d0195f91579856879a901c22fab2
6215 F20110404_AABVUA leitner_v_Page_58thm.jpg
6e57ba250eb3074543d802af104957fe
33a4e63298b8262ce2932dc3287c3c16910212c9
73879 F20110404_AABVWY leitner_v_Page_23.jpg
d98d8eae0990f6abdfe350f83b040764
3cd0d9242dfc6bef701c1af4416052fc68e30f13
261251 F20110404_AABWIU leitner_v.pdf
4fcfcaa19281fbcc097e8889e20bbdf3
24dfc43dfdfe671b825c73afb227577403566a35
9455 F20110404_AABWDX leitner_v_Page_65.QC.jpg
0093d91f7b06cbf6e135211661f7cbb0
4eef255159a5287f8eed7b39f77d3f8707e00dd7
46381 F20110404_AABVUB leitner_v_Page_46.pro
a2e754c255724e5d83e3cd498fa05057
eae1a1b8e071c321812c25ad38a2e7e55bbce622
5516 F20110404_AABVWZ leitner_v_Page_28thm.jpg
55ecf6eb4f728df390da281be123a9a4
0353001a32022ec7dbf8a97274f6f2ba444778eb
81621 F20110404_AABWIV UFE0014349_00001.mets FULL
540360d0c8aa2de18ef99b1c458a98a9
78308911083c082630dfd2614c67a7aa5a332dd7
BROKEN_LINK
leitner_v_Page_01.tif
71927 F20110404_AABWDY leitner_v_Page_66.jpg
25c046960b8168102545c6250f1b52d2
54c85317b41ad1bdbf60516306c2f3749f705b71
25029 F20110404_AABVUC leitner_v_Page_31.QC.jpg
9d3bf1d841cb5ead176056d5ba02224c
06d5df55e9125065192a6249c349025dd054d83e
20804 F20110404_AABWDZ leitner_v_Page_66.QC.jpg
9f0311bacd4376ae0197fd19f42c2b5e
f2d7cb4b512786a89731019a08110231eae7ff08
1051984 F20110404_AABVUD leitner_v_Page_24.jp2
a218328090654bac670495193bfef06d
c1099e02915331129c6a8502e157f18cfddc33f7
56508 F20110404_AABVZA leitner_v_Page_09.pro
97dc439d49de24da46b4b468e53234e0
651b1a7ec9ce6d7bc23a36cee46adf5826632c67
F20110404_AABWBA leitner_v_Page_47.tif
5df67583e2ab8f963e40571190e7a255
99d72f7e84af3a21773cc88455e811a59cedae07
48375 F20110404_AABVUE leitner_v_Page_47.pro
f84c9350710af5d46affce95af3fb6a2
6edaa6fc6d440b8c8f3bb14761e0b3faf2bc385c
6626 F20110404_AABVZB leitner_v_Page_11thm.jpg
be9a89adaf680233f08f1e2ee5c2ff87
aaff3c213f1e1d3a3508f0b0828bc9614bf9efad
F20110404_AABWBB leitner_v_Page_48.tif
9dd9fd61f007411ac2f749e8a1f782b5
16af1c0c147b3319749bd480fd016e71cc36622b
83006 F20110404_AABVUF leitner_v_Page_32.jpg
1fa412b091c10fc9ae20c9f67f5c396a
2f1f6ffc3edd16bac6749645cd84ac34891cfe3d
53781 F20110404_AABVZC leitner_v_Page_62.pro
f54352b1201909e675fd5868172c6d2d
ca136a9bc4ca3fee2c5385eab3f0bed8a01c3e0a
F20110404_AABWBC leitner_v_Page_50.tif
a03511538d6960993bcc88293ab2d212
9b1b1229c6a932857b104f40355e04f30dc7ff98
2069 F20110404_AABWGA leitner_v_Page_41.txt
e9a20d2b3fcda3b59beab86d53d2d4c5
abb053795f3c36368bbcc1b2bd14ab2a34500501
988026 F20110404_AABVUG leitner_v_Page_61.jp2
466b599517b18c05816c3afc7b0eadd2
d3b0ac8f1df83e356bdc8249cfb09eccba43dc4f
78443 F20110404_AABVZD leitner_v_Page_21.jpg
02277f575dd18b174e5acfedf5b6c9bf
ee7ec3bf01c2b5119525c3b9ab5ffe53daee1685
F20110404_AABWBD leitner_v_Page_52.tif
2bbb1090a2cd9b506bdef5f8964c8305
0823778632abc8fc26f3ec0874179d517ae41fff
2045 F20110404_AABWGB leitner_v_Page_42.txt
3a528b8834dffba51613d47c6ad0bf33
2bb1fdda3671d1ee4b725c013612b71799a12cf3
22769 F20110404_AABVUH leitner_v_Page_44.QC.jpg
b46104d187d0e12c9b3f12e85ed99b60
7914e6a4e29ffc40e72dfe39729e2e5114e1d662
6453 F20110404_AABVZE leitner_v_Page_10thm.jpg
07a323bfc8c053a5a2214e66d9b8ae1c
11d81228a7c46d96e69c76040a3c0f3f4b31babd
F20110404_AABWBE leitner_v_Page_53.tif
a2d2f4a7d358a4c10489079db2941cec
d9bd950c335c82113af2deda39acd975c675072a
2220 F20110404_AABWGC leitner_v_Page_45.txt
070a67bcadb9cfdfcba8f654a592fd00
dde535c632f09b465e54bc16eb769361c4855d38
48843 F20110404_AABVUI leitner_v_Page_58.pro
8faa1fc3abfe330b86a791ca7f4bbae0
9d57955f4416b9514111cdf4f6fed487a4b52082
5705 F20110404_AABVZF leitner_v_Page_33thm.jpg
64f4240926403542d979e9c226154fbd
60f254164ce159ac6ef33047c7c0f2ad434dbb92
F20110404_AABWBF leitner_v_Page_55.tif
a1f06376578aaac144f8eca788975f38
3c3f3760874cd8b1fbfb3471d8a87ec7962eddea
1821 F20110404_AABWGD leitner_v_Page_48.txt
205da0d919588026ee83871e17fa550e
345859b827af0273b059b9b7d70b3c8fcc48a6e0
78014 F20110404_AABVUJ leitner_v_Page_52.jpg
ad3d340af4d62c526dcec9eada16129e
0ff8f768651ace409fa3ab8cd4836c88691791a3
57155 F20110404_AABVZG leitner_v_Page_08.pro
6b2be671eb716efbda4f029097460d38
67fb74a41b561fce135bcf1886b7d7d4d00ba615
F20110404_AABWBG leitner_v_Page_57.tif
9ecd78a64375544faeb66ae5236d1466
9a345f63f6015bad3871ecd3c028826d4f012bac
1953 F20110404_AABWGE leitner_v_Page_50.txt
545cb9334c2db57a733b0c49b873476a
0e2331f06727cfef8ff6645421d9a67a1d791e7f
F20110404_AABVUK leitner_v_Page_65.tif
bc109e0ecd3ea20c69ba0421aa6c5332
a5a1ff385a1d667037f621adc87271900b6c82be
6042 F20110404_AABVZH leitner_v_Page_20thm.jpg
367139bee60db52f5220a0031261b875
596bca2d9309a327c8e5cc4650760b129f60ee48
F20110404_AABWBH leitner_v_Page_58.tif
542da9c093decfc1fcb3cff42b2f14d1
311abcd3d14b6f7fe07491365f6c9d7ff8a02bc0
2163 F20110404_AABWGF leitner_v_Page_51.txt
efe213ab287f4fbe126a24ba507f021b
47b7ae9ebcd3280cb913958f9706062b90961c08
F20110404_AABVUL leitner_v_Page_14.tif
bb89444d0636e62c652859d3560fa191
e37ec8a7a8b9442b3cbc632ca2f3e6d0c1c84713
F20110404_AABVZI leitner_v_Page_45.tif
28494f328bbf2e2db34fbb07a5a3b83c
2945eb2acd5de546f1c25049e1c6379940b5f50a
F20110404_AABWBI leitner_v_Page_59.tif
4fbc89973b7c0e4e6bc8a76994229798
dfbadec38e18c38cece8f9b35ffcc846981a515d
1856 F20110404_AABWGG leitner_v_Page_52.txt
4e962d2b078b2ff22ab9e09893970cde
eb4ba88e86270691f3740ab1b26dbdeba80875f5
1049084 F20110404_AABVUM leitner_v_Page_07.jp2
07e76d470c8d5070aed3d8b4b2d38801
34aacd1a465617efe5f3f5a7e99964e9fa9d3dea
1935 F20110404_AABVZJ leitner_v_Page_07.txt
82317081dca48df961105b9cc3f66ede
713a36799aa07f227e214fbf262b7b384cc7f8d5
F20110404_AABWBJ leitner_v_Page_66.tif
8428ce76d1cb38edf5b003bc47ce067f
2c67a2fa6b0f78b9c651495cbea0b8ad2608b721
1604 F20110404_AABWGH leitner_v_Page_53.txt
534b8b4db02d416729831b747f1fc1ef
1d58a09e026a38367b76712c16b54e0a5ee6f8c1
49063 F20110404_AABVZK leitner_v_Page_06.jpg
6aeb5495b194b20a6b69affc6415e6e7
d4771e0b4260103a56312172a7e462ababcbaa8c
F20110404_AABWBK leitner_v_Page_68.tif
04a7a746b3654c4ac80464288a45e3fe
aa2f201c49201df0688fd7f5be2024fac5d38d5f
1925 F20110404_AABWGI leitner_v_Page_61.txt
cadc5372e2d78ae1d6227d49608d02f3
d44646e003cfc55d5acad0b4aa43221146983c74
1051924 F20110404_AABVZL leitner_v_Page_20.jp2
66efc0c70017ed8683a0f5cfd2721150
33a23ba493386c9fd2a1c38dc75f09b5febdef0e
19669 F20110404_AABWBL leitner_v_Page_01.jpg
11865560aac3ef75d1a1c32c313e0381
f6c005948934bb26e8227737674791c68bab8e09
49886 F20110404_AABVUN leitner_v_Page_44.pro
98f715434babdc44ff3c211d03abd153
0ca308509fe7ca03ce2594a73510c90bdba6c572
2108 F20110404_AABWGJ leitner_v_Page_62.txt
12ff25060ac030a3fc172f21b289098f
83acaf49a0399ea46c04af862d258a844677d360
6683 F20110404_AABVZM leitner_v_Page_60.jpg
f0d9b9746ecb236992e8bfa63ac5e7c4
47438a59ed26e289b5ccd97f9782a4fe1de27cca
6417 F20110404_AABWBM leitner_v_Page_01.QC.jpg
cac511db5e72e2b055d17504785f83a3
29a0d14636fb348cd46f356492f16aa3a20611af
1020333 F20110404_AABVUO leitner_v_Page_46.jp2
64cc9315c0dea8eceada1a697487f3e6
d3cdb7678deab3ea52b7ad851ac338bcb4d3b5a3
2070 F20110404_AABWGK leitner_v_Page_63.txt
c0602189836b1b938ed7101e16982e06
9ca526580957b62254b8a798715bab2e8fa99a4d
F20110404_AABVZN leitner_v_Page_37.tif
a5eef9b59643e9187c3c0286edaf2aaa
8a32379d58bed03d80698cc1e14385795aa31bae
4135 F20110404_AABWBN leitner_v_Page_02.jpg
657aa0839766f9fffe7fbbcde8ec3438
f0ddf6de151b102a2036bfba9db8d9199825fff4
2460 F20110404_AABVUP leitner_v_Page_25.txt
824a333bb7738c993e6ca0e76a2938f7
e3bb4b2f4456c9fe4bbf1310a9540086dfd80f21
671 F20110404_AABWGL leitner_v_Page_65.txt
49aae177dfc69b08cbddc3c1835ae31c
0771d48c4fe01d4ba077b74218e0e15ffc574bce
1051982 F20110404_AABVZO leitner_v_Page_13.jp2
3c508ac70d5d88a811f57eb0a806f489
254154b556a0f4f1cd3735827b4d891a8264fb29
1417 F20110404_AABWBO leitner_v_Page_02.QC.jpg
75b922b3260d1cfc0b0c691364e2cbb2
4a9bb5a476b4845e4479ac7b8fdd58f1619d673c
F20110404_AABVUQ leitner_v_Page_28.tif
05746d3f7d6e23890860437fda2e4b83
9c5117c49813679b3285c5ad69068fefb3eb42c0
1569 F20110404_AABWGM leitner_v_Page_67.txt
a119c16889bdfe78cdf0e742810f1b82
f1823cf2193908047ea1347a8c71a53a158b16d6
852233 F20110404_AABVZP leitner_v_Page_67.jp2
cfaacfa370c792a8997009cffffbf8e3
513265e2c77d1de94c68b775c7c75588aa1ac0d9
3339 F20110404_AABWBP leitner_v_Page_04.QC.jpg
7a07c9a6cef5184da0a79275630c9bc7
4bed76783ada2ac4959835eddcf4d95c17f92b00
5100 F20110404_AABVUR leitner_v_Page_53thm.jpg
a8395f8628508f2030551a8abb0d6d3a
6c42c7c29b140420d87c3be2d32f4b70140c2bc3
461 F20110404_AABWGN leitner_v_Page_68.txt
9718fd28bec1aeb99b14e4d78e53622c
8f6ba347d4c101db8aede9b3b0e35bf1dbb128c6
5285 F20110404_AABVZQ leitner_v_Page_32thm.jpg
20a67a6253eb8005d630edae7a11e460
82d2446fafa5e6f736b994f0e120dd415320c993
9288 F20110404_AABWBQ leitner_v_Page_05.QC.jpg
4c795a0cfa5c01a4a540a25cd826fb4f
dc2e9b7a3ccb2757bdb28439f50b1481607c4659
26800 F20110404_AABVUS leitner_v_Page_25.QC.jpg
f0c36226bf8f32dcf08571f7bfcdaa88
b1c14511f2c9321f02ae61b3fbe6e6e2df94a403
1278 F20110404_AABWGO leitner_v_Page_02.pro
40c34aad702431518b8b69a90ed258c2
28b4fe591b41cb70f97b8065b43e4fe1d2120c45
5627 F20110404_AABVZR leitner_v_Page_24thm.jpg
ca151dc5d7c22cf70a3ca22a2fd822a3
12265fb91ed36d46722b4b0d11a3fb8709232a28
87530 F20110404_AABWBR leitner_v_Page_10.jpg
1d6dbbbd338e7bbb8b659d51449bedf8
0b88db461dabb99c9c6040a38de91f80d35b7ebf
26918 F20110404_AABVUT leitner_v_Page_62.QC.jpg
ec9fee2dcf64662040291f9db5b21677
28a0619bb85b2e26814aadb83a3be16b33ed806e
47758 F20110404_AABWGP leitner_v_Page_07.pro
e8715d53e74a282113d9eb0c2f833e65
ec923a05ed457f2e5500885c9a8be49452b55d75
89835 F20110404_AABWBS leitner_v_Page_11.jpg
9b4529f25c07898bc9f50d7e15253980
4fc27e0d686ac0c967cc55362fee837dd5a31457
948946 F20110404_AABVUU leitner_v_Page_66.jp2
168a7f02735365e3fffb853b2557aa24
1c85601d22806c3693fa1c63b63fc97e9aafc107
50723 F20110404_AABWGQ leitner_v_Page_13.pro
a732c05039bd132d96825e5f1fbf595e
fa0c740a03ff859aba3260ba08c547069355ff28
37237 F20110404_AABVZS leitner_v_Page_67.pro
e215ff81c22a421bc2dacef622012450
781295c9fc7c1aa991b7ac72d4666f38cb099921
27747 F20110404_AABWBT leitner_v_Page_11.QC.jpg
2f6a45c494f38111dc80f82976af47fb
cf8ca62f75f4847c08ad1e3937b2d46b4110e587
1051979 F20110404_AABVUV leitner_v_Page_11.jp2
1593d073c8187faaff2957bac97a87aa
5ff6b50782bec18f2be462cd149785dd14ec4a84
64218 F20110404_AABWGR leitner_v_Page_14.pro
b564b034e3e5634d7a9814dc0cf87d0e
15ff5946bff16015e5a1a1012b4c298051bd2b0b
F20110404_AABVZT leitner_v_Page_29.tif
30a366f4db9723cf329ef4fa39f6b5d9
7713a2590c66f0dad1835aa2bb9336c7092d634f
86001 F20110404_AABWBU leitner_v_Page_12.jpg
ba8a31592191aa99765cd33f009c1a2b
ebbc3b911d87a0de5b1961e63e922b32a94e88cf
47499 F20110404_AABVUW leitner_v_Page_33.pro
db745913b35e5af9af0d547bc517a0c8
6db2dd83a29607204c81b29f762d3478551d5691
61719 F20110404_AABWGS leitner_v_Page_17.pro
cc9ed5b1396b7c9e0876f4b5cb35fed1
9ee1328168d53568a565ff8ea1c9e86f9f1a58ee
2056 F20110404_AABVZU leitner_v_Page_43.txt
c109bcd6fd2972b714ea5c125cfcc235
749df02d9ca4340d03542008f8bfb54e08a9d1d7
83769 F20110404_AABWBV leitner_v_Page_13.jpg
ff70f1c62dbf8c32bed1534f4cd615ec
0978589db055abb6887e63593795c51f5ec9ec1e
2098 F20110404_AABVUX leitner_v_Page_35.txt
d8ab5626c59454687b224ae94d84612c
39fb2cb161271f724f4adc7ac369b3f13608bc40
61457 F20110404_AABWGT leitner_v_Page_18.pro
025eb5d42597a048a87e030c15293b93
b1d613feba412cfc55b1d585a76fddec54520ae8
F20110404_AABVZV leitner_v_Page_60.tif
56d9ef33745a48de6cdcb7ef1dec6cb8
0b41a8b388ae18947beb599ff1e1c1e4ea44060e
93694 F20110404_AABWBW leitner_v_Page_14.jpg
bbda361c11e7ee264ce5f39af2dc2814
504c7d5b2d19ef8c011e39d29d7722d9bba1439f
21711 F20110404_AABVSA leitner_v_Page_61.QC.jpg
b23d9d0c4af74cfec8e91d8c26d15091
8344424eed032b147f821e7dcd1dcb94cbeafcdf
26542 F20110404_AABVUY leitner_v_Page_06.pro
a2033c5737b710b2817695cb538f60d7
d3de43d5d30ef4a22c032ded30961d084979f8f2
52679 F20110404_AABWGU leitner_v_Page_20.pro
bd235ce3fbde64cf9247d43c1d37f6b6
eeea7ca220b407e3c941b84e5b3deb056b058103
2062 F20110404_AABVZW leitner_v_Page_12.txt
7848b7cc5a8086eddd98ce229979855d
b2dbca733e3e19304b6ca0591235939533ac64c6
27218 F20110404_AABWBX leitner_v_Page_14.QC.jpg
12d2e1f6febd5e4c01af426b9d994157
c59774045f8315e01e9206f9849adfb3548c2ec8
48567 F20110404_AABVSB leitner_v_Page_21.pro
bd29757c3e793e95b91f3942bc771f4b
156d244446ea768789424d9055c064e2e2f3b23a
2124 F20110404_AABVUZ leitner_v_Page_28.txt
088bc79bc471e50e9122e7be04d2a596
48a06429ad051d68f2e26d7d77ecab0d6fd61465
27143 F20110404_AABWGV leitner_v_Page_22.pro
995d6a3caa3fa239db10aa19a1b64e85
4d82afcc02698cb38fb562b4400ddd0110627687
1051963 F20110404_AABVZX leitner_v_Page_50.jp2
513367e1e9947bb740bde93074e72550
583fec107719e2abdee9c0cbdf9ce5a16163bac2
81289 F20110404_AABWBY leitner_v_Page_15.jpg
245b164d4352e9dddb854051aa9ceb7d
51e0199605bf87624bc1d5979dafde4402d77cc0
F20110404_AABVSC leitner_v_Page_44.tif
e0ffe08e43113147fa301582b7693708
ef4c36f791477e3a6f38372355ee50a2952676ec
44012 F20110404_AABWGW leitner_v_Page_23.pro
d3e3936ea1676635bfdad7f5b12af70b
4a0b3963c822453ac6dfb5c26745e2dbf98f81cf
14491 F20110404_AABVXA leitner_v_Page_06.QC.jpg
e8f5b6300df88e8a7ca89159cc8772ee
bcc8df7ca2cfd75c14e9214b4378b3ee89cd7f94
88336 F20110404_AABVZY leitner_v_Page_08.jpg
30f17f34941fe5bfe4986fc2439f4eef
2150657bf6a823f511e9802207350a569f834f10
81473 F20110404_AABVSD leitner_v_Page_58.jpg
de7775c1cee978876aff83b197753fc3
89c35c46de9fa5cbf1593eb2c619f1f4c909510b
62636 F20110404_AABWGX leitner_v_Page_25.pro
9db8d4f7fa4735762857a393fb0c1e02
77c6cb9f4f2033758dc40566421e859150aa5630
77250 F20110404_AABVXB leitner_v_Page_07.jpg
2a455070a11eccf2faf6d33cbdcc4506
efe6bc0eb27dc4eb792dd6d593e6330774655e9e
1760 F20110404_AABVZZ leitner_v_Page_54.txt
0b100549ab62fdf2750f72004d76fbdd
a06857051698cfe1cfd87c01bd876d60781baec0
25494 F20110404_AABWBZ leitner_v_Page_15.QC.jpg
86dc67ea8af54090a12e71647df64dbd
2aff41acbdc576ccde2aace61784d98b579520cf
48123 F20110404_AABVSE leitner_v_Page_50.pro
a8c04475844cf656b7653b0acbf66cfd
d432d7ccba79d956e813168bfbd00325f5e7b4ff
48321 F20110404_AABWGY leitner_v_Page_28.pro
8bd805cef45a62c5d60c2b20b3ba7ec9
0f50ff5aabbfbf86beadba284e208f7e9df99881
2386 F20110404_AABVXC leitner_v_Page_39.txt
f274b88e0f6db55977e10d7d89ed2f81
ed820d2476450ecea620e28fe7c1646984f0f653
6648 F20110404_AABVSF leitner_v_Page_34thm.jpg
c847e3c2062a4ab9979a535b7d341526
9f27e1fcdb36cb656c4833247060e25eab8ea3ef
47842 F20110404_AABWGZ leitner_v_Page_29.pro
c0038e9b5ea18defce61e3f0522b58f7
3afbca64a12a6d5dc2a4d999a609e8e9cc405b1b
F20110404_AABVXD leitner_v_Page_56.txt
8bcbea5e8a17db0d7216a148cdb0301d
cdb31c6a94f15ac806e97ca9c3e257c2eba0cba0
42363 F20110404_AABVSG leitner_v_Page_48.pro
d2e22f18e66cffbe8e6943bc78e61a25
32f17927755eaad3c2839281003b472f81ce251a
65719 F20110404_AABWEA leitner_v_Page_67.jpg
32798cd928cf690c02c302a3d1be9906
de4fd480d0d522a51dc018108e1cdfa3fb08e154
F20110404_AABVXE leitner_v_Page_54.tif
ae5c910ba39bdd042e4bc0102f0d2507
9947c89696ee40fba6017957d5a340065fcd4580
1884 F20110404_AABVSH leitner_v_Page_46.txt
a4b793d8a0d323ff795fa83e3a40df75
e24ebfeca73a60083216dd1f5fd47d2bd201d36e
19654 F20110404_AABWEB leitner_v_Page_67.QC.jpg
41131037aa7574d8a5366321538fd0a7
ca7653f6dd2295c4e3c90ced198d7dd8f73ba733
45990 F20110404_AABVXF leitner_v_Page_61.pro
aba916abbdf6ec8cbd435655d0010cfc
c5657b0f5a4ed8b2eeaee4251ad2ebd62d18b41e
6065 F20110404_AABVSI leitner_v_Page_50thm.jpg
85c177bd9281b4b903e077a535737f30
3b68b98042a8e89a2b63ba217a27aeef464eb0c6
6569 F20110404_AABWEC leitner_v_Page_68.QC.jpg
23854554e90d771eaa1eb04edc4f3999
e9da202ac1b06202586cbc41d04166f083a55829
1051880 F20110404_AABVXG leitner_v_Page_19.jp2
895e062510a132885538c5448573db2c
7a6309133f55f34536f236f2172b6f1a53e87f4a
1051964 F20110404_AABVSJ leitner_v_Page_31.jp2
9dabbcf84aab14d2f66430bc8793b40d
eef785e92b74215de28a64865ab71f60670eb228
9806 F20110404_AABWED leitner_v_Page_03.jp2
fe82f874a6d0f755a1cb08d96e96c95c
d57a5b2924fc0182db6189eb74553f3bcd217b64
77014 F20110404_AABVXH leitner_v_Page_28.jpg
505a5bac9efebbc7b4833a80c701c3f4
9904f276c2b7bbca5a126426b23beb7e2e25fe33
81076 F20110404_AABVSK leitner_v_Page_59.jpg
7dd8ef08af32f845bf97ef6d58ae5299
238e6181e4abf1c583eae3264fbb3180fded9e7d
409339 F20110404_AABWEE leitner_v_Page_05.jp2
8892ad97035e469ac66af3bcb08cd3b1
076eae9bf1563839436ceef94bd2dabe0b57da69
24099 F20110404_AABVXI leitner_v_Page_36.QC.jpg
b6d6ef08eaf4c92e8c342a103e40ea0e
7d8f11d424b2109447b4ea6c85a3373c982dfa0c
625698 F20110404_AABWEF leitner_v_Page_06.jp2
a5725058898e43a017e929cd2ad0de16
a35f17648511e4f651e3439d92900211d56c50d3
1001421 F20110404_AABVSL leitner_v_Page_56.jp2
c03708a5a870c4fbae2fa01ee2379d0c
55973c5802884f2c1875ffa060bb78be898dc599
1051976 F20110404_AABWEG leitner_v_Page_08.jp2
ddd498b67b34471d315aadf48e8b314d
e5a70314e40aed47309815a26661387d4547ba30
545 F20110404_AABVXJ leitner_v_Page_02thm.jpg
3bfc25e1507cd7cef87c3be435c4d056
0712d2873b70354ddceacdbe7a82404580ee02f5
2396 F20110404_AABVSM leitner_v_Page_05thm.jpg
cd6031186574804025ca1a1534a02a06
21e0c360512024b0426160c5526c029abd16887f
1051969 F20110404_AABWEH leitner_v_Page_09.jp2
61e547198bb8efcae28196c56e233c8b
055f63ad4df4ed0fe111d30f975bc099f599c3f0
2313 F20110404_AABVXK leitner_v_Page_29.txt
554d421383f049e8c0e9cec68f7b3dfa
11f80c13f8610c143da4f42632aa7352308b344b
F20110404_AABVSN leitner_v_Page_49.tif
32bfdc0eb22576beeb144f2f3addf3e1
b2f7a4ae806980080414b02b466cd5c2807983ab
F20110404_AABWEI leitner_v_Page_10.jp2
20acdddcd8164c85e3caa91157753a43
afbce6c1cac2bba70fe1f96f3aa2d823627c4fa2
25237 F20110404_AABVXL leitner_v_Page_47.QC.jpg
3d95ddeefb547ab8177af6b63e3354ad
f7f7f5d4ec39bf6d4fc5cd13933bd75fd993c840
244239 F20110404_AABVSO leitner_v_Page_68.jp2
a1a49de9cd182d0275819b697066afd9
8c9991d7f403d88574b94f8e02dbc68f7a562fcb
1051975 F20110404_AABWEJ leitner_v_Page_14.jp2
e2887f641d0e02d703e0e7df5636e542
46787be71c43a617d365785785a53740f89d8f20
57891 F20110404_AABVXM leitner_v_Page_11.pro
ea9fc0a0c5f9ce9ae22030911ad8e1f6
98ff20065774708f20cdf9af2e944094abc29feb
926305 F20110404_AABVSP leitner_v_Page_54.jp2
3cd3ddf5f08569add69e86ae408c751f
37ccf40e109c3b73df79fac2ded97a4fd3d1b311
1051917 F20110404_AABWEK leitner_v_Page_15.jp2
b2cdff21b353435dbb149844e0022538
bc3e5b7ba365e45d3ca2b90e12f9369d9a626792
84040 F20110404_AABVXN leitner_v_Page_55.jpg
82477baf1e4f2d6661ff9015835f4024
f571501b2009470593c4a944888972871a6b84d2
85882 F20110404_AABVSQ leitner_v_Page_43.jpg
f3b454c1a4528e823bb57720003c94c2
0d4999a7b9ea66795250eb2fbf040316e0ff9510
1051981 F20110404_AABWEL leitner_v_Page_17.jp2
ecc685633c7cf2dc3321a9786c189074
1c858bce749dbbfabd257b6f1df0525ef241b635
6532 F20110404_AABVXO leitner_v_Page_09thm.jpg
1632d015efa68231444ffc9eb678efc1
e98b896414b58e0530b8390fbae5a60356182af3
82019 F20110404_AABVSR leitner_v_Page_30.jpg
555bcb911dcef6a0711e5de2031198d3
11e425b1beb3891a79b3a405bb0da5692ad71fc1
F20110404_AABWEM leitner_v_Page_18.jp2
9eb3f832b199d802e50082bfc926ac3c
fa3622dbc3adfe9a9d1776fb738cdcb754c3e24c
6254 F20110404_AABVXP leitner_v_Page_35thm.jpg
e5c55871c83d6ef8d59217f693327b35
ca463ac10b3fa0c336df7ad5b75578ac6b406728
49646 F20110404_AABVSS leitner_v_Page_27.pro
0d7f40c805658c5721e653dfd8ba1c4e
42c847511973d341191e03a2113d537a29e5c9cb
1033737 F20110404_AABWEN leitner_v_Page_21.jp2
7b3307d2aa3f32e5ba478bb292c6a9e5
8b4321868c355e810ef410194a1ca34da7f2fec3
F20110404_AABVST leitner_v_Page_19.tif
2d6f4a70506831655e26493b919c660a
3cfc4a5eb20fee10e88337af54782c4bd974fd16
970574 F20110404_AABWEO leitner_v_Page_23.jp2
7d018568f2e2da01ce884b5b795f633b
5a0d27f942575f0b1adaa94fe7c1c4f0546bc636
2225 F20110404_AABVXQ leitner_v_Page_20.txt
80454d97e167af4bcf4898e966dbfd47
df131507e57d8fd56039040f8f0461e408002c7b
1025057 F20110404_AABVSU leitner_v_Page_33.jp2
4f9da0fb7f868c67206e8e746efc1bae
b1917f12711800f19dcc032a996559b78e151861
1051948 F20110404_AABWEP leitner_v_Page_26.jp2
ced142c015d7a6bdc4b9831fa299d71d
af859cbdcfd9e70e41dd2d4fd9e90b8215bd06ed
20983 F20110404_AABVXR leitner_v_Page_68.jpg
0137d607cad65bd76d8a9289cc0ae993
bf62400c85f2a1c3f1219c9c7ba24962527df0f6
1051926 F20110404_AABVSV leitner_v_Page_16.jp2
6b4b32f05b27c3cfcf09a5b1f48e1094
c4b7a162185c8eefbc1fdbc9aa083b42e4e66dbb
1051959 F20110404_AABWEQ leitner_v_Page_27.jp2
5090e0c5ec2f22afbac6cecfc7ca788c
93ae2e5c3aee0991fe98638aca1b31034beec977
2202 F20110404_AABVXS leitner_v_Page_09.txt
3a1cf06ab3ad240991232d6595f49359
a10b66ea5bfa85dafd445b8a0e284aa038095375
2226 F20110404_AABVSW leitner_v_Page_30.txt
d88ad00ea6169a0486696004c5f2f6f8
fffacc52d7baac9a14e678e12081f1bec0994881
1039216 F20110404_AABWER leitner_v_Page_28.jp2
2ac8449152e93774ba63309e7e94cf71
73c330d6fc66d85abf96649a5134aabcc6f15374
1956 F20110404_AABVXT leitner_v_Page_47.txt
f8a23c680721fca9ce0de1536207b8c1
1cf45e81e92b5801780a215cd61e71f8afeae3be
F20110404_AABVSX leitner_v_Page_05.tif
5673fcba6eac57f203b59e8d49c36dc1
93074ec07d3e9eac9fb63acad5c2299e57d4ce1f
F20110404_AABWES leitner_v_Page_30.jp2
011e2e30259ab41a465556ea30c7588c
a318e074fd8a9f1a441a8614aa677f331269a730
9506 F20110404_AABVXU leitner_v_Page_04.jpg
d02ccb76226cc11265c4abbfa1a0b493
791afe43b5f144beb09b9ff3d78f6134cc321675
80568 F20110404_AABVSY leitner_v_Page_24.jpg
faf43925981b1c5df2bd021d977691b3
1b27119ab10756800c02dc42fae0a5d41aa39717
1051911 F20110404_AABWET leitner_v_Page_32.jp2
6f65a9516b6b0f877efe496bbde263b4
3eb1914102829f8a61555df15f229811a39a7bc4
2515 F20110404_AABVXV leitner_v_Page_18.txt
30510f690238b9cdf6d406034c9cfcbb
58aae27c924b0928e07b9c81cf5b03c5bf3d0cef
34077 F20110404_AABVSZ leitner_v_Page_05.jpg
5398e4023bafee3d056b0fd680fe0d0b
3c7f509fde47fb0954df2582e849ddd27f9ef09e
1051983 F20110404_AABWEU leitner_v_Page_34.jp2
e78299862e55ab8f183938a1280e673e
3491e6231425cbe0629fb980713c6f0fd0bb56b4
5314 F20110404_AABVXW leitner_v_Page_66thm.jpg
4a1b594ef8fba60dff2bf922943f2e86
7c1fc3319d5c54c77d0fdbf6c68c86f528a64052
1051970 F20110404_AABWEV leitner_v_Page_36.jp2
a0ee11de519a0dd2b0b71d51295310f0
3b9d671c44f502680d40100ac399add5175444fb
22655 F20110404_AABVXX leitner_v_Page_33.QC.jpg
dd724392550aec50c62c694d5bc51288
66a43cab679f522745b31ac3284ed255b8d0774b
72189 F20110404_AABWEW leitner_v_Page_37.jp2
dc56ee973768e108faebf13ec19cb3e1
071a8c876fef9dba209c4a6d951ebb98d5a57260
1051958 F20110404_AABVVA leitner_v_Page_39.jp2
98bb7a143756fd81f0e93fa5020b886f
907cae359016a29e0af9675fe70755abf42b18e4
344269 F20110404_AABVXY leitner_v_Page_65.jp2
c1e9c2c5113ed1022141a748619efe6d
398708341b45741ea6bf279c908d1a5b02e77960
F20110404_AABWEX leitner_v_Page_42.jp2
13a86239213bbf933c34852fcc1b0b2f
9be351572a07532993c2ba8af9f30f07774b566e
87802 F20110404_AABVVB leitner_v_Page_45.jpg
f74d3aedcb730d4a7e8e46f62c203ddd
0a428045e8212eeb2261ec3793b32b3928821604
957447 F20110404_AABVXZ leitner_v_Page_38.jp2
c2fbb29a38585afe127fe2786b42bb8b
5bda7e4bdc9f14f93c90205483e3d01821143ac4
1051939 F20110404_AABWEY leitner_v_Page_43.jp2
2f4341812f8f757f988ce754f8b77598
4b3cc37207d790e02f7beec729f1da098dcf93b8
6519 F20110404_AABVVC leitner_v_Page_25thm.jpg
712d5067dde69b79bae796f62b68f54a
e2661612729712bee6631ad7f7227ad9720c8aae
92672 F20110404_AABWCA leitner_v_Page_17.jpg
a9169c89e198ea0e19b33f31c0b6b040
5377d93e63a5c949d69119e8eb4f10c88f57d843
F20110404_AABWEZ leitner_v_Page_44.jp2
d7e572bc5ec0e4d555e1dd74eb50842c
b8191d74df4515b394e0b4e7036c646edc78b66c
1051928 F20110404_AABVVD leitner_v_Page_35.jp2
db02eb3b7d93220f8359600dfe9dbe0e
4c6ddcc8f34cedd694e165f4229f738ffbe9472a
25393 F20110404_AABWCB leitner_v_Page_17.QC.jpg
5d0a2c428cf4a38804de48725f1d743f
081f9554b58aae16c1d2b1a17e546c6cb5ac1812
26559 F20110404_AABVVE leitner_v_Page_10.QC.jpg
e15d2e592c5155838cc98ab7b2c4b350
d105be6ae60e6caab0a9d59530eb021bddb5108f
91751 F20110404_AABWCC leitner_v_Page_18.jpg
0265b4a761a7752629d8789f563ef190
7eb3b0e78bb9d8d295d568d185d90b353138f883
20962 F20110404_AABVVF leitner_v_Page_56.QC.jpg
5f6c781d4b2a9825f77e468f2ae94d64
0a12e24845433a19262f77838e0296c14d1eb931
53079 F20110404_AABWHA leitner_v_Page_30.pro
6a93b2aa1a6a1c94b7cc60a22525f1cc
029e89e8911470efb9a484ef659ef787a2174b4c
24363 F20110404_AABWCD leitner_v_Page_18.QC.jpg
df9704df7ac78aee2dc132888648ab57
24528816dfc2a4c589ddd128b0eb0039f401ec11
48805 F20110404_AABVVG leitner_v_Page_36.pro
bf4154eaeab3bd8af3218aa6e49b4a06
6abb8fcb3f1a3f5407deec0efb5e387e38365784
56512 F20110404_AABWHB leitner_v_Page_34.pro
c07ce79440a764cae6a78b7419c3d879
83f41794774904dde0f06936930e182ffd64da5a
83577 F20110404_AABWCE leitner_v_Page_20.jpg
91fc3d579514a352a0a21ab5c8cdb3b7
bad78ae989a52df56c0498125b75e847b0485e6e
81727 F20110404_AABVVH leitner_v_Page_36.jpg
c7d60f776e10081642844c42056d5950
969354601892cec37aae920deb57f1553d479b6d
53286 F20110404_AABWHC leitner_v_Page_39.pro
27c2ad2a43814c9b43c21c06748588da
6d24e23482fe783a7b2b58c7bd5fdd9d653ee105
24975 F20110404_AABWCF leitner_v_Page_20.QC.jpg
8cc3fd80263e364caf286a9b994a5bb3
274e86fd4dc57563522c8d2b8ec6341ceaab290d
1051940 F20110404_AABVVI leitner_v_Page_41.jp2
5e56f1e073dedc9223b2ac03295ca208
5630c1be8df1f9faf6f534cd4d343fb18ec12cf2
50166 F20110404_AABWHD leitner_v_Page_41.pro
c44c8032a133e886b1786a27736a3aca
fd8ae33900a5d9ea44f65985b7df3e620b2e0ed1
22836 F20110404_AABWCG leitner_v_Page_21.QC.jpg
847686bfb99693ef855973d8da57f420
f579a429de7ab144eec4ce0d2326767d787f1d4e
F20110404_AABVVJ leitner_v_Page_51.jp2
4802cbd4f825ba809ace456eff82a15a
726a78e39894fcbc9f22d85243226e2bfafe31e9
52398 F20110404_AABWHE leitner_v_Page_43.pro
50e5e216cc8267e4c382f66562f8c42d
875bb2d817dd9410a4ff5c4e131d14d7cb5dd5ae
46807 F20110404_AABWCH leitner_v_Page_22.jpg
0f50f54e01bd0a0cc73f907db10a9021
8ec366528000fce00752b6ddeeecda10de45de57
5412 F20110404_AABVVK leitner_v_Page_56thm.jpg
3f20353f73d1fd1cf29dc059d3f1a8b4
c67d57f5809026db25750c524684f28525f715a8
55271 F20110404_AABWHF leitner_v_Page_51.pro
07a5679de4e6b90d0b741113703b0d7c
23c6509f2dc822ba8905796e604f4bef85118b7a
14836 F20110404_AABWCI leitner_v_Page_22.QC.jpg
1833d1ee75b5c2f4d0d792db804ef2be
ba70d5e3d1e00fac64d20a8a58509dd9951db92c
F20110404_AABVVL leitner_v_Page_27.tif
cf8288c338dbc14a88731516bfebe988
e8b70add3a27440b7b5e97273ac19b8d66544a30
1729 F20110404_AABVQN leitner_v_Page_66.txt
76b7224fd56d9b647e289ea88e2aed32
b1e8446322c0ab3c9d22b89adb4900650b86abab
41438 F20110404_AABWHG leitner_v_Page_54.pro
562d4eb876780be55bdf2206f5aad33b
89013a05053ca6b692562654bfaeaa35568aaeef
22427 F20110404_AABWCJ leitner_v_Page_23.QC.jpg
66130e7f97ba606c733feeb48985355e
d06cd557788f640ff8c5e92b1b9c5a0c45ad6d83
832 F20110404_AABVVM leitner_v_Page_03.QC.jpg
bad5f6d34e245d92d48b860bd898ec83
02f308b7611c16f03b0013418b09ef3155143f55
5514 F20110404_AABVQO leitner_v_Page_07thm.jpg
652f555856376401aca898c8247321d6
83aa3ffee2a633b34510e71e16a9e23fda01a0cd
50305 F20110404_AABWHH leitner_v_Page_57.pro
056ac1c921e4c44a4bced13625031238
bde52c5797a0c9056bd025593709d33c6ff87619
90325 F20110404_AABWCK leitner_v_Page_25.jpg
953eb3b38ce4443138412ca90cd5aa22
6cb4e4f0a2530675324107ad667451af8d7bdf99
F20110404_AABVVN leitner_v_Page_15.txt
4506e4060cdd382c26454e3cdcb715e5
d28ab9d8e90e066d655f8157775ae809fe57b9d7
3618 F20110404_AABVQP leitner_v_Page_04.pro
c752bd81f89066e5b64d1dc3d625565b
066914de27872567264b2afae7a2b2792eff12e6
50005 F20110404_AABWHI leitner_v_Page_59.pro
ec8353a1dc970cefc55554a3a53dff5a
e51803193429f10f78067e98a1031f22e4f696d9
81633 F20110404_AABWCL leitner_v_Page_26.jpg
0293d804a2bd24ce9a74b69eb6eac447
f3b1419cb860477391213a368d506517b910d4bd
F20110404_AABVQQ leitner_v_Page_20.tif
278e8228ab9b6d624c5f5fbda360aab9
bd250712baf1585d8b94245320bfcf592a7987f9
2831 F20110404_AABWHJ leitner_v_Page_60.pro
278257af7cdcf6fbe2fa50e68f7411fb
3724ed30bc37ea8e7df048a68dec5a586098cb57
F20110404_AABVVO leitner_v_Page_09.tif
b8d9db5f5753b1c252d63adff4a36276
6e5f07061df02d4f98137baca048f72063fb1571
23122 F20110404_AABVQR leitner_v_Page_28.QC.jpg
e7250654e6da5a4fa968edf6d95969fc
2334b1440cce20b68fd50409439eb7a4ae5d280a
83196 F20110404_AABWCM leitner_v_Page_27.jpg
b897abeab2dc3fd8b007144f93ccb53f
579403f8adb14d0fc22fd58299f8bdd60304471f
52809 F20110404_AABWHK leitner_v_Page_64.pro
9f8162b47d1387a025211b76f2e82744
932a9a28e2ae5a391f62bd0ef963477c82c4188c
51321 F20110404_AABVVP leitner_v_Page_19.pro
f0c2db1ff8be88200760c084657549ff
a4b7fae7087bdb97bd4debfda4c631fa0c1eb794
26352 F20110404_AABVQS leitner_v_Page_19.QC.jpg
2b9041c2bd3b1efff8a222694c20081f
26439d55711954e4d85bd7ca4a88216bbfc4d7d9
25942 F20110404_AABWCN leitner_v_Page_27.QC.jpg
e8e76d39996bd3446bdd3b6f3391274d
250948e0caba19a6b7ffe8957f4c101bf6a9cb2b
15931 F20110404_AABWHL leitner_v_Page_65.pro
345419b452b5c13d43390d7ae80dd165
2781e02ec743c04313f0de18a31da6e331c6d933
5677 F20110404_AABVVQ leitner_v_Page_21thm.jpg
b0bfc609d3f262aa592f833cceea03c9
648557f41593fe162f2b1532c54d6ceb85970e56
F20110404_AABVQT leitner_v_Page_21.tif
ae6a181e47f484d56ae8e01a4d6f68d8
bc7d0d6cf6b3cc5740b46c7d2429774a1b6ec658
75781 F20110404_AABWCO leitner_v_Page_29.jpg
0fd0cd24f27300cd3a16269fd682c368
bdb6d2e0bb0f021d35328203bcfbeadf1f0e3b93
41554 F20110404_AABWHM leitner_v_Page_66.pro
75401db693a24c2c0e57cd6b1e3944d5
2e9b97c39e7f41aad7694255ee50d21f5ad8cd23
6578 F20110404_AABVVR leitner_v_Page_19thm.jpg
8c7421fc1283fcf13a6046652f7613e4
e964172d3279323bda761c00bce6050a1a499c6c
219614 F20110404_AABVQU leitner_v_Page_01.jp2
8cbc922bf441f3b2647595f17be4caf4
e9715ca7daeeab9feeb9afb7650fc7b7a2388ba2
24717 F20110404_AABWCP leitner_v_Page_30.QC.jpg
c17842498713f6c22f20a8bdb72bc2c6
184a2f8e2eecadc6c36083aaad626d217c83bc2f
10319 F20110404_AABWHN leitner_v_Page_68.pro
49e99ee81b61b3096278a891b965c31c
fbb547c775ef610de514d8588fa8c61071753024
F20110404_AABVVS leitner_v_Page_38.tif
ac4c11220da3b6c012e8975c3df232c5
00d17e98665cbf7bc9f9e854daa726cc5b0801b7
1785 F20110404_AABVQV leitner_v_Page_23.txt
f3194a0cf202b086fa8e987589146a08
d9ee0ac5d3367e56484c16586a52d8efedbb6f54
81004 F20110404_AABWCQ leitner_v_Page_31.jpg
9710063238769922566a90f531d03e24
618920847c1f5c593e094ba1515aa1152393ba30
344 F20110404_AABWHO leitner_v_Page_03thm.jpg
86e4f39fb5bc09be6f0452aa0c99d251
fb84f50fcc3b7001409e6c3173a537beabd735db
22464 F20110404_AABVVT leitner_v_Page_32.QC.jpg
7bb10ac6880505e559bb10f8b4d5ebc4
669686261ade05fb878d3467bf53419f28f9b1f9
F20110404_AABVQW leitner_v_Page_63.tif
a3f06fb578992c9d8d0859ad978b67b2
86b1d250fed8a38b5580abe558ba8700a1992824
77585 F20110404_AABWCR leitner_v_Page_33.jpg
b561840747ad7e6d0297748d2d7731b7
a9fbff56b9540f8b19b6f8290cfb92bae38f61eb
3762 F20110404_AABWHP leitner_v_Page_06thm.jpg
a32571aa4ce4dcdb06eb976276a99a97
c55557884ffdc41d4181535b664abf90406f6463
3221 F20110404_AABVVU leitner_v_Page_37.pro
e7fa4cf6b5ffdf4ce902ef7094752a9a
8ea9045eb7fbdefe2acb5ecc16795d2f1dcbc83c
23697 F20110404_AABVQX leitner_v_Page_59.QC.jpg
32e5ebea9ae4ae3b3d539ce6c3128230
ff13782c69900fd064a5fef01cecdf8507d05679
90389 F20110404_AABWCS leitner_v_Page_34.jpg
70f4837441511d8bd91582dfcbd8305a
4e48e8f4896ac4ef01c9df627b9528b9831671ab
6198 F20110404_AABWHQ leitner_v_Page_08thm.jpg
3327a08bfb90030da7b4f51b85ac6563
48d37ab0232971146fee072773adf06015daa328
27170 F20110404_AABVVV leitner_v_Page_09.QC.jpg
80005a590c8d5e41c96ee31b709b15e6
9ea155fdccd28bc24f0875bfb1923e5b9bf660f7
54944 F20110404_AABVQY leitner_v_Page_49.pro
95ff6e8c54f0fc5b0c38f08323823607
ae13da0278b61e5922989b35707fd586296b931c
72360 F20110404_AABWCT leitner_v_Page_38.jpg
3894c847627b831cc03dd3272c6f1b21
631ea19ecd78b3212a3281403f0d770694732455
6534 F20110404_AABWHR leitner_v_Page_12thm.jpg
1fbe09ebd2b9c02c7d198e3787b980a3
96cadcc61a8fa85723d0764419d8d1860ff9d51f
49864 F20110404_AABVVW leitner_v_Page_31.pro
37f08ffc95cad381aae5ec647ebbe05a
a575bd0ddbab01d03977e310c2cc19489b4de03d
F20110404_AABVQZ leitner_v_Page_26.tif
3e744b016a781300b396a5a726d11130
f395c4759020e18a2b54e82fb26a348f521c3a9b
22120 F20110404_AABWCU leitner_v_Page_38.QC.jpg
7463b2c8f721d3567ef1a771a8e3fe4d
cc7d5db59e2093da5c2f607b26375e805228e2cd
6235 F20110404_AABWHS leitner_v_Page_13thm.jpg
b4e087bc52d42e3423424f984d158101
c4d5b4fd0286d958eb564a4c9abb1005b19a919e
F20110404_AABVVX leitner_v_Page_04.tif
1871cb2fd06b0c10db9362b19d91d5aa
611f29fbb099c647dffc75f61340b3116035683e
83147 F20110404_AABWCV leitner_v_Page_39.jpg
6e059eeea57747fb9b8beb00047ce4fa
3c1a18b36fe5eddd6f99dec63bb627a9e6e6e4d7
6599 F20110404_AABWHT leitner_v_Page_14thm.jpg
22aa101e603a463708ff385c30d1b271
9279ccf4fe4ca71f0d7d1d630480eeadc66516f1
6667 F20110404_AABVVY leitner_v_Page_51thm.jpg
2c3e1f8239985dae1c2617a1fd245909
9a09b29a70e78cb0e780d2033388c917313ee559
82329 F20110404_AABWCW leitner_v_Page_40.jpg
fc850d1bac134dee21eda18e1bd34c2c
548ef6fff2de011a970f99960b4eb96aa175587b
F20110404_AABVTA leitner_v_Page_39.tif
5f01587351385d2b4316ebea0f479aa2
35668ce9c418e8eb66c713c577fd6408cc1ae4e9
6204 F20110404_AABWHU leitner_v_Page_16thm.jpg
caaedd4174f00f850521dfd7756352dd
09aca5b61b74c98b3e893b0aae551a84089b3146
F20110404_AABVVZ leitner_v_Page_03.tif
6e904c12f1f7c2e3d65339001d3b3387
fee37bfc2840b6bbe4a83cb3e80d23002252f686
22914 F20110404_AABWCX leitner_v_Page_40.QC.jpg
3fe3a2022bad399d9cb16c740e38b717
3d18b26daffcd7c03afd8aa1024a2787ac0a43ae
20494 F20110404_AABVTB leitner_v_Page_29.QC.jpg
6c03eabb953ae433b49b8b01bf8959e2
3138eb20506d039bc1dec818172fee8f3b0ca7dc
5543 F20110404_AABWHV leitner_v_Page_18thm.jpg
7069d43265e586acb83af3766e30a9f8
0d069c4d176ee060911cd4e1d14848df6259d43c
82460 F20110404_AABWCY leitner_v_Page_41.jpg
343adeb457d67e2344ae4b1a1b0b53df
d4a3828f46360dd8526319c75f70a8584ba1abb3
25863 F20110404_AABVTC leitner_v_Page_35.QC.jpg
c8f89f9475c6e8fd5408f45ba4b12101
c1ab911e3243a570ef11132fdda855f7c1067571
3589 F20110404_AABWHW leitner_v_Page_22thm.jpg
fafded8ab17e924e903142a13a36d5db
9cdcb6284cb86109642cc0c70a6910ddd78724b0
F20110404_AABVYA leitner_v_Page_46.tif
a70882cd95c429476681fc3cb07ddc26
827f7b8f0675fef7f62d78677794d9ed739f2775
1981 F20110404_AABWAA leitner_v_Page_57.txt
9ce3a28e5bec5176897e8b0dd0b7eabb
63830292e8a1d5e2eb7efa0fcb323a1acce62fff
26699 F20110404_AABWCZ leitner_v_Page_42.QC.jpg
6592b09cd5b637e63ce7259ec6cd0a53
e55a26d0599469ecf4021ecd02d15a72be497bc4
F20110404_AABVTD leitner_v_Page_47.jp2
88823c0a034428e4eae56bdf31c2bcf8
c878b9ea0d707e432df0d7d028c519388fec6b15
5644 F20110404_AABWHX leitner_v_Page_23thm.jpg
a0cd39b303419167264042feff21ccd6
e79ada20a316e322fb343e43271e6218cf352576
2383 F20110404_AABVYB leitner_v_Page_32.txt
c39a0226869ff10482b7ebde5d0b18ad
67fb3b357b2df89a2802bc121c924ea3db8c34c7
26933 F20110404_AABWAB leitner_v_Page_12.QC.jpg
349015b79f93c72a6ebdf0731217a375
e2a3a215d311578e993da5f589ef6ed3f2feba40
F20110404_AABVTE leitner_v_Page_11.tif
584246ceb677b2ea3aa9d1719d5de0cc
c25198e5e0d29ef76ab63e7ee88be53f0193cd09
6428 F20110404_AABWHY leitner_v_Page_27thm.jpg
7a983d2678769b2b0ab8ac32ced659ad
2a6655f4593a8db5d0aa3a5409069e265b9f4a65
F20110404_AABVYC leitner_v_Page_06.tif
59aaa0dc3ede10fa47aa5608c8cc2702
fd3cf0da10f8539977d8132be9aaebe2705d0c64
22515 F20110404_AABWAC leitner_v_Page_39.QC.jpg
ae459a1eada6fe3b0f922365bcf0d810
bc8bbe62dd86893901ac9ce3cddfc594f60984f0
F20110404_AABVTF leitner_v_Page_08.tif
146678a2c764f0b2aab382ccbf382019
c0b7e33a4683ccd83d368e6c8e585cf5f8f257e7
4819 F20110404_AABWHZ leitner_v_Page_29thm.jpg
3759a73bb5400fa269b01511ad879ef9
63fcb638dd4a9ab171f000a8f710e28b62d830e3
1051921 F20110404_AABWFA leitner_v_Page_45.jp2
d6e6b498e801905b2250115a42c0039e
a9d7224978f3bfa3fc5d555f6b04b0bdd1b08c9c
F20110404_AABVYD leitner_v_Page_58.jp2
3382d88e78b700584ec81418a49b4ed1
fc1cdd28b4df9e273db1c6360ab17607a7e54365
43137 F20110404_AABWAD leitner_v_Page_38.pro
372e5606e124f2819e1529806de82015
89e70509c3979aa720dde7a2eddc5c6c5b2e5019
62226 F20110404_AABVTG leitner_v_Page_60.jp2
1c4074a7c25305b2d49bc453a3d2fea5
b0035b8e0a65768a51856035362713a647c92ed7
1051904 F20110404_AABWFB leitner_v_Page_49.jp2
eb0ce9660e4fb1ebd0c1fae8e5da5b87
6fde77a46813b3e83b6cdd2f75f337c63be0f244
46662 F20110404_AABVYE leitner_v_Page_52.pro
23af2c2dee31dda715f7e27d57294b29
a482072775dbdf12d6bf7c7f507c800210329b6c
111035 F20110404_AABWAE UFE0014349_00001.xml
441f8c737c0c52291c77e8a62037d342
3d8e5c4117ba94a87bbab48676d8519804d6d780
leitner_v_Page_01.tif
28879 F20110404_AABVTH leitner_v_Page_02.jp2
7e5fcab9f685e6f22b20b0cff312db84
f4cab59aac45fbfb18be5470c76ab808602dbe8c
1034909 F20110404_AABWFC leitner_v_Page_52.jp2
33a40227a51ee82b712e04efff6081a4
ebe756d80a8b84eceb5230a155b871195603591d
6557 F20110404_AABVYF leitner_v_Page_49thm.jpg
b747ac887d6031c3132d470d5e29940a
20dffdc31e33014d0b4d6cfce20c63d5d8fef002
52555 F20110404_AABVTI leitner_v_Page_63.pro
f7e9f9d0bf8851a4b37bc436290bbc24
665518eafd341703d8189c515c430051a614a329
896566 F20110404_AABWFD leitner_v_Page_53.jp2
9cf3cf0b51f52a446a1ce047053d5aa1
0a0480273e710ca0192beeafce2304bf3563912f
2728 F20110404_AABVYG leitner_v_Page_03.jpg
2bd2373695bb1d0af708f917a1cfce22
be060bc5c93cb02dd9a9c5648fc0d1697ad65c24
6527 F20110404_AABVTJ leitner_v_Page_64thm.jpg
d30e9c4ff33b1bc1275cb847045a0c76
23de5daf0641dbb7e36db40c4d68c26345b14bf8
1051830 F20110404_AABWFE leitner_v_Page_55.jp2
2e5271e14c18436019df5d2ec1bed4a4
5aebc231899f1902fe3e0f34e0bf5e39e12d6ae1
2082 F20110404_AABVYH leitner_v_Page_26.txt
abd07cd46d1b956b3114327ba49403e0
be37af6706ded188165a13505003417dee187f6f
F20110404_AABWAH leitner_v_Page_02.tif
4d3dc60894f7cae2911a8a3198c7a1c0
8e2fe503b10f1c5622acea9eff6a879685236771
2218 F20110404_AABVTK leitner_v_Page_08.txt
6366f46ee285c112243d5f5d57594d2c
2bf4d548e9513c6f4d127c0737007293fa840649
1051961 F20110404_AABWFF leitner_v_Page_59.jp2
de09d31838aca74800c18087ca759e5a
20474f32d62e9881272f841962a4277d77d9aea0
2832 F20110404_AABVYI leitner_v_Page_37.QC.jpg
7e344ebda0a4f6c3ab1fff39fc75fa4a
0dca3526ae7006492b13e0e2016566ef8379c8f5
F20110404_AABWAI leitner_v_Page_07.tif
890440d42b307539644c85e5c194413f
08b300635920b2923a73a536a030c9e961646a9e
24481 F20110404_AABVTL leitner_v_Page_26.QC.jpg
be9ca9fd7f4cbcd52415a28213e2f129
7b245ee5d870a1a5e10da5e73765ca59f80d4098
1051986 F20110404_AABWFG leitner_v_Page_62.jp2
02aba04845fffab92ab1ae1d982e30bd
41277d7c8080efcccc8dfe80dc528539fa63ad0a
605064 F20110404_AABVYJ leitner_v_Page_22.jp2
0839c27f77bcd003eadc774c9313c115
73ee4fc5e15bd6074ddb1b876ebf76c6edff0ef6
F20110404_AABWAJ leitner_v_Page_10.tif
a9eaca6438aa802712c3855dccb92e45
d749e37d2f7b581b72b91f5add5e27e1b39925ea
1051967 F20110404_AABWFH leitner_v_Page_63.jp2
2112a4ad1e671735725dc70ed16470cb
e8dcb58e6691c5c44bb06d239aa59a8621352f2f
F20110404_AABVYK leitner_v_Page_56.tif
4d233118187e5a80e7c34b3160f188c8
92ba308d2db03f58b3023ce4c4c4be2f519bcc07
F20110404_AABWAK leitner_v_Page_12.tif
60cdba294cd3186e3091eedd2835c367
87e3f94026b7fc79bb2fe067cdbc784715a851a7
950 F20110404_AABVTM leitner_v_Page_04thm.jpg
9e5bb96ec1626f7f57d9c29e77014cd5
9b2c2997aeb375e7a6f6b075474cb683a05780d8
51890 F20110404_AABVYL leitner_v_Page_26.pro
b3e61ea6abd398841cef4fcab48abaea
73da6a5800549fb90a04b986139802afec28822a
F20110404_AABWAL leitner_v_Page_13.tif
910b0d08f7c88ccf6173c642afd8baeb
7dfaeaf9e72e4ae2f2ef3a1c6467698e5a5de4b6
83505 F20110404_AABVTN leitner_v_Page_35.jpg
8968bcf2bb0f0d06113745b9071e6a04
2bde0a40af286d3e1d21b63e376fcd37218987c8
1051980 F20110404_AABWFI leitner_v_Page_64.jp2
99dce307c49689fb14187e647e95ee0a
ec3ed1b1842819097e59bac79e2e41576731ff9c
52445 F20110404_AABVYM leitner_v_Page_12.pro
a6661d2514ad6a32cca0216dd721adfc
aef2261b294fd84f2c3410cd48615d4289736db4
F20110404_AABWAM leitner_v_Page_15.tif
b4ec7ed8d9de223ac821a6efe04acd2a
2fb15cc356212ab9f9254e532ae4dceb5bf1bde0
60607 F20110404_AABVTO leitner_v_Page_16.pro
7e20dff008f0c72ba2e5781060cc9364
3426d0f4cea84c6e992ce236a5575aa9a4fd9283
110 F20110404_AABWFJ leitner_v_Page_02.txt
129c73a29e0a7d696339d139c7d16340
219f4bebfffd4334b028d4451eb8f36dac25ca97
5618 F20110404_AABVYN leitner_v_Page_44thm.jpg
5fcbcf2b79f5fe2595d5241d60199ecb
590f9a73950f2060942bd4fff3f58b7f5094d99b
F20110404_AABWAN leitner_v_Page_17.tif
679c5e40b623a6963a30c44e4ef8db13
59dfefbb3fa8733f5d647870a0d4ce387b9f19e4
2691 F20110404_AABVTP leitner_v_Page_55.txt
9254e16ae29fd62299191e0886049fa2
bfddbaef13ef93e997674e0e99a1478abc6d30b8
77 F20110404_AABWFK leitner_v_Page_03.txt
5f74f817d88cc4e85db5ac04e8393bf5
b20943e092aab3eb4d531eaad558fffeeb1f42aa
6103 F20110404_AABVYO leitner_v_Page_26thm.jpg
64e2540d8335da2daea1c31bfcf80ee4
aa544e76d18e03d719dfd859ade605274a69e135
F20110404_AABWAO leitner_v_Page_18.tif
3eb49acc4b8e732fca6da684ce46eb13
094ea055d5c8d6284f65f0b058bd9cdeb2b9b4e5
F20110404_AABVTQ leitner_v_Page_51.tif
011c17ca530e5cdb46a2b1a3495dac1c
69c1234d4beb33236fd06b60225454266e4d9154
192 F20110404_AABWFL leitner_v_Page_04.txt
176e894d462b2bf947989ac14c522079
b6e7fe24e68ff2974fc62e93ee698d7b44812032
6548 F20110404_AABVYP leitner_v_Page_42thm.jpg
6a22241fe97e889ea9bd3fc2fb5a5b00
73f6b80a157ac7313d9e01fbd42c5cf097f9cd9b
F20110404_AABWAP leitner_v_Page_22.tif
36368a73b483923fdf77b8cd81b3a987
06c79e448037bf2915bddcee9fbd2ad586753c97
2482 F20110404_AABVTR leitner_v_Page_14.txt
179b092887de4877195a145048173636
7531eaafb78e01fb199064a1cb5090289ef7b1c9
1160 F20110404_AABWFM leitner_v_Page_05.txt
c90b475aaa2c8a7b5e0b95e3083886fb
da9670a58f2981ede52f91597f2032d4466c6f96
21252 F20110404_AABVYQ leitner_v_Page_53.QC.jpg
9e4a3253c1415f349cb79e50775f7992
dbd42d16ccf04f5496839c11b8e46ecfa208aadd
F20110404_AABWAQ leitner_v_Page_24.tif
c128c0f756154304daf0dc8770265a5b
33a73c951eb038f55b4a73c7ea08d1f3c0b4f67a
74626 F20110404_AABVTS leitner_v_Page_56.jpg
266c6f53cce8e0750d62638eb7d9097f
988f179a4bb3fe914073fe94311a1f332a163094
1234 F20110404_AABWFN leitner_v_Page_06.txt
cb747152787561008386f964eafe9bed
613cd1d28be9be7eaf1e717d7624e8d070c1bdd0



PAGE 1

AURAL EKPHRASIS AND STATIAN SOUN D IN CHAUCERS TEMPLE OF MARS By VALERIE ANN LEITNER A THESIS PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF FLOR IDA IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA 2006

PAGE 2

Copyright 2006 by Valerie Ann Leitner

PAGE 3

To

PAGE 4

iv ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I would like to thank the members of my committee, James J. Paxson and Melvyn New, for their help and guidance.

PAGE 5

v TABLE OF CONTENTS page ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.................................................................................................iv ABSTRACT.......................................................................................................................vi CHAPTER 1 STATIUS THEBAID BOCCACCIOS TESEIDA AND CHAUCERS KNIGHTS TALE : A GENERAL COMPARISON.....................................................1 2 AURAL EKPHRASIS OF MERCURY: A RUMBEL IN A SWOUGH..............17 3 AURAL EKPHRASIS OF MARS: A RAGE AND SWICH A VEZE.................32 4 AURAL EKPHRASIS OF THE FOREST OF TROPHIES: AL FUL OF CHIRKYNG WAS THAT SORY PLACE...............................................................48 5 CONCLUSIONS........................................................................................................55 LIST OF REFERENCES...................................................................................................60 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.............................................................................................62

PAGE 6

vi Abstract of Thesis Presen ted to the Graduate School of the University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Master of Arts AURAL EKPHRASIS AND STATIAN SOUN D IN CHAUCERS TEMPLE OF MARS By VALERIE ANN LEITNER May 2006 Chair: James J. Paxson Major Department: English Geoffrey Chaucers Knights Tale based on Giovanni Boccaccios Teseida and Statius Thebaid contains an ekphrasis or description of the paintings inside its Temple of Mars which seems to suggest that they ma ke noise. I believe these noises are taken from Statius descriptions (who in turn is imitating Vergil) of Mercury, Mars, and the Forest of Trophies, and are meant to repres ent through sound visually depicted, primary textual objects. I call this manner of sounddescription aural ekphras is. My continuing work in this area adds a unique philologi cal comparison of texts and subsequent conclusions to the conversation about the stra ngely audio-visual paintings in Chaucers Temple of Mars.

PAGE 7

1 CHAPTER 1 STATIUS THEBAID BOCCACCIOS TESEIDA AND CHAUCERS KNIGHTS TALE : A GENERAL COMPARISON The story of the Seven against Thebes re ceived several lengthy (and inconsistent) literary treatments in antiquityAes chylus and Antimachus of Colophons1 versions stand out as well-known examplesbut the best -known and most infl uential, begetting, as it were, a line of works by authors such as Chaucer, Dante, Spenser, and Shakespeare, whether through primary or s econdary exposure, is the Thebaid of Publius Papinius Statius of the first century C.E. His ho rrifically gory descrip tions of battle and misoporpaks (hater of war) presentation of war (and War) mark his epic adaptation of the famous legend of Amphiaraus, Capaneus Hippomedon, Parthenopaeus, Tydeus, and Adrastus (the sole survivor of the Seve n, incidentally) accompanying Polynices in a campaign against his brother, Eteocles: the two sons of Oedipus battling for control of the throne of Thebes. There are twelve books in Statius Thebaid the ultimate fratricidal confrontation between these two brothers not occurring unti l Book XI; Book XII then tells of Creons cruel edict against burial, a nd Theseus victorious campai gn against him. It is at Theseus triumphant entrance into Athens in Book XII, after his defeat of the Amazons, that both Giovanni Boccaccios Teseida delle Nozze dEmilia (The Thesiad of the 1 For both Greek and English versions of Aeschylus Seven Against Thebes see Aeschylus, Seven Against Thebes 1926, ed. and trans. Herbert Weir Smyth, Perseus 27 May 2005, available at < www.perseus.tufts.edu/cache/pe rscoll_Greco-Roman.html#text1 >. For the extant fragment of Antimachus of Colophon see Victor J. Matthews, Antimachus of Colophon: Text and Commentary (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1996).

PAGE 8

2 Nuptials of Emily ) and Chaucers Knights Tale pick up the story.2 The time Statius spends on his characters, descriptions of th e horrors of war, the consequences of both divine and mortal hatred, and the cursed history of Thebesso vital to the storys conflict and its particip ants because of the miasma it has left on them allindeed accounts for much of those eleven books (Ross x). It is these elements that give Statius version of the legend its emotional power and as Boccaccio and Chaucer later borrow and translate Statius, their texts are themselves stained with the miasma of all that makes the Theban saga so terrible as the ancient example par excellence of the consequences of the unloosed reign of chaotic Mars. As we will later see, the stain becomes an aural one as Chaucer takes images for his Temple of Mars from Statiusand through him, Vergiland describes them, not visually, but through sound in what I call aural ekphrasis. Since Statius chose to highlight the emotional facets of the sad futility of human conflict, he allowed the narra tive to hover over them, pinning th e reader there to writhe as every mortal within it does; a quickly moving plot was minor to this point, and as a result his Thebaid has been criticized as lagging (Ross x) Statius has often had the misfortune of being compared to the two seemingly apot heosized fathers of epic, Homer and Vergil, consequently condemned as a shoddy imitator, bad narrator, and repetitive, among other things (Ross xvii). But while he does certain ly borrow from these two masters (a known Roman literary tradition), he approaches them humbly and with veneration, never 2 For further summary, comparison, and contrast of the three texts see Robert W. Hanning, The Struggle between Noble Designs and Chaos: The Literary Tradition of Chaucers Knights Tale, The Literary Review 23.4 (1980 Summer): 519-541; and Statius, The Thebaid Trans. Charles Stanley Ross (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP 2004), ix-xxxvii; and Giovanni Boccac cio, The Book of Theseus (Teseida delle Nozze dEmilia) Trans. Bernadette Marie McCoy (New York: Teesdale, 1974), 2-17.

PAGE 9

3 meaning for his Thebaid to enter into competition with their works. He addresses his epic in an epigraph at the end of Book XII: So thrive, I pray, / but do not envy the divine Aeneid./ Follow well back. Always adore her traces (Ross 354). Statius has also endured comparison to other, lesser-known writers, such as Antimachus of Colophon, whose Thebaid is so fragmentary and therefore offers so little evidence that one wonders about the negativity directed towards Statius from so many directions (Matthews 25). F. M. Ahl presen ts a prudent opinion of the matter, which I find helpful for thinking of criticism of Statius, or indeed any author, as a base imitator: Much of the debateseems based on the assumption that Antimachus was long and tedious. Scholars who like Statius tend to dissociate him from Antimachus; those who dislike him presume he is an imitator of Antimachus (Matthews 25). My point in mentioning these prejudices among classicists over Statius sources and his use of them is to illustrate their subjectivity to personal taste and canonical favor, and to situate my argument firmly apart from them. For my exam ination of a very small slice of Statius Thebaid the sources used are a careful enrichment of the text, adding depth to the descriptions and prompting strong emotional responses, stronger for the reader familiar with them; they are not, in my opinion, grat uitously plugged into the text (if I thought they were I would be examining Vergil and Ovids influence on Chaucer, which I am not).3 I believe that Statius careful use of Vergil and Ovid (his two sources on which I will focus), in particular places or moments is in turn used by Chaucer in at least his aurally ekphrasticized segmen ts of the wall paintings in the Temple of Mars of his 3 For Chaucer as for his day, a considerable and so phisticated classicist (xiii), and a discussion of Chaucers own use of the names of Latin poets as sources (including Vergil and Statius) see John Fleming, Classical Imitation and Interpretation in Chaucers Troilus (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1990), 56, 73f

PAGE 10

4 Knights Tale I think it is highly probable th at Chaucer would have at minimum recognized Statius use of Ve rgil and Ovid (and th e latters use of the former) since he seems to have known them independently, so th at he should have known that in adopting the three images from Statius he was also adopting three genealogies of imitation, which I think he then au rally ekphrasticized. Statius Thebaid as the standardized version of the Seven against Thebes legend during the Middle Ages, was f ourteenth-century Italian vernacular writer Giovanni Boccaccios source for his Teseida delle Nozze dEmilia (The Thesiad of the Nuptials of Emily ) (Ross xviiif). But there is a large depa rture in Boccaccios version, even though his keeps the twelve -book format and very basic background of the story. The Teseida presents a less weighty story of Teseo (Theseus ) as orderer of chaos, magical transformer of war-like Ipolita (Hippolyta) and her wild Amazons (including her sister Emilia whom we never see in Statius) into pleasingly we ll-mannered and submissive wives-to-be, and mediator between Arcita and Palemone in their struggle over Emilia. So Eteocles and Polynices keep their royal blood and noble mien (a nd their lives), but seem to lose all else from Statius in order to become for Bo ccaccio Arcita and Palemone, respectively, the love-sick brothers willing to die and kill each other not for control of Thebes, but to possess a domesticated Amazon princess. Palemone wins this contest and he and Emilia wed after briefly mourning Arcita (Hanning 523f). Although it is well-known that Chaucer knew the Teseida (but perhaps did not have access to a copy with explanatory glosses, or chiodi ),4 and that these elements, which 4 For more information about this, dates conc erning Chaucers exposure to Boccaccio, the Knights Tale etc. see the explan atory notes to the Knights Tale by Vincent J. DiMarco, The Riverside Chaucer, ed. Larry D. Benson. 3rd ed. (Boston: Houghton, 1987), 826f. In addition, all Chaucer quotations in this paper will come from this edition.

PAGE 11

5 carry over into the Knights Tale attest to that, Boccaccios version does not remain completely faithful to the philological facets of Statius text that are so important to the game I believe Chaucer is playing with ekphr asis. As a result, it is not necessary to dedicate a great deal of ge neral discussion to Boccaccios Teseida and I will later in this chapter talk about thos e particulars I find appr opriate and illuminating.5 This is not to say that Boccaccios Teseida is not important to Chaucers Knights Tale ; simply put, the way Boccaccio uses sound in his Temple of Ma rs illustrates that Chaucer did not use him as the source for his noise, and that it is Statius and his use of Vergil that inform Chaucers aural ekphrases. Chaucers Knights Tale first in the Ellesmere ordering of The Canterbury Tales probably predates that collec tion and some argue that it is a version of Palamon and Arcite, another poem, but edited to fit into the grouping of pilgrimage tales (DiMarco 826). It is significantly shorter than either the Thebaid or Teseida the Knights frequent use of occupatio moving the tale along. Arranged in to four partsas opposed to the twelve books of its predecessorsChaucer follows Boccaccios narrative in beginning at the end of Statius Book XII; he also keeps predominant Palamon and Arcite as prisoners and love-sufferers, and the contest for Emel yes hand in marriage. Chaucers Theseus more carefully controls and civilizes the tournament than does Teseo, imposing more strict and elaborate rules of engagement, and building the structure within which they will fight specifically to enclose th at act of violence (Teseos al ready exists). The Statian horrors of war inherited by the Knights Tale are primarily encapsulated in that theatre, 5 For a thorough but not exhaustive study of th e influence of Statius and Boccaccio on Chaucers Knights Tale see Robert W. Hanning, The Struggle between N oble Designs and Chaos: The Literary Tradition of Chaucers Knights Tale, The Literary Review 23.4 (1980 Summer): 519-41. I use his helpful and well-balanced summary as a guide for some of the following paragraph.

PAGE 12

6 certainly in the battle it cont ains, but also specifically inside the Temple of Mars in the form of wall paintings. For Chaucer, the temples to Venus, Mars, and Diana are inside the structure somehow, while in Statius and Boccaccio the temples are the real versions in their appropriate locations which a messenger visits on behalf of the character; e.g., in Boccaccio the Prayer of Arcita travels to the Temple of Mars in Thrace. The paintings, then, as they tend more toward the Thebaid than the Teseida they also become more strange and inexplicable. Indeed, the Temple of Mars is one of the most puzzling spaces in all of Chaucer, a nd one which many, when writing about the Knights Tale dismiss as an aberration, gloss over with some totalizing explanation, or ignore completely. That the paintings on the wa ll of the temple of Mars are described in such a way that they appear to make noise is a problem that makes them especially odd, not to mention the many seemingly antecedentless but also proverbial images of violence depicted there. As the note to line 1979 in The Riverside Chaucer states, These sounds, like those of I.1985, are literally impossible to have been represented in a painting (835). Although a few critics have posited good explanations that ar e certainly supported by the text, I have always t hought that there is more happe ning in those paintings that renders those explanations somewhat hollow and dissatisfying to me. V. A. Kolve, in his Chaucer and the Imagery of Narrative devotes an entire chapter to the Knight, discussing at length the two great images essential to the narrative, the prison/g arden and the tournament amphitheat re (86). He argues that we should imagine the theatres of both Chaucer and Boccaccio to look something like the Colosseum in Rome. This image is both c onvenient and helpful in order to incorporate the three temples into the structure while still adhering to its general description; it is the

PAGE 13

7 one I generally prefer. Since, as Kolve says, Nothing that survives from the visual arts during Chaucers lifetime furnishes adequate equivalents to these paintings, nor can any example from the tradition we are about to c onsider rival their density of specification (115), it is necessary to closely examine a nd incorporate sources. However, some of those sources that Kolve dr aws from are images of Planetenkinder (children of the planets), from a fifteenth-century German or Dutch Hausbuch, which he uses because he believes that the paintings in the temples of Venus and Mars are indicative of their planetary influences (which the Hausbuch illustrates), rather th an their mythological ones; Diana is the reverse. While these cer tainly contain likenesses to what Chaucer describes, and while I think it is possible that Chaucer could have been imagining these, it seems as if Kolve is perhaps going a bit far afield for reasons, especially since he neglects to explain how the paintings seem to emit sound. He says later: The Hausbuch pictures, which depict only planetary influen ce, display the beneficent and neutral as well as malign aspects of any planets influence a nd offer for each a design that, if a bit more crowded and irregular than is common in me dieval pictorial trad ition, is nevertheless located firmly in two-dimensional space (122). Two-dimensionality is a good start, and this explanation certainly fits well into Kolves book, but it simply does not offer anything towards understanding the noi se dimension of the paintings. Searching the iconographical tr adition of the time (and later) is generally helpful, but remains for me insufficient, I have c hosen to examine the philological one that The Knights Tale inherits: Ekphrasis, meanwhile, prete nds to suspend linear narrative in order to reproduce the effect of a temporally arrested work of vi sual art in stone or paint.

PAGE 14

8 As Andrew Laird6 put it, as language draws attention to the medium of the artwork, it also draws attention to itself as a medium (Fredrick, 58). Lois Roneys lively Chaucers Knights Tale and Theories of Scholastic Psychology presents an interesting alternative explanation of th e third part of The Knights Tale She uses known elements from the medieval -Acts mind model,7 based on Aristotle and elaborated by Aquinas, to interpret the wall paintings in the three temples, the descriptions of Lycurge a nd Emetreus, and Saturns monologue, as a sequence of long sophismata8 meant to illustrate Chaucers view that language use and thinking processes interact t ogether to form/reveal the s ubjectivity of the individual human mindhuman subjectivity must therefore be included in any theory of universal human psychology (162). In the fourteenth cen tury these were all separate subjects, and Roney believes Chaucer wished to combine th em here. The images in the Temple of Mars are therefore so strange because they demonstrate Act 1 of this model, simple apprehension of objects, which is to say that one cannot find relations between them using judgments (Act 2), or reasoning (Act 3) since they are uncombined objects that do not interact with each othe r (164-66). They are al so perceived on the outward bodily senses as existing and present, as opposed to the paintings for Venus, which are inward (167). It is in th is subjective, outward and physic al way that we are then to 6 Andrew Laird, Ut figura poesis : Writing Art and the Art of Writing in Augustan Poetry, Art and Text in Roman Culture ed. Ja Elsner (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1996), 75-102. 7 For further discussion of this and obligations, insolubilia, and sophismata see the background sections in Section III preceding Chapter 4 in Lois Roney, Chau cers Knights Tale and Theories of Scholastic Psychology (Tampa: University of South Florida Press, 1990), 135-162. 8 Although this is a versatile term that could refer to many particular types of logical or verbal problems, Roney uses it in only one way, as the sophismata sentence: test-case sentences meant to be used to bring out abstract problems of metaphysics, natural science, or such. An example she gives for the natural science problem of the concept of instantaneous velocity: Socrates will move faster than Socrates now moves (138).

PAGE 15

9 interpret not only the weird images, but also the odd sounds present there that Roney only mentions in passing as she focuses on the vi sual: rumble, res e, and chirkyng. I will argue that these sounds are not present in the Temple as sound but as visual images which must be interpreted by associating them with a tradition of sources; they can therefore not be subsumed under the rubric of simple apprehension of objects by anyone other than Arcite, who is the only one who can passively view them, and then only up until the point where the Knight says, using his cryptic expr ession, Ther saugh I (1995). The issue of noise in Chaucers Temple of Mars paintings could simply result from the desire to economize space and arrangement of objects, both in the text of an ekphrasis and what it describes. As Michael Baxandall point out, Aga in, there is an awkwardness, at least, about dealing with a simultaneously available fieldwhich is what a picture is in a medium as temporally linear as language : for instance, it is difficult to avoid tendentious reordering of the pi cture simply by mentioning one th ing before another (3). My speculations on Chaucers reasons for such ekphrases I will explor e later, after close examination of several texts. For now, though, I will move away from the criticisms which, though thoughtful and inventive (Kolve and Roney serving as examples), are in my opinion insufficient and lacking because they do not adequately address the sound quality of these paintings. The aural ekphrases sound-descriptions of visual obj ects that Chaucer uses in his Temple of Mars on which I will later focus are direct shadows, mainly of Statius descriptions in his Thebaid but also bringing additional richness from Vergil and Ovid. Since most of the lengthy Temple of Mars se ction from Boccaccio is not a crucial part of

PAGE 16

10 my discussion (even though there are small sect ions that Chaucer seems to have imported wholesale), it is not imperati ve that I include it here, a nd will therefore only provide sections when necessary. Statius version of the Temple of Mars is meant to be the main seat of Mars in Thrace, and although it has walls of iron craf ted with horrors by Vulcan, it is not an actual painting itself as it is in Chaucer. Since Statius version is also unlike both Boccaccios and Chaucers in that the two brot hers are Eteocles and Polynices, there is no Arcita or Arcite to visit su ch a temple and pray to the god. Rather, it is Mercury who is sent by Jupiter to Th race in Book VII of the Thebaid with a command for Mars himself to stop dallying and goad on the Seven agai nst Thebes and their forces (who have stopped in order to participate in the funera l games for Lycurgus son). In the following from Shackleton Baileys translation we see some of the horrible characters from Chaucers paintings, and some candidates for the weird images as well.9 He spoke and the Cyllenian was nearing the land of (35) Thrace. As he glided down from the Bears polar gate, he was carried this way and that by the tempest endemic to the region, the racks of rain clouds spread over the sky, and the first gapings of Aquilos mouth. His golden mantle rattles with pouring hail and the shady Arcadian hat gives (40) scant cover. Here he ma rks barren woods, Mars shrine, and shudders as he looks. There under distant Haemus is the gods ungentle house, girt with a thousand Rages. The sides are of iron structure, the trodden thresholds are fitted with iron, the r oof rests on iron-bound pillars. (45) Phoebus opposing ray takes hurt, the very light fears the dwelling and a harsh glare gloom s the stars. The guard is worthy of the place. Wild Impulse leaps from the outer gates and blind Evil and ruddy Angers and bloodless Fears. Treachery lurks with hidden swords and Strife hold9 I have not reproduced the original here, because when I later refer to specific lines I will supply the Latin. I have also not supplied the complete Ross version of this passage because I personally prefer the Shackleton Bailey, but will later also supply those from Ross when I discuss them.

PAGE 17

11 (50) ing two-edged steel. Th e court resounds with countless Threats, Valour most somber st ands in the centre, and joyful Rage and armed Death with bloodstained countenance there sit. On the altars is blood of wars, that only, and fire snatched from burning towns. Trophies from many lands (55) and captured peoples marked the temples sides and top, and fragments of iron-wrought gates and warship keels and empty chariots and heads by chariots crushed, groans too almost. Every violence, truly, every wound. Everywhere himself was to be see n, but nowhere with easy look; (60) thus had Mulciber portray ed him with his divine art. Boccaccio removes Mercury as messenger a nd inserts the prayer of Arcita, anthropomorphized into the messenger Prayer. His gloss to this tr ansformation reads: Here the author imagines that the Prayer has the shape of a person, so that by making it a person he takes the occasion, consequently, to describe the house of Mars, as something seen by this Prayer (196).10 So in this description there is no I saugh equivalent as we see in the Knights version, but there is also less pagan agency since Mercury is removed and Jupiters place is usurped by Arcita hims elf. Boccaccios departure from Statius for this section, aside from the aforementi oned, is mostly in small details. Chaucer hugs close to Boccaccio for the exte rior description of his temple and its grounds. There are quite a few more lines th an those I am reproducing here, but their images have nothing to do with the noi sy sections of the wall paintings. First on the wal was peynted a forest, 1975 In which ther dwelleth neither man ne best, With knotty, knarry, bareyne trees olde, Of stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde, In which ther ran a rumbel in a swough, 1979 As though a storm sholde bresten every bough. 10 Unless otherwise stated, all Boccaccio translations w ill come from the McCoy version; she works from a different manuscript than Traversa, so when appropri ate I will also include his version. Incidentally, McCoy renders the Prayer female; Trav ersa uses the neuter pronoun when referring to it. I will also not include the chiodi (which are in McCoys transla tion and not Traversas) for this section as they are rather lengthy and do not figure into my argument.

PAGE 18

12 And dounward from an hille, under a bente, Ther stood the temple of Mars armypotente, Wroght al of burned steel, of which the entree Was long and streit, and gastly for to see. And therout came a rage and swich a veze That it made al the gate for to rese. 1986 The northern light in at the dores shoon, For wyndowe on the wal ne was ther noon, Thurgh which men myghten any light discerne. The dore was al of adamant eterne, 1990 Yclenched overthwart and endlong With iren tough; and for to make it strong, Every pyler, the temple to sustene, Was tonne-greet, of iren bright and shene. Ther saugh I first the derke imaginyng Of Felonye, and al the compassyng; 1996 The cruel Ire, reed as any gleede; The pykepurs, and eek the pale Drede; The smylere with the knyf under the cloke; The shepne brennynge with the blake smoke; 2000 The tresoun of the mordrynge in the bedde; The open were, with woundes al bibledde; Contek, with blody knyf and sharp manace. Al ful of chirkyng was that sory place. 2004 In the next three chapters, each devoted to a different noisy moment in the wall paintings of Chaucers Temple of Mars, I will argue that what appears to be a moment of traditional ekphrasis, i.e. originally a visu al object or scene described in language,11 albeit a strange one, is actual ly a much more complicated version of that trope: the ekphrasis of those paintings seems to suggest that they ma ke noise in places. The sounds represented in the paintings themselves are what I call aural ekphrases, or the descriptions of visual (and in this case painted) objec ts by means of the sounds asso ciated with their linguistic antecedents in other, source texts (in this case Statius, Ovid and Vergil). In other words, 11 For more on Hellenistic use of ekphrasis see Murray Kriegers Ekphrasis: The Illusion of the Natural Sign (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1992), 7f. I prefer, since I am working with ancient sources, to work from this definition rather than the one commonly known and used (especially by Krieger), by Leo Spitzer, The Ode on a Grecian Urn, or Content vs. Metagrammar, Essays on English and American Literature ed. Anna Hatcher (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1962), 72: ekphrasis the poetic description of a pictorial or sculptural work of art.

PAGE 19

13 these are sounds that describe written object s drawn from primary texts which are then those visually represented in Chaucers wall paintings. Below I have provided snippets from Vergils ekphrasis of Aeneas shield; I do this because although I believe Chaucer ultimately takes the noises for his i nnovation of aural ekphrasis from the soundlanguage of Statius, Statius primarily takes it from Vergil; and Vergil could have chosen a shield for his ekphrasis and had such success with its blending of sight and sound, knowing of the natural predisposition for the communication of metals inherent in the Latin language. It is this meta llic language, then, that is tr ansferred from Latin shield to Middle English wall; when we hear the wall, we are meant to remember the shield by seeing Statian Mercury hovering above the Temple of Mars. In this way it looks like (and why not since seem and appear both have visual connotat ions anyway) each aural object that I will discuss in this thesisMercury, Furor, and the Forest of Trophiesexists as part of a new trivium of Lady Memory: sound, text, and sight. And if this trivium were to have a paradigmatic representation in painting, I would imagine it would look something like the early fourteen th-century Lady Memory and the doors of sight and hearing (Kolve 26). Probably the two best examples of the history of similar aural-visual occurrences in Greek and Roman writing, and indeed the most well-known ekphrases in ancient literature, are the shield of Achilles in Homers Iliad and that of Aeneas in Vergils Aeneid. For these examples the sounds are mo stly ornamental (although it is helpful to know the stories depicted), and I believe Chaucer changes this with hi s aural ekphrasis so that it becomes imperative for th e reader to know to what te xt/s he is referring. Even though Chaucer did not have direct access to Ho mer, he surely would have been exposed

PAGE 20

14 to his description of the shield of Ach illes at least through Vergils imitation. Incidentally, Aeneas shield was crafted by Vulcan, the same god who, for Statius, wrought the metalwork that groans too almo st (VII.59) for Mars temple in Thrace. There are four outstanding examples on Ae neas shield where Vergil muddies the waters between sight and sound. The first a nd most important is his singular silvery goose version of Manlius and th e geese that saved Rome from the Gauls in 390 B.C.E.: In summus custos Tarpeiae Manlius arcis stabat protemplo et Capitolia celsa tenebat, Romul eoque recens horrebat regia culmo. Atque hic auratis volitans argenteus anser porticibus Gallos in limine adesse canebat. (VIII.652)12 On the shields uppe r quarter Manlius, Guard of the Tarpeian Rock, stood fast Before the temple and held the Capitol, Where Romulus house wa s newly thatched and rough. Here fluttering through gilded porticos At night, the silvery goose warned of the Gauls Approaching. (VIII.884) The bird does indeed flutter on th e shield (volitans), but since this participle can also be translated as flying around or flying to and fro (which are visual verbs and easily depicted, with sound secondary to their nature), flutter is only one translation, and the one most allied with sound since in English it has a certain onomatopoeic quality which volitans simply does not. What makes flutter a splendid translation is the word in the Latin before it, auratis. This word, as th e adjective gilded and modifying porticos, is conspicuously placed nearer the goose, which is flying and presumably making noise, which reminds the reader that auratis can also be a verbal form (present indicative 12 All Latin quotations of the Aeneid come from Vergil, The Aeneid 1910, ed J. B. Greenough, Perseus 27 May 2005, < www.perseus.tufts.edu/cache/pe rscoll_Greco-Roman.html#text1 >. For auratis following, see ibid. the Perseus Look-Up Tool.

PAGE 21

15 active second person plural), meaning You [all] hear. As I will discuss more in the next chapter since gilded is an adjectiv e also used to desc ribe Statian Mercury, auratis does not exhaust its associations w ith only gold and heari ng, as aura (breeze, wind, air etc.) is another relative. The silv er goose warned (canebat), but this can also be translated as sang and was gr ay/hoary. The shields metal language is ambiguous and interconnected, but it also tells us, quite literal ly, that we hear. We can see just from this one goose what we lose of what we can hear in Latin when we translate it into English. In his Temple of Ma rs description, Chaucer never tells us that he hears or we hear, he only says I saugh, a nd we in turn see through his ekphrasis; but we do hear through his use of sound words to descri be three visual figures (aural ekphrases), that, although they are not on a metal shield, they all make metal noise just like Vergils shield and later, Statius Mercury. The next three are all regarding th e battle of Actium in 31 B.C.E.: Regina in mediis patrio vocat agmina sistro omnigenumque deum monstra et latrator Anubis contra autem mango maerentem corpore Nilum pandentemque sinus et tota veste vocantem caeruleum in grenium latebrosaque flumina victos. (VIII.696; 698; 711) The queen Amidst the battle called her flotilla on With a sistrums beat while monster forms Of gods of every race, and the dog-god Anubis barking, held their weapons up While the great length of mourning Nile awaited her With open bays, calling the conquered home (VIII.941; 945; 962) Contrary to the above translation, the verb t o call (vocat), is in the present tense. Here we are hearing the sound, or voice, of the sistrum, although it is really Regina

PAGE 22

16 (Cleopatra), that vocat. Th e barking of Anubis, which above looks like it would be a participle, is actually an adjective meaning barker or just dog. The calling (vocantem) of the Nile is, how ever, a present participle. Although the events are in the past, and always ever were in Vergils time, when we read we experience them as present. Just as the shield tells us You hear , it is natural that it tells us then what we hear, and in the present tense. This Vergilian speech of metal accompanie s our most important experience of Statius Cyllenian Mercury as Messenger in Book VII of the Thebaid. As he descends to Mars Temple to convey Jupiters orders a bout urging on the Argive s, his golden mantle tells of the violence of the place as much as the ekphrasis topou (e kphrasis of place) that he is described as seeing. This aural hist ory of metal makes its way onto the wall of the Temple of Mars in Chaucers Knights Tale as aural ekphrasis and leaves us wondering, How can a painting possibly make noise?

PAGE 23

17 CHAPTER 2 AURAL EKPHRASIS OF MERCURY: A RUMBEL IN A SWOUGH The first instance of noise we see in Chau cers Temple of Mars is the line, Ther ran a rumbel in a swough (1979). Immediat ely following is one which adds a little sound quality to the image: As though a storm sholde breste n every bough (1980); immediately prior is the desc ription of the area around the Te mple in Thrace, with its ancient, barren trees. The weather conditi ons as we see them in Boccaccio are as follows: For it is set in the Thracian fields, unde r wintry skies, storm-tossed by continuous tempest, with hosts of ever lasting clouds which are changed, now here, now there, by various winds in various places into spring ra instorms, or are hurled down as globules of water merged together by the cold, as the snow keeps hardening little by little to form ice. (30) Other than In thilke colde, frosty regioun (1973), we know nothing else of them from Chaucer; he never mentions hail or the fact th at it is a storm, he only says as though it is one. In Statius, this hail batters Mercury and the tempestuous winds, pouring forth from Aquilos (the North Wind) yawning mouth, toss him about as he approaches Thrace. This hail, incidentally, is thrown down on him from clouds described in the Latin as agmina Nimborum; agmina is a military formation metaphor which, in this context, suggests that even the clouds above Mars temple ar e in formation; the hail then, by extension, would be their weapons (Smolen aars 21). I believe that Statius means for us to think of Book X of the Aeneid when Mezentius son La usus temporarily buys his father life with his death:

PAGE 24

18 dum genitor nati pa rma protectus abiret, telaque coniciunt proturbantque eminus hostem missilibus. Furit Aeneas tectusque tenet se. Ac velut effuse siquando grandine nimbi praecipitant, omnis campis diffugit arator omnis et agricola et tuta latet arce viator, aut amnis ripis aut alti fornice saxi dum pluit in terries (X.800) The father limped away. The soldiers javelins Harassed Aeneas and kept him back, so he Took shelter behind his shield in a black rage. As when the stormclouds pour down hail in showers, Every farmer and plowman leaves his field, And every traveler takes cover, snug In some good shelter, overhanging bank Or rock-vault, while the rain falls.(1124) At one point in the Thebaid Statius says that Mercury s hudders (later I shall discuss other ways of reading it at length), but on one very human level it is a moment when, the hail cueing us to the above passage, we sh iver with and for Mercury; for, though immortal, he has no welcome shelter in that cruel place and must remain exposed to assault by the inclement weather. On anot her very human level we would have, as Romans, felt a pity for the suffering of a de ity who had protected us in our travels, through all kinds of weather and dangers, so many times. Statius Mercury, in his role as Messenger, is outfitted in his little traveling hat ( petasos ; Latin galerus ) and golden, traveling cloak (Latin aurea palla ); he is often depicted and described as carrying his heralds wand ( caduceus ) and wearing winged sandals ( talaria ) as well, but they are not mentioned here. His palla is described as aurea the feminine adjective meaning golden and gilded, among other things. As a rich poetic descriptor which makes richer st ill Chaucers use of St atius and Mercury in general (as Rhetor ician-Trickster par excellence ), aurea appears related to the feminine

PAGE 25

19 nouns aura wind and exhalation (among many others); and auris ear; as well as the neuter noun aurum gold and golden cup (among other things made from gold), but which can also refer to the Golden Age.1 The palla itself is a male garment restricted to non-Romans (Smolenaars 21), and is the same garment that the young priest of Bacchus, Eunaeus, wears as we see him before Capaneus notices and kills him. Eunaeus carries a thyrsus (a pole used by Bacchic revelers, wound usually with vine leaves and ha ving a pine cone on top), and is in general effeminately dressed. In one r eading, his gold (which could re fer to all of it that adorns him in various places, his mantle, or his gold-embroidered tunica, ) rattles as he dies; in another it is a sort of death rattle, the convulsive catch ing of breath of a dying person (Smolenaars 317). Either way, the verb crepare is used just as it is used to describe the rattling immortal Mercurys mantle makes when the hail hits it One more example of this versatile verb is from Book VI ( 296 in Fitzgerald; 209 in the Latin) of the Aeneid which refers to the noise the Golden B ough makes as it moves in the wind, although crepare here is probably most closel y translated into English as tinkling (Smolenaars 317). This Bough can be read allegorically as Mercury himself, but it is at least his caduceus and becomes Aeneas wand: Sed non ante datur telluris operta subire, auri comos quam quis decerpserit arbore fetus. (VI.140) And yet 1 All Latin word definitions, unless another source is given, comes from John C. Traupman, Latin & English Dictionary (New York: Bantam, 1995). I am reminded to beware, as Fleming says, dictionary crawling (15); I do this for some Latin words to open up all possible meanings that may have occurred to the Roman reader (and therefore also Chaucer as reader) because of the interconnected nature of his literary tradition which makes many meanings of one word (and the various textual loci it is used in) simultaneously available, I suppose itself much like a pa inting. Fleming also says, We are dealing with a Chaucerian word before we are dealin g with an English word (15); and I agree, which is why I have not combed Middle English dictionary entries for th e Chaucerian words with which I am concerned.

PAGE 26

20 No one may enter hidden depths Below the earth unless he picks this bough, The trees fruit, with its foliage of gold. (VI.204) While these three examples of crepare can be translated as rattle, they are certainly not all the same noise. The various meanings of the verb crepare and the related noun crepitus (rattle, creak, rumbel) tie them even more closely to Chaucer as they prominently appear many times in his wri tings, while one in par ticular (fart), even takes center stage.2 Mercury is essentially carried by the North Wind or is struggling to glide on it, and in this way he could be said to be in the wind; he could even be visually depicted like this in a painting, which is what I think Chaucer intended when he wrote the aural ekphrasis Ther ran a rumbel in a swough (1979): Mercury running/rushing along, rattling as the hail hits him, in the howling gusts of A quilo. The gloss for swough in The Riverside Chaucer defines it as sound of wind; th at for rumbel is rumbling noise, and although this usually connotes a long, low-pitched sound, it is not necessary that hail hitting Mercurys mantle has to be s hort and high-pitched. Due to the severity of the storm he is navigating, combined with th e sound of wind, it is un likely that one could even differentiate each individua l hail-impact in order to call it short or high-pitched. I believe that, just as crepare is a versatile sound-word in Ch aucers sources, so is his own rumbel equally as versat ile and even synonymous. There are numerous examples of rumbel in its various forms in Chaucer, other than that occurring in the Knights Tale The others, in order from the Knight onwards, 2 For further discussion of Chaucers use of the fa rt, see Valerie J. Allen, Broken Air, Exemplaria 16.2 (2004): 305-22; and Peter W. Travis, Thirteen Wa ys of Listening to a Fart: Noise in Chaucers Summoners Tale, Exemplaria 16.2 (2004): 323-48.

PAGE 27

21 are as follows: The rumblynge of a fart (2233), from The Summoners Tale; The peple cried and rombled up and doun (2535), from The Monks Tale ; And in the water rombled to and fro (1322), from The Canons Yeomans Tale ; The grete sounthat rumbleth up and doun.Herestow not th e grete swogh? (1025; 1031), from The House of Fame ; and Among al this to rumbelen gan the hevene (1218), from The Legend of Dido in The Legend of Good Women Interestingly enough, swough only occurs in Chaucer three other times after The Knights Tale : But what she sayede more in th at swow/ I may not telle yow as now (215), from The Book of the Duchess ; withinne the temple, of sykes hoote as fyr/ I herde a swogh that gan aboute renne,/ Whic h sikes were engendered with desyr (246 48), from The Parliament of Fowls ; He siketh with ful many a sory swogh (3619), from The Millers Tale So it seems from the examples above that swough, at least as Chaucer uses it, is the kind of wind that carries s ound, whether that of a sigh or wo rds or emotions as sighs, and therefore also meaning: the swough is itself a messenger, delivering a collective noise of individual pieces of sound. In The House of Fame Chaucer explains through his eagle to a dreamer that air is apparently a substance that can break, almost as if it were something brittle: Soun ys noght but ey r ybroken (765). These pieces, also according to the eagle, have a kyndely stede (natural plac e) and a kyndely enclynyng (natural inclination ) to that place: Thus every thing, by thys reson,/ Hath his propre mansyon/ To which hit seketh to re paire,/ Ther-as hit s hulde not apaire (753 56). Wind, being air, is kyndely to sound, a nd it naturally carries it as they go to the same place; they repaire there so that they do not apaire (deteri orate), which tells

PAGE 28

22 us that whatever we hear in a swough is as it was originally, i. e. the swough negates the ephemerality of sound. Howe ver, since the swough in the Knights Tale is the North wind from another text, it too makes a sound (and we probably think of it as howling), in addition to the rumbel or the i ndividual, ybroken pieces of air that are also the sounds of hail battering Mercurys golden mantle. The other construction in Chaucer very similar to this is also in The House of Fame (the eagle speaking again): Se here the Haus of Fame, lo! Maistow not heren that I do? The grete soun that rumbleth up and doun In Fames Hous, full of tydynges, Both of feir speche and chidynges, And of fals and soth compouned. Herke wel; hyt is not rouned. Herestow not the grete swogh? (1023) Here we see that the swough and the pieces of sound it carries, which run the gamut of possibilities, at their kyndely stede: The House of Fame. In the Aeneid Book IV, Mercury carries from Jup iter to Aeneas the command to leave Carthage and continue on his journey. Jupiter tells Mercury to Take to your wings and glide/.Carry my speech to him on the ru nning winds (304; 308). What follows is a description that Vergil probably modeled on Hermes visitation of Calypso, when he tells her to tell Odysseus to leave, in Book V of the Odyssey ; Statius probably had at least this in mind when writing his description of Mercurys descent into Thrace: Dixerat. Ille patr is magni parere parabat imperio; et primum pedibus talaria nectit aurea, quae sublimem alis sive aequora supra seu terram rapido partier cum flamine portent tum virgam capitihac animas ille evocat orco pallentis, alias sub Tartara tristia mittit, dat somnos adimitque, et lumina morte resignat. Illa fretus agit ventos, et turbida tranat

PAGE 29

23 nubile; iamque volans api cem et latera ardua cecnit Atlantis duri, caelum qui vertice fulcit et vento pulsatur et imbri; nix umeros infusa tegit; tum flumina mento praecipitant semis, et gl acie riget horrida barba. Hic primum paribus hitens Cyllenius alis constitit; hinc toto praeceps se corpore ad undas misit. (IV.238; 249) He [Jupiter] finished and fell silent. Mercury Made ready to obey the great command Of his great father, a nd first he tied on The Golden sandals, winged, that high in air Transport him over seas or over land Abreast of gale winds; then he took the wand With which he summons pale souls out of Orcus And ushers others to the undergloom, Lulls men to slumber or awakens them, And opens dead mens eyes. This wand in hand, He can drive winds before him, swimming down Along the stormcloud. Now aloft, he saw The craggy flanks and crown of patient Atlas Beaten by wind and rain. Snow lay upon his shoulders, rills cascaded Down his ancient chin and beard a-bristle, Caked with ice. Here Mercury the Cyllen Hovered first on even wings, then down He plummeted. Not many lines before this is the descri ption of nimble Rumor, who, although not directly mentioned with any sort of wind, mobilitate viget, viesque adquirit eundo, parva metu primo, mox sese attollit in auras ingrediturque solo, et capu it inter nubila condit. (IV.175) Thrives on motion, stronger for the running, Lowly at first through fe ar, then rearing high, She treads the land and hides her head in cloud. Considering then the velocity of Rumor, perhaps Chaucers swough is his more versatile answer to the ancient periphrasis w ith winged words. But then the winds have also been portrayed as seeming like children, ru nning gleefully away with noises like toys

PAGE 30

24 that the gods have tossed away; here they r un away with the leftovers to the South, presumably where the winds take dead words: Audiit et voti Phoebus succedere partem mentededit, partem volucris dispersit in auras. sterneret ut subita turbatam morte Camillam, adnuit oranti, reducem ut patria alta videret, non dedit, inque Notos vocem vertere procellae. (XI.794) Phoebus heard, and felt disposed to grant His prayer in part; the rest he gave the winds To blow away. Granted, Arruns should fell Camilla in the shock of death; denied That Arruns land should see the man return: That plea the gale winds wa fted to the South. (XI.1083) Although the Statian Mercury is similar to the Vergilian version, the former seems hollow, little more than the embodiment of Jupiters command, which makes him like those anthropomorphic utterances we see in The House of Fame Maybe this is how Chaucer also understood Boccaccios reasoning (or maybe this was Boccaccios reasoning) for using an embodied Prayer. But th e fact that Chaucer chose to use Statius Mercury (or I should say Vergil s through Statius), rather than Vergils alone leads me to believe that Chaucers opinion of war wa s much the same as Statius, and his aural umbra Messenger illustrates this. The Romans generally seem to have di ffered from the Greeks in their literary appreciation of verbal cunning and deceit, and their related language of thievery seems to reflect this.3 The Greek regard for Odysseus gift allowed them to overlook or justify his at times shady dealings; the Romans were often quite nasty towards his trickery, and 3 The Greek verb is of course to steal (as in Englis h kleptomaniac), but it can also mean to cheat, deceive, beguile; hence Hermes duplicity as go d of thieves and rhetoric. Interestingly enough, however, is the Latin verb furor, -ari which means to steal, plagiarize, obtain by fraud, which is of course related to furo, -ere to be out of ones mind, rage.

PAGE 31

25 didnt seem too impressed by those practicing it. Take for example the shade of Trojan Dephobus bitter invective u ttered to Aeneas, calling Ulysses That ringleader of atrocity (VI.709); or Sinons general abuse of that criminal Ulysses that wins Trojan trust and opens their gates to the Horse (II.105ff). Aeneas, in his telling of the latter, regrets that he ever trusted Sinons Greek crocodile tears. As Fitzgerald points out: The attitude of the narrator [Aeneas] is th at of an honest Roman before his time: grim wonderment at Greek trickery, with a sense that the Greeks are t oo clever by half, too brazenly good at histrionics and dissimulation (407). Since Rome, after all, descended from Troy, I cant really blame them for disp araging a Greek that had so many fingers in the Trojan pie of destruction. There is a tradition in which Sisyphusthe son of Aeolus, keeper or king of the windsis Odysseus father, not Laertes. Th is is yet another li nk between Mercury, one skilled in rhetoric, and the wind. It is inte resting then that Sta tius Mercury, differing from Vergils, cannot even manage the winds he glides on; Chaucer is ambiguous. This odd lack of control is reminiscent of the ch aos of Phathons inability to rein Helios team across the ordered sky. It is also intere sting that in the Temple of Mars section of both Statius and Chaucer Mercury never speak s but only rattles, while Vergils does speak and even gets to take Aeneas to task (IV.360ff.). There is something very strange about this eloquent silence that draws, i nvites even, our atten tion to the rhetoric representing Martian chaos. Statius Mercury shudders at the barre n woods and Mars shrine (40), and Boccaccios Prayer cannot speak at the sight of the house of Mars (29). There must be something so terrible in those dead woods and in or on that shrine that makes even

PAGE 32

26 Psychopompos Mercury as conveyer of souls and fre quenter of the Underworld, shudder. But we cannot forget that we are watching him looking at the Temple of Mars from above, and maybe with the subsequent descripti on of what he sees we are meant to think of Aeneas inhuman shuddering (II.730) upon seeing and re-seeing (in telling Dido and guests) Pyrrhus (or Neoptolemus), and his at rocities the night the Greeks sacked Troy; perhaps we are even asked to re-read them through Statius: Ipse inter primos correpta durabipenni limina perrumpit, postisque a cardine vellit aeratus; iamque excise trabe firma cavavit cobora, et ingentem lato dedit ore fenestram. Adparet domus intus, et atria longa patescunt; adparent Priami et veterum penetralia regum, armatosque vident stantis in limine primo. At domus interior gemitu miseroque tumultu miscetur, penitusque cavae plangoribus aedes femineis ululant; ferit aurea sidera clamor. bararico postes auro spoliisque superbi, procubuere; tenent Danai, que defiat ignis. (II.479; 504) Pyrrhus shouldering forward with an axe Broke down the stony threshold, forced apart Hinges and brazen door-jambs, and chopped through One panel of the door, splitting the oak, To make a window, a great breech. And there Before their eyes the inner halls lay open, The courts of Priam and the ancient kings, With men-at-arms ranked in the vestibule. From the interior came the sounds of weeping, Pitiful commotion, wails of women High-pitched, rising in the formal chambers To ring against the silent golden stars Those doorways high and proud, Adorned with the takings of barbaric gold, Were all brought low: fire had them, or the Greeks. Next, we see Aeneas watching Polits running frantically away from Pyrrhus to his parents, Hecuba and Priam, as they huddl e with their Penates under the shade of an ancient laurel tree in a court of the palace. Pyrrhus kills him there with his spear; Priam

PAGE 33

27 addresses Pyrrhus in a moving speech, brav ely admonishing him fo r making him see his son killed, which defiled/ A fathers eyes with death (II.700), a nd for not having the compunction (II.705) of his father, Achilles. Hoc dicens altaria ad ipsa trementem traxit et in multo lapsantem sanguine hati, implicuitque comam laeva, dextraque coruscum extulit, ac lateri capulo tenus abdiditensem. Iacet ingens litore truncus, avolsumque umeris caput, et sine nominee corpus. (II.550; 557) With this, To the altar step itself he dragged him trembling, Slipping in the pooled blood of his son, And took him by the hair with his left hand. The sword flashed in hi s right; up to the hilt He thrust it in his body. On the distant shore The vast trunk headless lies without a name. (II.716) If this or another thousand atroci ties facilitated by Mars is wh at Mercury sees, thinks or is reminded of, it is easy to understand why Psychopompos shudders, and why Aeneas, the great hero, stood unmanned (II.731). I have already discussed the palla the garment of non-Romans common to both Mercury and Eunaeus; but as we find out in the comments on Eunaeus, it is also more typical of women (Smolenaars 304). In th is same gloss we learn that Statius description of Eunaeus in contentmeticul ously imitates the sequence of Chloreus characteristics in the Aeneid ; Chloreus is the bizarre characterprobably to be understood as a eunuch-priest of Cybele (XI .1045n.). He is also the person who absorbs Camillas attention: she tracks him as A rruns, ahead of her in cunning (XI.1035), tracks her and kills her, her reward for unbridled girls love of finery (XI.1066). In Statius Thebaid it is Capaneus (who never seems to speak unless he is taunting or

PAGE 34

28 threatening) whom Eunaeus attracts, not with his fine clothes, but with his boasting. Statius use, then, of palla instead of another garment-word like vestis connects his Mercury to not only a non-Roman identity a nd pubescent youth, but also to femininity and eunuchism in so many ways that he c ould not have been ignorant of itneither, I think, could Chaucer. These elements certain ly figure rhetorically powerful Mercury as Trickster Unmanned in the face of Mars and his horrific Temple, and I believe are meant to draw our attention to Mercury just as Camilla and Capaneus each find something in Chloreus and Eunaeus to captivat e them. But that is not to say we should ignore what is glaring and running out at us from within Ch aucers painting, which I will discuss in the next chapter. Statius Mercury yet again deviates from Vergils in that he is never named (i.e. called Mercury), and never speaks. He is only known by two epithets, Cyllenian and Maenalian, the former referring to the mount ain in Arcadia on which he was born, the latter referring to the mountai n range of which Cyllene is a part. If this was not enough to render him barbaros to Statius text, he also wears a non-Roman palla and his traveling hat, although Sta tius uses the Latin form galerus instead of the Greek petasos is firmly established as Arcadian (VII.39) In the introduction to Fitzgeralds Aeneid translation, Philip Hardie discusses the rustica that so fascinated the Romans: In book eight pride in Romes success story is mingled with a wistful nostalgia for the irrecoverably lost innocence of an Arcadian origin [through Arcadian king Evanders settlement].in its essence the pastoral world is a self-sufficient and alternative universe, not just a reserve of innocence on the margins of the world of history; any conflict or even contact with the epic world of expansively imperialist kings and cities is fatal to its integrity. (xix) Arcadian Mercurys silence could echo Statius pensive nostalgia for this innocence lost long ago by a civilization that so highly es timated the god of war and the horrors he

PAGE 35

29 brings. Or perhaps Statius Mercury un-Mercury is simply Jupiters anthropomorphized command: commands from Statius especially dominant and cruel Jo ve either require no persuasion or simply threaten instead, and cer tainly allow no debate (since his power is absolute), there is no real reason for Mercury to speak directly in the text (Dominik 86). For Statius, making Mercury mute should, as William J. Dominik points out, straight away raise a readers suspicions: Since th e education and training of Statius prepared him for a career as a poet or an orator, the treatment of sp eech passages in the Thebaid deserves special attention from the critic The number, weighting and form of the speeches immediately draws attention to th eir importance (273). Whichever way we prefer to read Mercury, we must admit that St atius has whittled away at the Olympian he once was; the umbra cast by his Arcadian hat is his onl y attribute that survives into Boccaccio, who steals it and gives it to the dead trees (31). Mercury is the god of boundaries; he is cr eator, transgressor, and escort across established liminal spaces. As Psychopompos he escorts souls of the dead to the Underworld; as Hypnopompos he is the sender of dreams. Since Hypnos (Sleep) is the brother of Thanatos (Death), it is no wonder that in the Aeneid we see a tree of dreams in the cave leading to the underworld, not l ong after the tree of the Golden Bough, In medio ramos annosaque brachia pandit ulmus opaca, ingens, quam sedem Somnia volgo Pana tenere ferunt, foliisque sub omnibus haerent. (VI.282) a shadowy giant elm Spreads ancient boughs, her ancient arms where dreams, False dreams, the old tale goes, beneath each leaf Cling and are numberless. (VI.386) One can imagine Mercury picking these leaves with their false or deceptive dreams, and sending them on to dreamers. We only see Mercury twice in the Knights Tale and the

PAGE 36

30 second occasion is the aural ekphrasis that I am arguing for; the first is when he appears to Arcite in Thebes: Upon a nyght in sleep as he hym leyde 1384 Hym thoughte how that the wynged god Mercurie Biforn hym stood and ba d hym to be murie. His slepy yerde in hond he bar uprighte; An hat he werede upon his heris brighte. Arrayed was this god, as he took keep, As he was whan that Argus took his sleep; 1390 And seyde hym thus: To Atthenes shaltou wende, Ther is thee shapen of thy wo an ende. According to Fleming, Chaucer would group this in with the few other ambages or amphibologies (Chaucers two neologisms for the tricky ambiguities of oracles (50f)) found in his writings, and I agree; Mercury picked this one from that shadowy giant elm especially for Arcite, and then appears before him as Argeiphontes Slayer of Argus Panoptes (the All-seeing guard of Io) (Lenar don I-16). Chaucers stress on this very Greek aspect of Mercury prepares us to c onnect him with Statius as we hear him appear on the Martian wall as a r umbel in a swough; likewise his ambage links with that of Mars, whose statuebigan his haube rk rynge,/ And with that soun he herde a murmurynge/ Ful lowe and dym, and seyde t hus, Victorie! (2431). We know how Arcites death clears up these ambiguities of Mercury and Mars; but before these is Palamons own, very Statian prophesy to his warl ike brother: Arcita, cosyn myn,/ Of al oure strif, God woot, the fruyt is thyn (1281). The most important word thus far for Mercury, and indeed perhaps for the entire investigation, is crepare as it links all three aural ekphr ases together: Mercurys cloak rumbles, Mars rattles the ga te, and the Forest of Trophies rattles and creaks. And perhaps, as this noise reminds us through its Aeneid connection with th e fruit of the

PAGE 37

31 Golden Bough, sacred to Proser pina, it is also closely bonded with the fruit of war: Death (Smolenaars 25).

PAGE 38

32 CHAPTER 3 AURAL EKPHRASIS OF MARS: A RAGE AND SWICH A VEZE The first time we see Mercury in the Aeneid he is sent by Jupiter to calm the Carthaginians by giving them open minds and a peaceful feeling; we are not told exactly how he does this, but he thereby banishes any aggressive attitudes that might cause violence towards Aeneas and his men. Imme diately before Jupiter commands this, he predicts a pax Romana under the rule of Romulus a nd Remus when violent Furor, restrained, will be locked away: .dirae ferro et compagibus artis claudentur Belli portae; Furor impius intus, saeva sedens super arma, et centum vinctus aenis post tergum nodis, fremet horridus ore cruento (I.293) And grim with iron frames, the Gates of War Will then be shut: inside, unholy Furor, Squatting on cruel weapons, hands enchained Behind him by a hundred links of bronze, Will grind his teeth and howl with bloodied mouth. (I.394) There was a famous painting by Apelles of War enchained.placed in the Forum of Augustus, believed to have influenced this de scription. But there is also here a tradition of the Gates of War of the Temp le of Janus being ritually op ened while Rome was at war, and closed during times of peace (Fitzgerald 447) It is fitting that the Augustan Forum would contain its painted antecedent since A ugustus rule after th e Battle of Actium put an end to civil strife; at his return from that battle he made a great display of closing the Gates of War. Here is another description from the Aeneid : Mos erat in Hesperio in Latio, quemprotinus urbes Albanae coluere sacrum nunc maxima rerum

PAGE 39

33 Roma colit, cum prima movent in proelia Martem Sunt geminate belli portae sic nominee dicunt religione sacrae et saevi formidine Martis; centum aerie claudunt vectes aeternaque ferri robora, nec custos absistit limine Ianus: has, ubi certa sedet pa tribus sentential pugnae, ipse Quirinali trabea cinctuque Gabino insignis reserat stridentia limina consul, ipse vocat pugnas(VII.601; 607) There was a custom then in Latium, Held sacred later in Alban towns, as now In the world-power of Rome when citizens First urge the wargod on There are two gates, twin gates Of war, as they are called, by long observance Looked on in awe, for fear of savage Mars. One hundred brazen bolts keep these gates closed And the unending strength of steel; then too Their guardian, Janus, ne ver leaves the portal. When the Fathers judgment holds for war, The Consul goes to unlock the grating doors And lifts a call for ba ttle. (VII.827; 834; 842) So twin metal gates with a hundred metal bolts, with forward and backward looking Janus as guardian, contain the destructive power of the god; to open them requires a ritual of divinely sanctified contro l, and no one dares touch them and risk opening them accidentally or contaminating themselves. The difference between the two above passage s is the poetic vers atility of Furor, which is to say, the confusion between furor (madness, rage, fury, prophetic frenzy, passionate love etc.); Furor (the prosopopoeia of one or more of those general abstractions, or as antonomasia for Mars in that capacity); and Mars himself (anthropomorphized god of War).1 In general, it could be helpful to think of furor as like 1 According to Quintilian, prosopopoeia is personification whereby we may bring down the gods from heaven and raise the dead, while cities also and peoples find a voicewe often personify the abstract, as Vergil does with Fame (IX.ii.31f); Furor as general personified Madness, is an example of this. An

PAGE 40

34 the Greek ( entheos ) that we see describing the Pythia or Maenads, or similar to the Greek ( thumos ), which for Homer tells him [a man] that he must now eat or drink or slay an enemy, it advises him on hi s course of action, it puts words into his mouth[it is] the independe nt inner voice (Dodds 16).2 An example of Statius using furor in a similar fashion is vocalized by Venus as she complains to Mars of Dianas involvement in the battle: none hanc, Gradive, protervam virginitate vides mediam se ferre virorum coetibus, utque acies audax et Martia signa temperet? en etiam donat praebetque necandos tot nostra de gente viros. huic tradita virtus, huic furor? agrestes supers et tibi figere dammas. (IX.825) Do you not see her, Gradivus, how impudent in her virginity she carri es herself in the midst of warriors gatherings? And how bodly she governs armies and Martian standards? See, she even makes a present of so many men of our race, supplies them for slaughter. Has valour and rage been made over to her? For you it remains to shoot wild deer. Venus acts like a thumos whipping up with her nagging voice the resentment hidden in his silent heart ( pressum tacito sub corde dolorem/ tempestiva movet [IX.824]), while what she is really describing is Parthenopaeus as entheos with Diana as she prepares him for a glorious death: epithet, or appositum is an ornamentpoets employwith speci al frequency and freedom[that]cannot stand by itself (VIII.vi.40f); an example of this is the adjective saevus in saevus Mars meaning savage Mars. An epithet understood on its own is antonomasia which substitutes something else for a proper name (VIII.vi.29f); an example of this is Pelides for the son of Peleus = Achilles (VIII.VI.28 &n.). I will be basing all subsequent distinctions off of thes e three. For further discussion of these tropes, see Quintilian, Institutio Oratoria, Trans. H. E. Butler, Vol. 3 (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1976): 316-19; 390f. 2 For further information on thumos see E. R. Dodds, The Greeks and the Irrational (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1951).

PAGE 41

35 Tunc vero exserto circumvolat igneus arcu nec se mente regit, patriae matrique suique immemor, et nimium caelest ibus utitur armis (IX.736) Then with bow out-thrust he dashes here and there like fire, out of his minds contro l, forgetful of country, mother, self, using the celestial weapons overmuch. In the previous passage the word furor like virtus is not capitalized because Venus knows she already goes too far in her mi srepresentation: Diana cannot possibly command Martian Furor and Virtus to save or favor Parthenopaeus, or for any other reason. If she were to try to save him, sh e would be going against his Fate, which no god (not even Jupiter) ha s the power to do. Further, sh e could not command Mars retinue because to do so would be to cross the bounda ry from her power into his which, as we will see below, is taboo. The most she can do is direct his arrows herself and enhance his ability, turning him into a hunter on the batt lefield. Incidentally, this comparison of Parthenopaeus with fire because of Dianas di rect involvement is very similar to the results of Juno opening the Gates of War for Tu rnus advantage, which I believe is Mars direct involvement. Smolenaars admits in his commentary that distinguishing between the capitalized and un-capitalized versions of this Latin madness seems somewhat arbitrary (25); perhaps Venus manipulation of Mars throug h her misrepresentation of Dianas use of furor and virtus is Statius way of drawing our attention to how he is not using Furor versus furor arbitrarily, and perhaps even it is a humble comment on how his use is different from that of Vergil. The first Vergilian passage above depicts impius Furor or the madness of civil war (Smolenaars 32); Fitzgerald simply cal ls this the personification of frenzy, madness (447). On its own Furor would appe ar to be, as I mentioned above, a general

PAGE 42

36 prosopopoeia ; in this case it has with it an adje ctive acting as en epithet, which cannot stand on its own and still be underst ood as referring to Furor, as in Impius Together and without context they mean basically disl oyal Madness, which could refer to general, prosopopoeic Madness that drives many types of disloyalty; but above they are contextualized behind the Gates of War, and together they become antonomasia for the god himself as the madness of civil war. This is not to say that there is nothing epithetical about this construction since impius Furor cannot stand alone in all contexts and refer to Mars, but here it does stand alone as well as substitutes something else for a proper name. Vergil could be using impius Furor in this way (rather than simply prosopopoeic Frenzy or even Madness specific to civil war) because he wanted to emphasize Romulus fated and unifying (and therefore calming) power as ruler (so powerful, in fact, that he could close the Gate s and trap Mars in this capacity inside, an allusion probably not lost on Augustus). Romu lus was deified as Quirinus, and as such he has been described by Servius as Mar s when he presides in peacetime (Lenardon 657). This would suggest that Mars is lo cked behind the Gates because an innocuous version of himself is commingled with the founder of Rome, keeping his prominent position in the Pantheon during peace, or simply keeping his ratings up. The second passage does not concern ci vil war and does not use Furor; it shows, rather, Latinus refusal to open the Gates of savage Mars ( saevi Martis ) at Turnus bidding, in order to wage war on Aeneas. It us es a simple epithetical construction of an adjective ( saevus ), attached to the nomina l Mars. It is enough to subtly convey what is lurking behind the Gates of War, even though it does not explicitly describe it in a manner similar to the first. The Gates are opened by Juno herself b ecause Latinus refuses

PAGE 43

37 to do the repellent work (VII.850), and we see what exactly is unleashed: civil war does not occur, but the desire to wage war a nd prepare for it spreads like fire through the country; all peaceful toil ceases and implements of daily life become weapons. But all of this is orderly in its own way, as the aggr ession and new weaponry facilitated by Junos opening of the Gates is turned not towards Turnus, but put under his command and used against Aeneas. It certainly seems that the Gates withhold Mars power to madden men into violent action (since saevus also means mad in addition to savage, fierce, cruel), regardless of which way it tends. Turnus wants to unleash what is saevus about Mars against Aeneas because this will gain him vi ctory; likewise, Romulus wants to trap what is impius about Mars because it will undermine his rule. More to the point, both passages describe the same Gates as withholding the same destructive Mars ; the only difference lies in what attributes of th at power the poet chooses to highlight, and how he employs prosopopoeia antonomasia or appositum to accomplish this. This seems quite confusing, but the reason for creativity is cl ear, as Quintilian complains about the use of strings of epith ets, which are like an army with as many camp-followers as soldiers, an army, that is to say, which has doubled its numbers without doubling its strength (VIII.VI.42); Vergil himself (for Quintilian a major source of rhetoric and its uses), was not abov e Quintilians reprobation for using too many epithets. In the case of Mars behind the Ga tes, however, he uses them minimally and employs antonomasia to keep as intact as possible that strength towards which the reader could be desensitized by lavish series of descriptives. This would severely detract from the triumphs of Aeneas and Augustus, between whom Fitzgerald thinks Vergil intended an analogy: the ha rdest and hugest part for both was waging war to end war

PAGE 44

38 (414); that is, power over the Gates of War, and locking Mars in some capacity behind them. Statius, on the other hand, goes further than Vergils use of antonomasia to the point of prosopopoeia whereby Furor almost becomes a character in the Thebaid He fragments the horrible forces of Mars into a prosopopoeic retinue that we see hanging about in the Temple of Mars: innumeris strepit aula Mi nis, tristissima Virtus stat medio, laetusque Furor vultuque cruento Mors armata sedet(VII.51) The court resounds with countless Threats, Valour most somber stands in the centre, and joyful Rage and armed Death with bloodstained countenance there sit. He then uses these anthropomorphic forces to represent Mars as more concretely ubiquitous and culpable when he brings them out to play; they ar e not Mars himself as with Vergils impius Furor but are prosopopoeic abstractions repres entative of him.3 In other words, they are prosopopoeic in that they are personified abstractions, but they are also epithetical or apposita because they cannot stand on their own as the same prosopopoeic abstractions or accomplish Statius e nd in the same way without a patron deity; they are therefore examples of epithetical prosopopoeia For example, in the Thebaid we see Furor as a member of the retinue of Mars, Bacchus, and Venus with the Furies in tow. If Furor stands alone, he is general prosopopoeic madness, not the Madness we see on the battlefield, the Madness we see in the followers of Bacchus, or 3 For example, see Statius descrip tion of the sack of Thebes: Dir e is the spectacle within. Mavors himself would/ scarce take pleasure in the sight. The city is in a frenzy,/ horrorstruck; Mourning, Madness, Panic, and Flight en-/compassed by blind darkness rend it in various discord./ You might think War had come inside (X.556-60 italics mine).

PAGE 45

39 the Madness Hypsipyle tells of that ruins the Lemnian marriage-beds.4 In this way the different types of Furor (as he appears in each retinue) has to do with what way the deity utilizes him, and therefore in what way his talents are controlled. The Furores are not interchangeable, and this is why I believe they are more than just prosopopoeic Madness and are epithetically prosopopoeic : for example, what works for Bacchus is taboo for Mars and vice versa, and we see this on the battlefield when Tydeus kills Menalippus and eats part of his head; this is a shameful act in Mars context, but expected in Bacchus with sparagmos (rending, i.e. killing) and omophagia (eating of the raw flesh). In this way the Furores can also be interpreted as prosopopoeic abstractions of the liminal spaces between the powers of deities. The differences between Furores are also illustrated by their actions. Chambermaid-like Furor Iraque is part of Mars retinue, arranging his plume (III.424 25), and we can imagine them dressed as warriors primping their master; we see them, Ira Furorque this time, in Bacchus retinue as not iners (lazy or, really, not ineffective because of drunkenness) (IV.661). This is no t to say that Quintilians rhetorical definitions and examples are the ones that either Statius or Chaucer had in mind as readers and writers, but they ar e very helpful starting places for my purposes. Chaucers usage of Furor is so strange and chimaeric (and this should be no surprise to anyone familiar with his writing), that one is not sure if he is tending more towards Vergil or Statius, or layering in the same moment imitations of them both.5 4 For Martian Furor see the above example (n.2), or others provided in the paper; for Bacchic Furor see Thebaid IV.660f.; for Venusian Furor see Thebaid V.74. 5 From this point forward I will specify in what way I am using Furor if I am not using it as the Statian character, since for my discussion of Chaucers usage it will need to be explicitly clear what Furor or furor I am talking about at any given time. The general furor meaning force is easy to detect.

PAGE 46

40 Statius refers to or imitates the above, penultimate Vergilian passage no less than five times in his Book VII Temple of Mars (an ekphrasis topou by the by, of about twenty-three lines), describing what Mercury sees (Smolenaars 26f). The first occurrence is as follows: .ubi mille Furoribus illi cingitur averso domus immansueta sub Haemo. There under distant Haemus is the gods ungentle house, girt with a thousand Rages. (VII.41) Shackleton Bailey has translated mille Furoribu s as above, Ross as thousand Furies. It looks in this first exampl e like the only connection is th e capitalized name Furor, and certainly in Vergils example there is only one, not a thousand. Shackleton Bailey calls these thousand Rages a carel ess anticipation of 47ff (meaning of the Temples inhabitants) in his note, a nd although his interpretation is certainly possible, I find it dissatisfying. To begin with, they gird the Temple, while the inhabitants are clearly distributed throughout. They also occur ea rly in the ekphrasis, and it would make rhetorical, Roman sense that if one begins by describing the surroundi ng area or region of a structure, that one would then continue in that description of the structure, moving outward inward, describing inhabitants last si nce they are mobile and not part of the structure proper. The verb here is cingere which means to encircle enclose a space; it is also associated with putting on battle gear ( cingi in proelia ) or a sword ( ferrum cingi ). Then there is the strange occurrence of the rare adjective immansuetus (untamed)coined by Ovid; this is the sa me adjective used by Aeneas to describe Polyphemus in the Metamorphoses (XIV.249), and it can also mean savage or wild

PAGE 47

41 (Smolenaars 25). I believe that the thousa nd Rages are a thousand sections of iron fence surrounding the Temple, and that just as a soldier girds himself with battle gear, so has this wild Temple been surrounde d with a fence as awful as it is. These sections of fence, then, can be seen as a thousand Furors, meant by Statius to be closely associated with the imagery of Vergils impius Furor chained up, which it is supposed hearkens back to that pa inting of Apelles. Vulcan certainly crafted the Temple out of iron, so it is no stretch to imagine he could also fashion an intricate iron fence to enclose it. Perhaps this is w hy Statius says, Everywhere himself [Mars] is to be seen, but nowhere with easy look;/ thus had Mulciber portrayed him with his divine art ( ubique ipsum, sed non usquam ore remisso/ cernere erat: talem divina Mulciber arte/ ediderat [60]). Since the description is so ambiguous, it is not clear what we are to imagine the individual fence-sections looking like. For example, they could all be the same, impius Furor from Vergil; to make the scene more terrible, we could also imagine a thousand Furies (per Ro ss translation based on furor s definition fury) as symbolizing Allectos thousand names a nd thousand ways of wounding in the Aeneid (VII.461-62); then there is Statius own Furor, and we could imagine the various ways in which we see him in the Thebaid ; or, we could substitute any combination of these and more. In this way Statius allows us to choose your own Furores and create our own Temples of Mars, answering for ourselves Nisus question to Euryalus in the Aeneid about the furor of Mars as they sit above the gate: Dine hunc ardorem mentibus addunt, Euryale, an sua cuique du es fit dira c upido? (IX.184) This urge to action, do the gods instill it,

PAGE 48

42 Or is each mans desire a god to him, Euryalus? (IX.252) Perhaps their position helps explain the spots occupied by Chaucers temples of Mars and Venus over the west and east gates, respectivel y, of his amphitheatre. Either way, Nisus question is also important to Chaucer as he to some extent mimics Statius by letting us choose who is rattling the gate. These Statian, saturae fences, then, are those that I believe Chaucer is thinking of when he describes the entrance to his Temple of Mars: .of which the entree Was long and streit, and ga stly for to see. (I.1983) Not, on the other hand, the entr ance of Boccaccio: The narrow entrance was all iron and the gates were re-enforced everywhere w ith eternal diamond (McCoy 32), which the Traversa translation testifies to almost verba tim. Chaucer does not sa y that it is narrow because above he is describing something diffe rent from what he below takes from those Boccaccio lines: The northren lyght in at the dores shoon The dore was al of adamant eterne, Yclenched overthwart and endelong With iren tough.(I.1987; 1990) He puts the plural dores right after the si ngular gate, then continues on with the description of the adamantine bu t singular dore to distinguis h between the two: there is a gate before the actual door or doors to the Temp le that lets in the no rthern light. So the gate that is made to rese (as below) is something other than what is taken from Boccaccio, and I believe it is from Statius: And therout came a rage and swich a veze That it made al the gate for to rese. (I.1985)

PAGE 49

43 As fences that contain what they encircle n eed gates to allow movement from one side to another, from containment to freedom pres umably (or of course from one form of containment to another), the Statian fence al so needs gates; they just happen to be automatons that open whenever Mars approaches (Smolenaars 40), and as such are not mentioned until later when he does (VII.68f). Chaucers gate could be an automatonif one imagines that rage to be Marssin ce he uses a passive construction that equivocates about just who or what is making the gate rese; but in that case, the gate would be malfunctioning since it is made t o rese but does not actually open. Chaucers very word rese adds credence to this read ing since in this ch apters second passage from Vergil concerning Latinus and the Ga tes of War, the verb for unlocking and opening them is reserat from reserare ; rese is basically the root of that verb. Chaucer capitalizes on this word in both Latin and English, not only to allow the simultaneous existence of three texts in one textual moment (as I discuss below), but also to emphasize his Mars as trapped within his own Temple boundary, which is ex actly the encapsulation that Theseus accomplishes with the amphitheatre. There are a few more differences between the three instances of Martian gates in Vergil, Statius, and Chaucer. Vergil has Ja nus as guardian, while Statius Mars has no guardian: as is fitting to Statius point, the gates are still presumably those of War of the Temple of Janus, only Mars has been given complete control over them and is free to come and go as he pleases; it is only the re tinue members of Statius Mars that we see milling about inside the Temple that need to be set free by the opening of the gates.6 Chaucer, on the other hand, has only one gate, no Janus, and has no real Mars. He moved 6 Statius departs from Vergils use of reserare employing instead dissilire meaning to fly apart, burst, be dissolved in order to emphasize Mars powerful control of his own gates (Smolenaars 40).

PAGE 50

44 Statius gates from further down in the text (where they and Mars who opens them are outside of the ekphrasis topou ) to within his wall painting; when Mars does appear he, like Mercury before him, is only a shadow of his former self. Chaucer civilizes Mars with his ekphrasis of Statius extra-ekphrasti c Mars, merely calls him rage, (one way of translating furor into English), and mocks him as he ma kes his own gate rese (which in the Latin would mean he had control over it like Statian Mars), but si nce he only rattles it in English, he is like Ve rgils Mars locked away. In these ways the two Temples of MarsStatius and Chaucers both momentarily exist in the same painting at the same time, the Christian subsuming the pagan in a moment of controlled violence. This idea of two texts occupying the same textual moment is the primary reason for aura l ekphrasis, the second moment of which in The Knights Tale (the first was Mercury as rumbel in a swough I.1979) is as follows: And therout came a rage and swich a veze That it made al the gate for to rese. (I.1985) For my purposes, I am translating/modernizing these lines: And rushing out came Mars in such a Rage That he made the gate shake furiously. This way, rage corresponds with Mars, v eze with Rage, and rese with shake furiously (which is akin to furor ), so that the passage illustrates more clearly in modern English the connection between furor Furor, and Mars. I mentioned before that Chaucers use of furor Furor, and Mars is chimaeric, and it certainly is. A good deal of the ambiguity comes from the fact that he says rage, uncapitalized and a direct translation of furor But this rage also acts as a personified agent in that it shakes the gate, which woul d indicate a simple form of Furor. More

PAGE 51

45 problematic, however, is the presence (as I wi ll later show) of the Statian Furor, also a shadow of his former self, in the Temple itself. It is difficult to say whether, because of his presence elsewhere, that we should think of Statian Furor as occupying both spots, or whether this would indicate another type of Furor as antonomasia as rage (like impius Furor ), or simply Mars himself, patron deity wi th retinue (even though th ere is a statue of him in the painting).7 Certainly the entity shaking the gate in the above lines can simultaneously be all of these, so Chaucer gi ves us the choose your own rage option. My preference is for the idea that this r age is Mars himself, and I particularly like to think of this gate as an automaton ma lfunctioning, and that th is is the reason Mars is in a rage (which is why I have translated the above lines as I have). As someone surrounded by the modern technology of auto matic shop doors and such, I can certainly appreciate with amusement the image of Mars repeatedly walking up to his gate and it never opening. In this way, Mars, the terrible pagan god of War, with all the terrible images on his Temple walls and all his terrible retinue, is trapped behind his own fence; it would not be the first time that Vulcan pl ayed such a joke. And while Chaucer may already have a statue of Mars in that painting that makes him look impressive and powerful, and Arcite might hear Victorie! as if it were Mars pronouncing one of Flemings ambages Arcite dies, Mars called rage is rattling the gate in a wall painting, corralled in with his own impotent retinue and Mercury already prefigures Mars ambage with his own. Simply put, Chaucer has wh ittled away so extravagantly at Mars that not even his proper epithets are left. He chains his version of the former god not 7 I prefer this idea to thinking of it as an actual statue because as part of the pa inting, although we cannot tell exactly where in the painting it would be, the idea of stars above or the wolf eating the man below are spatially less problematic.

PAGE 52

46 with bronze, but with one Latin noun translated ingloriously into uncapitalized English, trapped by one gate he can no longer command in an aural ekphrasis that further hides him in sound. When Chaucer says And therout came a ra ge, Mars is past, and has made the gate for to rese in the past; as such there is no sound to hear, nor ha s there ever been any sound to hear, because all the sounds have only ever been visual, capable of only ever having been read: Vergils impius Furor rattles his chains, Statius Mars his freely opening gates, and Chaucers Mars the gate th at locks him in. Then, as most believe, before Vergil there was Apelles and his pain ting, which seems to have brought the cycle full circle with Chaucer. Statius Furor is also present in Chaucers Knights Tale in a reduced form, although not aurally ekphrasticized. Statius gives him the epithet laetus (happy), and as such one can imagine him as a terribly dangerous Mad Hatter type. This epithet survives into Boccaccios Teseida as well as Chaucer: Yet saugh I Woodnesse, laughynge in his rage (I.2011). Woodnesse is Madness, and Madness is Furor, who is here associated through his maniacal laughing (in his rage) with th e aural ekphrasis of Mars: And therout came a rage. (I.1985). By robbing Statius laetus Furor of his richness as a character in Mars retinue, both Chaucer and his Knight exercise control over him. Chaucer says that he laughs, not that he is happy; laetus although not really laughing, can mean fortunate, and as such through word substitution he becomes simply Madness. His curious companion, Virtus (Virtue), present in St atius Temple of Mars, makes an appearance in Boccaccios Teseida but is seemingly absent in Chaucers

PAGE 53

47 Knights Tale Elaine Fantham seems to think the juxtaposition of Virtue and Furor is most sinister and significant, and defers to F. M. Ahls opinion that ones uirtus is ones ability to destroy ( n.205). The fact that Furor is happy and Virtus is sad, and superlatively so, is yet anot her strange element here: tristissima can mean that Virtus is most sad, but it also denotes that she is al so a bringer of sorrow of the worst kind. So although ones uirtus is the measure of ones manliness, which is obviously augmented by prowess in battle, it is also by its very na ture a measure of ones prowess as bringer of Death; the force needed to motivate that prowess in the Thebaid is happy Furor, who is happy to oblige. However, Chaucer cha nges his companion and Virtus becomes Meschaunce [Misfortune],/With disconfort and sory contenaunce (I.2009). So there is then no longer any m easure of manliness or prowe ss or potency as killer in Chaucers Temple of Mars: there is onl y a simple crazy (Furor), a socially uncomfortable prosopopoeia of Misfortune, and random im ages of violence with no value and no measure. Chaucer has frustrated the power and influence of Mars and Furor through painting and Theseus encapsulation of bot h the battle and the temples in the amphitheatre. I believe this is the reason he depicts Mars, now a shadow of his former self, as rattling that ga te so furiously. Perhaps we may ev en interpret this aural ekphrasis as the empty Victorie! that Arc ite thinks he hears Mars speak.

PAGE 54

48 CHAPTER 4 AURAL EKPHRASIS OF THE FOREST OF TROPHIES: AL FUL OF CHIRKYNG WAS THAT SORY PLACE The last and least obscure of the aural e kphrases from Chaucers Knights Tale is that of the Forest of Trophies surroundi ng the Fence of a Thousand Furors, surrounding the Temple of Mars. What Mercury sees as he descends is marked in a sentence that begins the ekphrasis topou: hic steriles delubra notat Mavortia silvas horrescitque tuens. (VII.40) Here he marks barren woods, Mars shrine and shudders as he looks. Immediately the use of sterilis claims this place as one of death, associating it with the Underworld where all of the trees, except those producing fruit to torture Tantalus, are barren (Smolenaars 245). Although steriles modifies the femini ne, accusative plural silvas (woods), it is conspicuously plac ed next to delubra, the neuter accusative plural for shrines, which is in turn bei ng modified by Mavortia; conversely, the latter is conspicuously placed next to silvas. If we were to translate syntactically in addition to the above translation, then the shrines would be sterile a nd the woods Martian; this is of course not proper, but certainly poetica lly suggested because shrines is plural, thereby not exclusively referr ing to the Temple itself (contrary to Shackleton Baileys translation), and because of Me rcurys reaction to this sight. Mercury shudders at the woods and the shri nes and we wonder why since, as I have mentioned before, this is a god who, as Psychopompos is very familiar with the

PAGE 55

49 Underworld and all of its horrors. So what is it about these woods and shrines that affects him in this manner? In the Aeneid we see what happens to Aeneas trophies from Mezentius, whom he slays, the cruel king who lived to see his son dead: vota deum primo voctor solvebat Eoo. Ingentem quercum decisis undique ramis constituit tumulo fulgentiaque induit arma, Mezenti ducis exuvias, tibi, magne, tropaeum, bellipotens: aptat rorantis sanguine cristas telaque trunca viri et bis sex thoraca petitum perfossumque locis clipeumque ex aere sinistrae subligat atque ensem collo suspendit eburnum Tum socios, namque omnis eum stipata tegebat turba ducum, sic inci piens hostatur ovantis: haec sunt spolia et de rege superbo primitiae, manibusque meis Mezentius hic est. (XI.4; 15) he first In early light discharged his ritual vows As victor to the gods. A big oak trunk Lopped of its boughs, he planted on a mound And dressed it with Mezentius bright gear To make a trophy, god of war, to thee. He fitted it with a crest still oozing blood, With javelins of the warrior, and his cuirass, Twelve times cut and breached. On the left side He tied the bronze shield, and he slung the ivory Scabbard and sword ar ound the figures neck. Then he addressed the officers I stripped These arms from a proud king my offering now, First trophy in the war: Mezentius, Become this figure at my hands. (XI.4; 19)1 1 Fitzgeralds translation uses the word figure, but the Latin words he is translating are not figura For example, the dead tree dressed in Mezentius armor is, as Aeneas says when he addresses his troops in the Latin, Mezentius by my hands; the word for one of these trophies is tropaeum Considering the long history of the word figura and its diverse meanings and uses, it is a bit misleading to use figure here in Vergil, although the way Fitzgerald is translating it is probably (and appropriately) most akin to Ovids use of it in the sense of a metamorphosis (Auerbach 22). For further discussion of figura see Erich Auerbach, Figura, Scenes from the Dr ama of European Literature, Trans. Ralph Manheim (New York: Meridian Books, Inc., 1959): 11-76.

PAGE 56

50 Fitzgeralds note to this passage tells us that this ritual wa s performed in Vergils time by soldiers of the Roman army after battle succ esses (479), and it is a theme we see cropping up several times. In the following example, Evander, king of Pallanteum and ally of Aeneas, is mourning the death of his young son, Pa llas; the scene is the funeral of Pallas and Evander apostrophizes both Pallas and Turnus, who has killed him: Magna tropaea ferunt, qu os dat tua dextera Leto: tu quoque nunc stares immanis truncus in armis, esset par aetas et idem si robur ab annis, Turne. (XI.172) .Men to whom Your sword-arm dealt out death are here as trophies, Great ones; you, too, Tu rnus, would stand here, A huge trunk hung with arms, had age and strength And seasoning of years matched him with you. (XI.236) Later we see the Trojans accidentally cutti ng down a tree sacred to Faunus who, as a deity associated with life and fertility instea d of death like Mars, receives his offerings on a living tree: .nautis olim venerabile lignum, servati ex undis ubi figere dona solebant Laurenti divo et votas suspendere vestes, sed stirpem Teucri nullo discrimine sacrum sustulerant, puro ut posse nt concurrere campo. (XII.767-71) .those who survived Shipwreck or storm fixed votive offerings there And hung their garments to Laurentums god. The Trojans, treating it like any other, Had left a stump but lopped away the tree, So they could fight on a clear field. (XII.1039-44) The reason explicitly stated above for chopping down the tree certainly makes sense, but since we have already seen many trees felled to make offerings, it is tempting to think that the Trojans are such succe ssful warriors that they have even resorted to hubristically

PAGE 57

51 chopping down sacred trees in order to furn ish enough dead trunks for all of their votive trophies. It is hard to imagine the vast number of th ese trophies that woul d have to be erected from just one battle, but it is easy to imag ine them all collected around the Temple of Mars, forming a barren forest of Martian shrines that would make Mercury shudder. They could even be read as those thousand Rages that gird the house of Mars, almost dressing it, since this is the way Vergil desc ribes Aeneas affixing Mezentius armor to the dead trunk (XI.8). In this way they are also lin ked to Furor, since it is he and Ira that are helping Mars to dress in the Thebaid It seems highly unlikely that these important scenes would have escaped Statius, or that they would not figure in to his writing, since in the Thebaid we see Furor in his role as aide-de-plume Clearly the syntax and diction of the text suppor t the steriles delubraMavortia silvas as a Forest of Trophies. Chaucer would have had twofold exposure to this idea and the te rrible nature of it via Verg il and Statius, and Statius incorporation of the idea is certainly creativ e, albeit enigmatic. I believe that Chaucer understood the Forest of Trophies in a way fairly similar to how I have described it, and that he then incorporated this into his wall pa inting in the Temple of Mars. After Statius description of Vergils trophies Chaucer would certainly have to be innovative to match or better him, and this probabl y would have proved difficult since he was describing a flat surface painting instead of an imagined thre e-dimensional structure. To this endin addition to allowing a moment in Statius te xt (and through his, Vergils) to occupy the same and single moment as his own Knights Tale in his own Knights TaleChaucer created the aural ekphrasis Al ful of chirkyng was that sory place (I.2004). The

PAGE 58

52 chirkyng is the metal noise, to be sure omnipresent, of the creaking, rattling, and clashing of the vast Forest of Trophies as th ey are subjected to the same northern wind and hail as Mercury. These Vergilian trees would also explain why Chaucer takes time to describe the bareyne tr ees olde,/ Of stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde (I.1977 78): the chirkyng twenty-six lines later refers to them. This aural ekphrasis too di splays Chaucers opinion of the futility of war as we come to know this Forest of Trophies in hi s text as only the cr eepy sound of chirkyng, in which there is no honor and no measure of absent Virtus. In this chirkyng Chaucer has yet again removed the persona l gain of war stealing the tropaea of individual deathprowess and allure of war-booty in one move by using a noise that is scary not in a dominant, aggressive way so necessary in warf are, but in the repulsively eerie way of the Underworld. The point to which these three aural ekphras es tend is that Chaucer thinks much the same of war as Statius (and indeed Vergil), and these represent his inventive way of illustrating it. I do not think, however, that th e aural ekphrases were crafted in any oneupmanship manner. They allow Statius Thebaid and his use of sources, mostly Vergils Aeneid to exist simultaneously in three ve ry specific textual moments of his Knights Tale in what seem like a respectful and poetic ally imaginative furthering of their texts and opinions. Chaucers very Statian Mercury is silent but he is also the loudest and most ominously onomatopoeic noise of all as the Rumbel in a swough. He is a conspicuous symbol of the danger of holding ones tongue in the face of war, but also the uselessness of unleashing it and becoming a co ward whose talk is cheap. As Vergils Turnus reproaches Drances:

PAGE 59

53 .Sed non replanda est curia verbis, quae tuto tibi magna volant, dum distinet hostem agger murorem nec inundat sanguine fossae. Proinde tona eloquio, solitum tibi, meque timoris argue tu, Drance, quando tot stragis acervos Teucrorum tua dextra dedit passimque tropaeis insignis agros. (XI.380) No need to fill this ha ll with words, big words You can let fly in safety.Hammer away With all your rhetoric. Say Im afraid When your own sword has left the dead in heaps, The field brilliant with tr ophies everywhere. (XI.517f.) Turnus speech here links Mercury, Mars, a nd the Forest of Trophi es and perhaps we have here the beginning of Statius Book VII ekphrasis topou of his Temple of Mars. Chaucers Mars called rage rattles his gate to no effect; behind him in the Temple, Furor called simply Woodnesse cackles; a nd Virtus, now Meschaunce, just looks uncomfortable. The Forest of Trophies too make s its noise, an inglorious shadow of what Turnus above boasts of having caused. We have in these aural ekphrases of Chau cer a unique opportunity to listen to the sounds from the past that he has recorded together, his own co mpilation, to boldly and rhetorically confront us with what is quite possibly wars worst sensory element, but certainly its least suspected and prepared for: its noise. One can always close the eyes. These three collections of noise, then, are from the Roman past, but also the ancient Greek as the epithet Cyllenian reminds us. In these aural ekphrases is the resolution beyond that of Arcites futu re, of Mars and Mercurys ambage : Victorie! is not that of the soldier or the general or the politician in support, it belongs to laetus Mars who will be both happy and fortunate if we are foolis h enough to once again sile nce the rhetoric of peace by calling it coward, give Mars back hi s automaton gates, and re-introduce Virtus

PAGE 60

54 and Furor; essentially, if we return again to Statius, and are again swayed by Vergils Turnus.

PAGE 61

55 CHAPTER 5 CONCLUSIONS I have in the previous chapters pres ented my philological explanations for Chaucers noisy Martian wa ll paintings. To make my discussion more complete, however, I will in this chapter briefly talk about what his st range use of ekphrasis could mean for the critical and th eoretical traditions of this topos and medieval noise. Michael Baxandallin a book base d on a series of lectures designed to address the question, If we offer a statement about the caus es of a picture, what is the nature and basis of the statement?reminds us that The nature of languagemeans that the descripti on is less a representation of the picture, or even a representation of seeing the picture, than a re presentation of thinking about having seen the picture (11). When we talk about a picture at length, or ev en superficially, we almost surely describe what it looks like in some way; when we ta lk about Chaucers aural ekphrases, we must ultimately describe them philologically, because they are less representations of what the painting in the Temple of Mars looks like, or representations of what Arcite or the Knight see there, than representations of Chaucer remembering having read Statius and Vergil, and Statius remembering having read Vergil and Ovid. The use of ekphrasis in Hellenistic rhetoric was totally unrest ricted: it referred, most broadly, to a verbal description of something, almost anything, in life or ar t.it consistently carried with it the sense of a set verbal de vice that encouraged an extravagance in detail and vividness in representation, so thatour ears could serve as our eyes since [ekphrasis] must through hearing ope rate to bring about seeing. (Krieger 7)

PAGE 62

56 This could certainly be Chaucers object ive in representing Mercury, Mars, and the Forest of Trophies aurally, and since his tale is an ancient Greek legend he knows through a Roman author, this version of ekphr asis works well. Even though there is quite a bit of detail given about the Temple of Mars painting and even the Temple itself, most of it is spatially nons ensical; that is to say, that although certain images are described as existing in the painting, in what order or size they exis t is almost impossible to tell since the seer does not ha ve to see from left to right as one reads English, and there are no handy prepositions to give it away. In fact, as I stated earlier, the statue of Mars is even difficult to place, not to mention the stars above it or the figures at its feet. So if ekphrasis is the illusionary representation of the unrepresentable like Keats Ode on a Grecian Urn (Krieger xv), th en Chaucers particular flavor of Martian ekphrasis is a cache of ostraka They are illusionary not in that they are unrepresentable (each ostrakon certainly is, and we can certainly im agine them together as well, in a heap), but that they ever were parts of th e same urn and can be represented that way through language, which is at on ce the tool we use to glue th em together, and that which Chaucer used to smash them apart. It is natu ral for us to attempt to rebuild these pieces because they make us so uncomfortable, but what we are building is a chimaera, a monster. I have done it, am doing it in this thesis, and I have said, We can imagine Mercury/Mars/the Forest of Tr ophies; this seems to be wh at Chaucer wanted us to do, and his text asks us to do. But ultimately he has created tangible aural holes that are also ostraka ostracized aporia if you will, which, Protean as they are, evade all attempts (including mine) at creating our monster-urn, because as we theorize on the painting as a whole, we put the ostraka together without the aural ekphrasis pieces; as we theorize on

PAGE 63

57 the aural ekphrases, we put them t ogether and thereby exclude other ostraka ; and as we theorize on just the ostraka -images themselves, we impossibly leave them in their heap because otherwise we are right back at a complete monster-urn with no aural ekphrasis ostraka Chaucer has given us a Protean puz zle that our textual archaeology only complicates further, and as such his Martian ek phrasis is a description of the myth of an urn, its whole the pieces of many other urns fit ting perfectly together; that is to say, the myth of a painting that visually provides us with the big picture at the same time that it denies it, showing only its parts, which ha ve only ever been textual genetics. The Sphinx, stealing from the Muses, could do no bette r than this. Perhaps his aural ekphrasis is a maneuver intended to explain the very nature of ekphrasis (or at least the gr eat ekphrases worth imitating), which is to say that they cannot be translated without describing an enti rely new object or place; it is possible that the confines of at least one of the languages will also pres cribe an entirely new way of looking at it. We do not have a word in Eng lish that is associated with gold, wind, and hearing, nor do we have a verb that means to sing, warn, and be silver ; the English shield of Aeneas is not the same as the Latin one because the ekphrasis cannot possibly be. The best Chaucer could do was to create a new and fantastic way of referring us to the original or originals that would leave basically intact the referents. Considering how he believed sound to work as eyr ybroken, it w ould not be a great stretch for him to move from pieces of air, to the pieces of original text to which they refer. Jeffrey Cohens article on medieval noi se, although it does not discuss these aural ekphrases found in Chaucers Knights Tale approaches the strange animal, as it were, of noise itself: Noise is body, mons ter, materiality, the ot her, the sound of all

PAGE 64

58 those differences that seem to have been exclud ed but inhabit the heart of identity (269). Cohen further explores the rhetorical ramificatio ns of his noise monster, from blasts of noise (such as battle criesas the explosiv e negative [270]), to the degeneration or downright absence of noise: To rob member s of the lower classes of their humanity through the removal of their language is, mo reover, a common rhetorical strategy for medieval writers (273). What we have in Chaucer is the tangible, present absence of noise that was never noise in that it was onl y ever visual (even if by reading the source texts), or in that it was only ever the visual suggestion of noise (through th e Latin of the source texts); which is certainl y to say a noise-monster. As in Cohens description, the sounds of the aural ekphrases do inhabit the hear t of identity in that they inhabit other, source texts at the same time, which makes th em the sounds of thos e different texts and the differences between them; at the same ti me as this they are also the sounds of Chaucers text and the differences between it and its sources. And while the different translations of crepare that dominate the aural ekphrases link Chaucers ultimately Christian text with its pagan sources, thereby celebrating sound, they also serve to silence them through translation, the removal of their language. The Lernaean hydra-like nature of thes e noisy wall paintings in Chaucers Temple of Mars allows for an inexhaustible number of approaches that continually multiply and complicate their polytropism; as su ch this thesis project will always be incomplete. What I have tried to do is offe r an explanation of these strange occurrences of sound without totalizing (respectfully doi ng my duty by each authors work), and which is fairly representative of appropriate criticism while containing it all within the limits of a thesis. When Vergil tells us in one reading of auratis, And here you all

PAGE 65

59 hear the silvery goose as he fl utters we are invited to lo ok on the shield of Aeneas with Aeneas, to look in the past and see its past future, and to hear the proleptic metal handiwork of the immortal Vulcan; when Chaucer says Ther saugh Ia rumbel in a swougha rage and swich a veze, that he made al the gate for to rese[and]...al ful of chirkyng was that sory place, we are invited to read Vergil with Chaucer and Statius. We are, in other words, invited to hear what we can see, to read what we have read, and through these, to become ourselves part of the Martian ekphrasis.

PAGE 66

60 LIST OF REFERENCES Auerbach, Erich. Figura. Scenes fr om the Drama of European Literature Trans. Ralph Manheim. New York: Meridian Books, Inc., 1959. Baxandall, Michael. Patterns of Intention: On the Histor ical Explanation of Pictures New Haven: Yale UP, 1985. Boccaccio, Giovanni. The Book of Thes eus (Teseida delle Nozze dEmilia) Trans Bernadette Marie McCoy. New York: Teesdale, 1974. Boccaccio, Giovanni. Theseid of the Nuptials of Emilia (Teseida delle nozze di Emilia Trans. Vincenzo Traversa. New York: Peter Lang, 2002. Chaucer, Geoffrey. The Riverside Chaucer Ed. Larry D. Benson. 3rd ed. Boston: Houghton, 1987. Cohen, Jeffrey J. Kyte Oute Yugilmen t: An Introduction to Medieval Noise. Exemplaria 16.2 (2004): 267-76. DiMarco, Vincent J. The Riverside Chaucer Ed. Larry D. Benson. 3rd ed. Boston: Houghton, 1987, 826-841. Dodds, E. R. The Greeks and the Irrational Berkeley: University of California Press, 1951. Dominik, William J. The Mythic Voice of Statius: Power and Politics in the Thebaid. Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1994. Dominik, William J. Speech and Rhetoric in Statius Thebaid. Hildesheim: OlmsWeidmann, 1994. Fantham, Elaine. Envy and fear and the begetter of hate: Statius Thebaid and the genesis of hatred. The Passions in Roman Thought and Literature Eds. Susanna Morton Braund and Christopher Gill. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1997. Fleming, John V. Classical Imitation a nd Interpretation in Chaucers Troilus Lincoln:University of Nebraska Press, 1990. Fredrick, David. Haptic Poetics. Arethusa 32 (1999): 49-83.

PAGE 67

61 Hanning, Robert W. The Struggle betw een Noble Designs and Chaos: The LiteraryTradition of Chaucers Knights Tale. The Literary Review 23.4 (1980 Summer): 519-541. Kolve, V. A. Chaucer and the Imagery of Narrative: The First Five Canterbury Tales. Stanford: Stanford UP, 1984. Krieger, Murray. Ekphrasis: Th e Illusion of the Natural Sign Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1992. Lenardon, Robert J. and Mark P. O. Morford. Classical Mythology. 7th ed. New York: Oxford UP, 2003. Matthews, Victor J. Antimachus of Colophon: Text and Commentary Leiden: E. J.Brill, 1996. Quintilian. Institutio Oratoria Trans. H. E. Butler. Vol. 3. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1976. Roney, Lois. Chaucers Knights Tale and Theories of Scholastic Psychology Tampa: University of South Florida Press, 1990. Smolenaars, J. J. L. Statius Thebaid VII: A Commentary Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1994. Statius, Publius Papinius. The Thebaid Vol. 2-3. Trans. D. R. Shackleton Bailey. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2003. Statius, Publius Papinius. The Thebaid Trans. Charles Stanley Ross. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 2004. Traupman, John C. Latin & English Dictionary New York: Bantam, 1995. Vergil. The Aeneid Trans. Robert Fitzgerald. Introd. Philip Hardie. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1992. Vergil. The Aeneid Ed. J. B. Greenough. 1900. Perseus 27 May 2005. Available online at < www.perseus.tufts.edu/cache/pe rscoll_Greco-Roman.html#text1 >.

PAGE 68

62 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Valerie Ann Leitner holds two Bachelor of Arts degrees, summa cum laude in English literature and classica l studies from the University of Florida (August 2000). She received her Master of Arts in English from the University of Florida in May 2006. Her areas of specialization are medieval to early modern English lite rature, and classical rhetoric and philology.


Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UFE0014349/00001

Material Information

Title: Aural Ekphrasis and Statian Sound in Chaucer's Temple of Mars
Physical Description: Mixed Material
Copyright Date: 2008

Record Information

Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
System ID: UFE0014349:00001

Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UFE0014349/00001

Material Information

Title: Aural Ekphrasis and Statian Sound in Chaucer's Temple of Mars
Physical Description: Mixed Material
Copyright Date: 2008

Record Information

Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
System ID: UFE0014349:00001


This item has the following downloads:


Full Text

























Copyright 2006

by

Valerie Ann Leitner



































To OibTg















ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank the members of my committee, James J. Paxson and Melvyn

New, for their help and guidance.
















TABLE OF CONTENTS


page

A C K N O W L E D G M E N T S ................................................................................................. iv

ABSTRACT .............. .................. .......... .............. vi

CHAPTER

1 STATUS' THEBAID, BOCCACCIO'S TESEIDA, AND CHAUCER'S
KNIGHT'S TALE: A GENERAL COMPARISON ................. ............................1

2 AURAL EKPHRASIS OF MERCURY: "A RUMBEL IN A SWOUGH" .............17

3 AURAL EKPHRASIS OF MARS: "A RAGE AND SWICH A VEZE" .................32

4 AURAL EKPHRASIS OF THE FOREST OF TROPHIES: "AL FUL OF
CHIRKYNG WAS THAT SORY PLACE"............. ...........................................48

5 CON CLU SION S .................................. .. .......... .. .............55

L IST O F R E FE R E N C E S ....................................................................... ... ................... 60

B IO G R A PH IC A L SK E TCH ..................................................................... ..................62
















Abstract of Thesis Presented to the Graduate School
of the University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree of Master of Arts

AURAL EKPHRASIS AND STATION SOUND IN CHAUCER'S TEMPLE OF MARS

By

VALERIE ANN LEITNER

May 2006

Chair: James J. Paxson
Major Department: English

Geoffrey Chaucer's Knight's Tale, based on Giovanni Boccaccio's Teseida and

Statius' Thebaid, contains an ekphrasis or description of the paintings inside its Temple

of Mars which seems to suggest that they make noise. I believe these noises are taken

from Statius' descriptions (who in turn is imitating Vergil) of Mercury, Mars, and the

Forest of Trophies, and are meant to represent through sound visually depicted, primary

textual objects. I call this manner of sound-description "aural ekphrasis." My continuing

work in this area adds a unique philological comparison of texts and subsequent

conclusions to the conversation about the strangely audio-visual paintings in Chaucer's

Temple of Mars.















CHAPTER 1
STATUS' THEBAID, BOCCACCIO'S TESEIDA, AND CHAUCER'S KNIGHT'S
TALE: A GENERAL COMPARISON

The story of the Seven against Thebes received several lengthy (and inconsistent)

literary treatments in antiquity-Aeschylus and Antimachus of Colophon's1 versions

stand out as well-known examples-but the best-known and most influential, begetting,

as it were, a line of works by authors such as Chaucer, Dante, Spenser, and Shakespeare,

whether through primary or secondary exposure, is the Thebaid of Publius Papinius

Statius of the first century C.E. His horrifically gory descriptions of battle and

misoporpaks (hater of war) presentation of war (and War) mark his epic adaptation of the

famous legend of Amphiaraus, Capaneus, Hippomedon, Parthenopaeus, Tydeus, and

Adrastus (the sole survivor of the Seven, incidentally) accompanying Polynices in a

campaign against his brother, Eteocles: the two sons of Oedipus battling for control of

the throne of Thebes.

There are twelve books in Statius' Thebaid, the ultimate fratricidal confrontation

between these two brothers not occurring until Book XI; Book XII then tells of Creon's

cruel edict against burial, and Theseus' victorious campaign against him. It is at

Theseus' triumphant entrance into Athens in Book XII, after his defeat of the Amazons,

that both Giovanni Boccaccio's Teseida delle Nozze d'Emilia (The Thesiad of the

1For both Greek and English versions of Aeschylus' Seven Against Thebes see Aeschylus, Seven Against
Thebes, 1926, ed. and trans. Herbert Weir Smyth, Perseus, 27 May 2005, available at
. For the extant fragment of
Antimachus of Colophon see Victor J. Matthews, Antimachus of Colophon: Text and Commentary.
(Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1996).









Nuptials of Emily) and Chaucer's Knight's Tale pick up the story.2 The time Statius

spends on his characters, descriptions of the horrors of war, the consequences of both

divine and mortal hatred, and the cursed history of Thebes-so vital to the story's

conflict and its participants because of the miasma it has left on them all-indeed

accounts for much of those eleven books (Ross x). It is these elements that give Statius'

version of the legend its emotional power, and as Boccaccio and Chaucer later borrow

and translate Statius, their texts are themselves stained with the miasma of all that makes

the Theban saga so terrible as the ancient example par excellence of the consequences of

the unloosed reign of chaotic Mars. As we will later see, the stain becomes an aural one

as Chaucer takes images for his Temple of Mars from Statius-and through him,

Vergil-and describes them, not visually, but through sound in what I call "aural

ekphrasis."

Since Statius chose to highlight the emotional facets of the sad futility of human

conflict, he allowed the narrative to hover over them, pinning the reader there to writhe as

every mortal within it does; a quickly moving plot was minor to this point, and as a result

his Thebaid has been criticized as lagging (Ross x). Statius has often had the misfortune

of being compared to the two seemingly apotheosized fathers of epic, Homer and Vergil,

consequently condemned as a shoddy imitator, bad narrator, and repetitive, among other

things (Ross xvii). But while he does certainly borrow from these two masters (a known

Roman literary tradition), he approaches them humbly and with veneration, never

2 For further summary, comparison, and contrast of the three texts see Robert W. Hanning, "'The Struggle
between Noble Designs and Chaos': The Literary Tradition of Chaucer's Knight's Tale," The Literary
Review 23.4 (1980 Summer): 519-541; and Statius, The Thebaid, Trans. Charles Stanley Ross (Baltimore:
Johns Hopkins UP 2004), ix-xxxvii; and Giovanni Boccaccio, The Book of Theseus (Teseida delle Nozze
d'Emilia), Trans. Bernadette Marie McCoy (New York: Teesdale, 1974), 2-17.









meaning for his Thebaid to enter into competition with their works. He addresses his

epic in an epigraph at the end of Book XII: "So thrive, Ipray,/ but do not envy the divine

Aeneid./ Follow well back. Always adore her traces" (Ross 354).

Statius has also endured comparison to other, lesser-known writers, such as

Antimachus of Colophon, whose Thebaid is so fragmentary and therefore offers so little

evidence that one wonders about the negativity directed towards Statius from so many

directions (Matthews 25). F. M. Ahl presents a prudent opinion of the matter, which I

find helpful for thinking of criticism of Statius, or indeed any author, as a base imitator:

"Much of the debate... seems based on the assumption that Antimachus was long and

tedious. Scholars who like Statius tend to dissociate him from Antimachus; those who

dislike him presume he is an imitator of Antimachus" (Matthews 25). My point in

mentioning these prejudices among classicists over Statius' sources and his use of them is

to illustrate their subjectivity to personal taste and canonical favor, and to situate my

argument firmly apart from them. For my examination of a very small slice of Statius'

Thebaid, the sources used are a careful enrichment of the text, adding depth to the

descriptions and prompting strong emotional responses, stronger for the reader familiar

with them; they are not, in my opinion, gratuitously plugged into the text (if I thought

they were I would be examining Vergil and Ovid's influence on Chaucer, which I am

not).3 I believe that Statius' careful use of Vergil and Ovid (his two sources on which I

will focus), in particular places or moments is in turn used by Chaucer in at least his

aurally ekphrasticized segments of the wall paintings in the Temple of Mars of his


3 For Chaucer as "for his day, a considerable and sophisticated 'classicist'" (xiii), and a discussion of
Chaucer's own use of the names of Latin poets as sources (including Vergil and Statius) see John Fleming,
Classical Imitation and Interpretation in Chaucer's Troilus (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1990),
56, 73f









Knight's Tale. I think it is highly probable that Chaucer would have at minimum

recognized Statius' use of Vergil and Ovid (and the latter's use of the former) since he

seems to have known them independently, so that he should have known that in adopting

the three images from Statius he was also adopting three genealogies of imitation, which

I think he then aurally ekphrasticized.

Statius' Thebaid, as the standardized version of the Seven against Thebes legend

during the Middle Ages, was fourteenth-century Italian vernacular writer Giovanni

Boccaccio's source for his Teseida delle Nozze d'Emilia (The Thesiad of the Nuptials of

Emily) (Ross xviiif). But there is a large departure in Boccaccio's version, even though

his keeps the twelve-book format and very basic background of the story. The Teseida

presents a less weighty story of Teseo (Theseus) as orderer of chaos, magical transformer

of war-like Ipolita (Hippolyta) and her wild Amazons (including her sister Emilia whom

we never see in Statius) into pleasingly well-mannered and submissive wives-to-be, and

mediator between Arcita and Palemone in their struggle over Emilia. So Eteocles and

Polynices keep their royal blood and noble mien (and their lives), but seem to lose all else

from Statius in order to become for Boccaccio Arcita and Palemone, respectively, the

love-sick brothers willing to die and kill each other not for control of Thebes, but to

possess a domesticated Amazon princess. Palemone wins this contest and he and Emilia

wed after briefly mourning Arcita (Hanning 523f).

Although it is well-known that Chaucer knew the Teseida (but perhaps did not have

access to a copy with explanatory glosses, or chiodi),4 and that these elements, which


4 For more information about this, dates concerning Chaucer's exposure to Boccaccio, the Knight's Tale,
etc. see the explanatory notes to the Knight's Tale by Vincent J. DiMarco, The Riverside Chaucer, ed.
Larry D. Benson. 3rd ed. (Boston: Houghton, 1987), 826f. In addition, all Chaucer quotations in this
paper will come from this edition.









carry over into the Knight's Tale, attest to that, Boccaccio's version does not remain

completely faithful to the philological facets of Statius' text that are so important to the

game I believe Chaucer is playing with ekphrasis. As a result, it is not necessary to

dedicate a great deal of general discussion to Boccaccio's Teseida, and I will later in this

chapter talk about those particulars I find appropriate and illuminating.5 This is not to

say that Boccaccio's Teseida is not important to Chaucer's Knight's Tale; simply put, the

way Boccaccio uses sound in his Temple of Mars illustrates that Chaucer did not use him

as the source for his noise, and that it is Statius and his use of Vergil that inform

Chaucer's aural ekphrases.

Chaucer's Knight's Tale, first in the Ellesmere ordering of The Canterbury Tales,

probably predates that collection and some argue that it is a version of"Palamon and

Arcite, another poem, but edited to fit into the grouping of pilgrimage tales (DiMarco

826). It is significantly shorter than either the Thebaid or Teseida, the Knight's frequent

use of occupatio moving the tale along. Arranged into four parts-as opposed to the

twelve books of its predecessors-Chaucer follows Boccaccio's narrative in beginning at

the end of Statius' Book XII; he also keeps predominant Palamon and Arcite as prisoners

and love-sufferers, and the contest for Emelye's hand in marriage. Chaucer's Theseus

more carefully controls and "civilizes" the tournament than does Teseo, imposing more

strict and elaborate rules of engagement, and building the structure within which they will

fight specifically to enclose that act of violence (Teseo's already exists). The Statian

horrors of war inherited by the Knight's Tale are primarily encapsulated in that theatre,


5 For a thorough but not exhaustive study of the influence of Statius and Boccaccio on Chaucer's Knight's
Tale see Robert W. Hanning, "'The Struggle between Noble Designs and Chaos': The Literary Tradition
of Chaucer's Knight's Tale," The Literary Review 23.4 (1980 Summer): 519-41. I use his helpful and
well-balanced summary as a guide for some of the following paragraph.









certainly in the battle it contains, but also specifically inside the Temple of Mars in the

form of wall paintings. For Chaucer, the temples to Venus, Mars, and Diana are inside

the structure somehow, while in Statius and Boccaccio the temples are the real versions

in their appropriate locations which a messenger visits on behalf of the character; e.g., in

Boccaccio the Prayer of Arcita travels to the Temple of Mars in Thrace.

The paintings, then, as they tend more toward the Thebaid than the Teseida, they

also become more strange and inexplicable. Indeed, the Temple of Mars is one of the

most puzzling spaces in all of Chaucer, and one which many, when writing about the

Knight's Tale, dismiss as an aberration, gloss over with some totalizing explanation, or

ignore completely. That the paintings on the wall of the temple of Mars are described in

such a way that they appear to make noise is a problem that makes them especially odd,

not to mention the many seemingly antecedentless but also proverbial images of violence

depicted there. As the note to line 1979 in The Riverside Chaucer states, "These sounds,

like those of I.1985-86, are literally impossible to have been represented in a painting"

(835). Although a few critics have posited good explanations that are certainly supported

by the text, I have always thought that there is more happening in those paintings that

renders those explanations somewhat hollow and dissatisfying to me.

V. A. Kolve, in his Chaucer and the Imagery of Narrative, devotes an entire

chapter to the Knight, discussing at length the "two great images essential to the

narrative, the prison/garden and the tournament amphitheatre" (86). He argues that we

should imagine the theatres of both Chaucer and Boccaccio to look something like the

Colosseum in Rome. This image is both convenient and helpful in order to incorporate

the three temples into the structure while still adhering to its general description; it is the









one I generally prefer. Since, as Kolve says, "Nothing that survives from the visual arts

during Chaucer's lifetime furnishes adequate equivalents to these paintings, nor can any

example from the tradition we are about to consider rival their density of specification"

(115), it is necessary to closely examine and incorporate sources. However, some of

those sources that Kolve draws from are images of Planetenkinder ("children of the

planets"), from a fifteenth-century German or Dutch Hausbuch, which he uses because he

believes that the paintings in the temples of Venus and Mars are indicative of their

planetary influences (which the Hausbuch illustrates), rather than their mythological

ones; Diana is the reverse. While these certainly contain likenesses to what Chaucer

describes, and while I think it is possible that Chaucer could have been imagining these,

it seems as if Kolve is perhaps going a bit far afield for reasons, especially since he

neglects to explain how the paintings seem to emit sound. He says later: "The Hausbuch

pictures, which depict only planetary influence, display the beneficent and neutral as well

as malign aspects of any planet's influence and offer for each a design that, if a bit more

crowded and irregular than is common in medieval pictorial tradition, is nevertheless

located firmly in two-dimensional space" (122). Two-dimensionality is a good start, and

this explanation certainly fits well into Kolve's book, but it simply does not offer

anything towards understanding the noise dimension of the paintings.

Searching the iconographical tradition of the time (and later) is generally helpful,

but remains for me insufficient, I have chosen to examine the philological one that The

Knight's Tale inherits: "Ekphrasis, meanwhile, pretends to suspend linear narrative in

order to reproduce the effect of a temporally arrested work of visual art in stone or paint.









As Andrew Laird6 put it, 'as language draws attention to the medium of the artwork, it

also draws attention to itself as a medium'" (Fredrick, 58).

Lois Roney's lively Chaucer's Knight's Tale and Theories of Scholastic

Psychology presents an interesting alternative explanation of the third part of The

Knight's Tale. She uses known elements from the medieval "3-Acts mind model,"7

based on Aristotle and elaborated by Aquinas, to interpret the wall paintings in the three

temples, the descriptions of Lycurge and Emetreus, and Saturn's monologue, as a

sequence of long sophismata8 meant to illustrate Chaucer's view "that language use and

thinking processes interact together to form/reveal the subjectivity of the individual

human mind.., human subjectivity must therefore be included in any theory of universal

human psychology" (162). In the fourteenth century these were all separate subjects, and

Roney believes Chaucer wished to combine them here. The images in the Temple of

Mars are therefore so strange because they demonstrate Act 1 of this model, "simple

apprehension of objects," which is to say that one cannot find relations between them

using judgments (Act 2), or reasoning (Act 3) since they are uncombinedd objects" that

do not "interact with each other" (164-66). They are also "perceived on the outward

bodily senses as existing and present," as opposed to the paintings for Venus, which are

"inward" (167). It is in this subjective, outward and physical way that we are then to

6 Andrew Laird, "Utfigura poesis: Writing Art and the Art of Writing in Augustan Poetry," Art and Text
in Roman Culture ed. JaS Elsner (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1996), 75-102.

7For further discussion of this and 'i. i,,*, ',. insolubilia, and sophismata see the background sections in
Section III preceding Chapter 4 in Lois Roney, Chaucer's Knight's Tale and Theories of Scholastic
Psychology (Tampa: University of South Florida Press, 1990), 135-162.

8 Although this is a versatile term that could refer to many particular types of logical or verbal problems,
Roney uses it in only one way, as the "sophismata sentence": "test-case sentences meant to be used to
bring out abstract problems of metaphysics, natural science, or such." An example she gives for the
"natural science" problem of "the concept of instantaneous velocity: 'Socrates will move faster than
Socrates now moves'" (138).









interpret not only the weird images, but also the odd sounds present there that Roney only

mentions in passing as she focuses on the visual: "rumble," "rese," and "chirkyng." I

will argue that these sounds are not present in the Temple as sound but as visual images

which must be interpreted by associating them with a tradition of sources; they can

therefore not be subsumed under the rubric of "simple apprehension of objects" by

anyone other than Arcite, who is the only one who can passively view them, and then

only up until the point where the Knight says, using his cryptic expression, "Ther saugh

I" (1995).

The issue of noise in Chaucer's Temple of Mars paintings could simply result from

the desire to economize space and arrangement of objects, both in the text of an ekphrasis

and what it describes. As Michael Baxandall point out, "Again, there is an awkwardness,

at least, about dealing with a simultaneously available field-which is what a picture is-

in a medium as temporally linear as language: for instance, it is difficult to avoid

tendentious reordering of the picture simply by mentioning one thing before another" (3).

My speculations on Chaucer's reasons for such ekphrases I will explore later, after close

examination of several texts. For now, though, I will move away from the criticisms

which, though thoughtful and inventive (Kolve and Roney serving as examples), are in

my opinion insufficient and lacking because they do not adequately address the "sound

quality" of these paintings.

The aural ekphrases-sound-descriptions of visual objects that Chaucer uses in his

Temple of Mars on which I will later focus-are direct "shadows," mainly of Statius'

descriptions in his Thebaid, but also bringing additional richness from Vergil and Ovid.

Since most of the lengthy Temple of Mars section from Boccaccio is not a crucial part of









my discussion (even though there are small sections that Chaucer seems to have imported

wholesale), it is not imperative that I include it here, and will therefore only provide

sections when necessary.

Statius' version of the Temple of Mars is meant to be the main seat of Mars in

Thrace, and although it has walls of iron crafted with horrors by Vulcan, it is not an

actual painting itself as it is in Chaucer. Since Statius' version is also unlike both

Boccaccio's and Chaucer's in that the two brothers are Eteocles and Polynices, there is

no Arcita or Arcite to visit such a temple and pray to the god. Rather, it is Mercury who

is sent by Jupiter to Thrace in Book VII of the Thebaid with a command for Mars himself

to stop dallying and goad on the Seven against Thebes and their forces (who have

stopped in order to participate in the funeral games for Lycurgus' son). In the following

from Shackleton Bailey's translation we see some of the horrible characters from

Chaucer's paintings, and some candidates for the weird images as well.9

He spoke and the Cyllenian was nearing the land of
(35) Thrace. As he glided down from the Bear's polar gate, he
was carried this way and that by the tempest endemic to
the region, the racks of rain clouds spread over the sky,
and the first gapings of Aquilo's mouth. His golden mantle
rattles with pouring hail and the shady Arcadian hat gives
(40) scant cover. Here he marks barren woods, Mars' shrine,
and shudders as he looks. There under distant Haemus
is the god's ungentle house, girt with a thousand Rages.
The sides are of iron structure, the trodden thresholds
are fitted with iron, the roof rests on iron-bound pillars.
(45) Phoebus' opposing ray takes hurt, the very light fears the
dwelling and a harsh glare glooms the stars. The guard is
worthy of the place. Wild Impulse leaps from the outer
gates and blind Evil and ruddy Angers and bloodless
Fears. Treachery lurks with hidden swords and Strife hold-

9 I have not reproduced the original here, because when I later refer to specific lines I will supply the Latin.
I have also not supplied the complete Ross version of this passage because I personally prefer the
Shackleton Bailey, but will later also supply those from Ross when I discuss them.









(50) ing two-edged steel. The court resounds with countless
Threats, Valour most somber stands in the centre, and joy-
ful Rage and armed Death with bloodstained countenance
there sit. On the altars is blood of wars, that only, and fire
snatched from burning towns. Trophies from many lands
(55) and captured peoples marked the temple's sides and top,
and fragments of iron-wrought gates and warship keels
and empty chariots and heads by chariots crushed, groans
too almost. Every violence, truly, every wound. Every-
where himself was to be seen, but nowhere with easy look;
(60) thus had Mulciber portrayed him with his divine art.

Boccaccio removes Mercury as messenger and inserts the prayer of Arcita,

anthropomorphized into the messenger Prayer. His gloss to this transformation reads:

"Here the author imagines that the Prayer has the shape of a person, so that by making it

a person he takes the occasion, consequently, to describe the house of Mars, as something

seen by this Prayer" (196).10 So in this description there is no "I saugh" equivalent as we

see in the Knight's version, but there is also less pagan agency since Mercury is removed

and Jupiter's place is usurped by Arcita himself. Boccaccio's departure from Statius for

this section, aside from the aforementioned, is mostly in small details.

Chaucer hugs close to Boccaccio for the exterior description of his temple and its

grounds. There are quite a few more lines than those I am reproducing here, but their

images have nothing to do with the "noisy" sections of the wall paintings.

First on the wal was peynted a forest, 1975
In which their dwelleth neither man ne best,
With knotty, knarry, bareyne trees olde,
Of stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde,
In which their ran a rumbel in a swough, 1979
As though a storm sholde bresten every bough.


10 Unless otherwise stated, all Boccaccio translations will come from the McCoy version; she works from a
different manuscript than Traversa, so when appropriate I will also include his version. Incidentally,
McCoy renders the Prayer female; Traversa uses the neuter pronoun when referring to "it." I will also not
include the chiodi (which are in McCoy's translation and not Traversa's) for this section as they are rather
lengthy and do not figure into my argument.









And dounward from an hille, under a bente,
Ther stood the temple of Mars armypotente,
Wroght al of burned steel, of which the entree
Was long and street, and gastly for to see.
And therout came a rage and swich a veze
That it made al the gate for to rese. 1986
The northern light in at the dores shoon,
For wyndowe on the wal ne was their noon,
Thurgh which men myghten any light discern.
The dore was al of adamant eterne, 1990
Yclenched overthwart and endlong
With iren tough; and for to make it strong,
Every pyler, the temple to sustene,
Was tonne-greet, of iren bright and shene.
Ther saugh I first the derke imaginyng
Of Felonye, and al the compassyng; 1996
The cruel Ire, reed as any gleede;
The pykepurs, and eek the pale Drede;
The smylere with the knyf under the cloke;
The shepne brennynge with the blake smoke; 2000
The tresoun of the mordrynge in the bedde;
The open were, with wounds al bibledde;
Contek, with blody knyf and sharp manace.
Al ful of chirkyng was that sory place. 2004

In the next three chapters, each devoted to a different "noisy" moment in the wall

paintings of Chaucer's Temple of Mars, I will argue that what appears to be a moment of

traditional ekphrasis, i.e. originally a visual object or scene described in language,11 albeit

a strange one, is actually a much more complicated version of that trope: the ekphrasis of

those paintings seems to suggest that they make noise in places. The sounds represented

in the paintings themselves are what I call "aural ekphrases," or the descriptions of visual

(and in this case painted) objects by means of the sounds associated with their linguistic

antecedents in other, source texts (in this case Statius, Ovid and Vergil). In other words,

11 For more on Hellenistic use of ekphrasis see Murray Krieger's Ekphrasis: The Illusion of the Natural
Sign (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1992), 7f. I prefer, since I am working with ancient sources, to work
from this definition rather than the one commonly known and used (especially by Krieger), by Leo Spitzer,
"The 'Ode on a Grecian Urn,' or Content vs. Metagrammar," Essays on English and American Literature
ed. Anna Hatcher (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1962), 72: "...ekphrasis, the poetic description of a pictorial
or sculptural work of art."









these are sounds that describe written objects drawn from primary texts which are then

those visually represented in Chaucer's wall paintings. Below I have provided snippets

from Vergil's ekphrasis of Aeneas' shield; I do this because although I believe Chaucer

ultimately takes the "noises" for his innovation of aural ekphrasis from the sound-

language of Statius, Statius primarily takes it from Vergil; and Vergil could have chosen

a shield for his ekphrasis and had such success with its blending of sight and sound,

knowing of the natural predisposition for the communication of metals inherent in the

Latin language. It is this metallic language, then, that is transferred from Latin shield to

Middle English wall; when we hear the wall, we are meant to remember the shield by

seeing Statian Mercury hovering above the Temple of Mars. In this way it looks like

(and why not since "seem" and "appear" both have visual connotations anyway) each

aural object that I will discuss in this thesis-Mercury, Furor, and the Forest of

Trophies-exists as part of a new trivium of Lady Memory: sound, text, and sight. And

if this trivium were to have a paradigmatic representation in painting, I would imagine it

would look something like the early fourteenth-century "Lady Memory and the doors of

sight and hearing" (Kolve 26).

Probably the two best examples of the history of similar aural-visual occurrences in

Greek and Roman writing, and indeed the most well-known ekphrases in ancient

literature, are the shield of Achilles in Homer's Iliad, and that of Aeneas in Vergil's

Aeneid. For these examples the sounds are mostly ornamental (although it is helpful to

know the stories depicted), and I believe Chaucer changes this with his aural ekphrasis so

that it becomes imperative for the reader to know to what text/s he is referring. Even

though Chaucer did not have direct access to Homer, he surely would have been exposed









to his description of the shield of Achilles at least through Vergil's imitation.

Incidentally, Aeneas' shield was crafted by Vulcan, the same god who, for Statius,

wrought the metalwork that "groans too almost" (VII.59) for Mars' temple in Thrace.

There are four outstanding examples on Aeneas' shield where Vergil muddies the

waters between sight and sound. The first and most important is his singular "silvery

goose" version of Manlius and the geese that saved Rome from the Gauls in 390 B.C.E.:

In summus custos Tarpeiae Manlius arcis
stabat protemplo et Capitolia celsa tenebat,
Romul eoque recens horrebat regia culmo.
Atque hic auratis volitans argenteus anser
porticibus Gallos in limine adesse canebat. (VIII.652-56)12

On the shield's upper quarter Manlius,
Guard of the Tarpeian Rock, stood fast
Before the temple and held the Capitol,
Where Romulus' house was newly thatched and rough.
Here fluttering through gilded porticos
At night, the silvery goose warned of the Gauls
Approaching.... (VIII.884-90)

The bird does indeed flutter on the shield ("volitans"), but since this participle can also be

translated as "flying around" or "flying to and fro" (which are visual verbs and easily

depicted, with sound secondary to their nature), "flutter" is only one translation, and the

one most allied with sound since in English it has a certain onomatopoeic quality which

"volitans" simply does not. What makes "flutter" a splendid translation is the word in the

Latin before it, "auratis." This word, as the adjective "gilded" and modifying "porticos,"

is conspicuously placed nearer the goose, which is flying and presumably making noise,

which reminds the reader that "auratis" can also be a verbal form (present indicative


12 All Latin quotations of the Aeneid come from Vergil, The Aeneid, 1910, ed J. B. Greenough, Perseus,
27 May 2005, . For "auratis" following,
see ibid. the Perseus Look-Up Tool.









active second person plural), meaning "You [all] hear." As I will discuss more in the

next chapter since "gilded" is an adjective also used to describe Statian Mercury,

"auratis" does not exhaust its associations with only gold and hearing, as "aura" ("breeze,

wind, air" etc.) is another relative. The silver goose "warned" ("canebat"), but this can

also be translated as "sang" and "was gray/hoary." The shield's metal language is

ambiguous and interconnected, but it also tells us, quite literally, that we hear. We can

see just from this one goose what we lose of what we can "hear" in Latin when we

translate it into English. In his Temple of Mars description, Chaucer never tells us that he

hears or we hear, he only says "I saugh," and we in turn see through his ekphrasis; but we

do hear through his use of sound words to describe three visual figures (aural ekphrases),

that, although they are not on a metal shield, they all make metal noise just like Vergil's

shield and later, Statius' Mercury.

The next three are all regarding the battle of Actium in 31 B.C.E.:

Regina in mediis patrio vocat agmina sistro...
omnigenumque deum monstra et latrator Anubis...
contra autem mango maerentem corpore Nilum
pandentemque sinus et tota veste vocantem
caeruleum in grenium latebrosaque flumina victos.
(VIII.696; 698; 711-13)
The queen
Amidst the battle called her flotilla on
With a sistrum's beat...
...while monster forms
Of gods of every race, and the dog-god
Anubis barking, held their weapons up...
... While the great length of mourning Nile awaited her
With open bays, calling the conquered home...
(VIII.941-43; 945-47; 962-64)

Contrary to the above translation, the verb "to call" ("vocat"), is in the present tense.

Here we are hearing the sound, or voice, of the sistrum, although it is really "Regina"









(Cleopatra), that "vocat." The "barking" of Anubis, which above looks like it would be a

participle, is actually an adjective meaning "barker" or just "dog." The "calling"

("vocantem") of the Nile is, however, a present participle. Although the events are in the

past, and always ever were in Vergil's time, when we read we experience them as

present. Just as the shield tells us "You hear," it is natural that it tells us then what we

hear, and in the present tense.

This Vergilian speech of metal accompanies our most important experience of

Statius' Cyllenian Mercury as Messenger in Book VII of the Thebaid. As he descends to

Mars' Temple to convey Jupiter's orders about urging on the Argives, his golden mantle

tells of the violence of the place as much as the ekphrasis topou (ekphrasis of place) that

he is described as seeing. This aural history of metal makes its way onto the wall of the

Temple of Mars in Chaucer's Knight's Tale as aural ekphrasis and leaves us wondering,

"How can a painting possibly make noise?"














CHAPTER 2
AURAL EKPHRASIS OF MERCURY: "A RUMBEL IN A SWOUGH"

The first instance of "noise" we see in Chaucer's Temple of Mars is the line, "Ther

ran a rumbel in a swough" (1979). Immediately following is one which adds a little

"sound quality" to the image: "As though a storm sholde bresten every bough" (1980);

immediately prior is the description of the area around the Temple in Thrace, with its

ancient, barren trees. The weather conditions as we see them in Boccaccio are as

follows:

For it is set in the Thracian fields, under wintry skies, storm-tossed by continuous
tempest, with hosts of everlasting clouds which are changed, now here, now there, by
various winds in various places into spring rainstorms, or are hurled down as globules of
water merged together by the cold, as the snow keeps hardening little by little to form ice.
(30)

Other than "In thilke colde, frosty region" (1973), we know nothing else of them from

Chaucer; he never mentions hail or the fact that it is a storm, he only says "as though" it

is one. In Statius, this hail batters Mercury and the tempestuous winds, pouring forth

from Aquilo's (the North Wind) yawning mouth, toss him about as he approaches

Thrace. This hail, incidentally, is thrown down on him from clouds described in the

Latin as "agmina Nimborum"; "agmina" is a military formation metaphor which, in this

context, suggests that even the clouds above Mars' temple are in formation; the hail then,

by extension, would be their weapons (Smolenaars 21). I believe that Statius means for

us to think of Book X of the Aeneid, when Mezentius' son Lausus temporarily buys his

father life with his death:









dum genitor nati parma protects abiret,
telaque coniciunt proturbantque eminus hostem
missilibus. Furit Aeneas tectusque tenet se.
Ac velut effuse siquando grandine nimbi
praecipitant, omnis campis diffugit arator
omnis et agricola et tuta latet arce viator,
aut amnis ripis aut alti fornice saxi
dum pluit in terries... (X.800-07)

The father limped away. The soldiers' javelins
Harassed Aeneas and kept him back, so he
Took shelter behind his shield in a black rage.
As when the stormclouds pour down hail in showers,
Every farmer and plowman leaves his field,
And every traveler takes cover, snug
In some good shelter, overhanging bank
Or rock-vault, while the rain falls....(1124-31)

At one point in the Thebaid Statius says that Mercury "shudders" (later I shall discuss

other ways of reading it at length), but on one very human level it is a moment when, the

hail cueing us to the above passage, we shiver with and for Mercury; for, though

immortal, he has no welcome shelter in that cruel place and must remain exposed to

assault by the inclement weather. On another very human level we would have, as

Romans, felt a pity for the suffering of a deity who had protected us in our travels,

through all kinds of weather and dangers, so many times.

Statius' Mercury, in his role as Messenger, is outfitted in his little traveling hat

(petasos; Latin galerus) and golden, traveling cloak (Latin aureapalla); he is often

depicted and described as carrying his herald's wand (caduceus) and wearing winged

sandals (talaria) as well, but they are not mentioned here. His palla is described as

aurea, the feminine adjective meaning "golden" and "gilded," among other things. As a

rich poetic descriptor which makes richer still Chaucer's use of Statius and Mercury in

general (as Rhetorician-Trickster par excellence), aurea appears related to the feminine









nouns aura, "wind" and "exhalation" (among many others); and auris, "ear"; as well as

the neuter noun aurum, "gold" and "golden cup" (among other things made from gold),

but which can also refer to the Golden Age. 1

Thepalla itself is "a male garment restricted to non-Romans" (Smolenaars 21), and

is the same garment that the young priest of Bacchus, Eunaeus, wears as we see him

before Capaneus notices and kills him. Eunaeus carries a hlyi '//u (a pole used by Bacchic

revelers, wound usually with vine leaves and having a pine cone on top), and is in general

effeminately dressed. In one reading, his gold (which could refer to all of it that adorns

him in various places, his mantle, or his "gold-embroidered tunica,") "rattles" as he dies;

in another it is a sort of death rattle, the "convulsive catching of breath of a dying person"

(Smolenaars 317-18). Either way, the verb crepare is used just as it is used to describe

the rattling immortal Mercury's mantle makes when the hail hits it. One more example

of this versatile verb is from Book VI (296 in Fitzgerald; 209 in the Latin) of the Aeneid,

which refers to the noise the Golden Bough makes as it moves in the wind, although

crepare here is probably most closely translated into English as "tinkling" (Smolenaars

317). This Bough can be read allegorically as Mercury himself, but it is at least his

caduceus, and becomes Aeneas' wand:

Sed non ante datur telluris operta subire,
auri comos quam quis decerpserit arbore fetus. (VI.140-41)

And yet

1 All Latin word definitions, unless another source is given, comes from John C. Traupman, Latin &
English Dictionary (New York: Bantam, 1995). I am reminded to beware, as Fleming says, "dictionary
crawling" (15); I do this for some Latin words to open up all possible meanings that may have occurred to
the Roman reader (and therefore also Chaucer as reader) because of the interconnected nature of his literary
tradition which makes many meanings of one word (and the various textual loci it is used in)
simultaneously available, I suppose itself much like a painting. Fleming also says, "We are dealing with a
Chaucerian word before we are dealing with an 'English' word" (15); and I agree, which is why I have not
combed Middle English dictionary entries for the Chaucerian words with which I am concerned.









No one may enter hidden depths
Below the earth unless he picks this bough,
The tree's fruit, with its foliage of gold. (VI.204-07)

While these three examples of crepare can be translated as "rattle," they are

certainly not all the same noise. The various meanings of the verb crepare and the

related noun crepitus ("rattle, creak, rumbel") tie them even more closely to Chaucer as

they prominently appear many times in his writings, while one in particular ("fart"), even

takes center stage.2

Mercury is essentially carried by the North Wind or is struggling to glide on it, and

in this way he could be said to be "in" the wind; he could even be visually depicted like

this in a painting, which is what I think Chaucer intended when he wrote the aural

ekphrasis "Ther ran a rumbel in a swough" (1979): Mercury running/rushing along,

rattling as the hail hits him, in the howling gusts of Aquilo. The gloss for "swough" in

The Riverside Chaucer defines it as "sound of wind"; that for "rumbel" is "rumbling

noise," and although this usually connotes a long, low-pitched sound, it is not necessary

that hail hitting Mercury's mantle has to be short and high-pitched. Due to the severity of

the storm he is navigating, combined with the sound of wind, it is unlikely that one could

even differentiate each individual hail-impact in order to call it "short" or "high-pitched."

I believe that, just as crepare is a versatile sound-word in Chaucer's sources, so is his

own "rumbel" equally as versatile and even synonymous.

There are numerous examples of "rumbel" in its various forms in Chaucer, other

than that occurring in the Knight's Tale. The others, in order from the Knight onwards,


2 For further discussion of Chaucer's use of the fart, see Valerie J. Allen, "Broken Air," Exemplaria 16.2
(2 1'!4): 305-22; and Peter W. Travis, "Thirteen Ways of Listening to a Fart: Noise in Chaucer's
Summoner's Tale," Exemplaria 16.2 (2_' 4): 323-48.









are as follows: "The rumblynge of a fart" (2233), from The Summoner's Tale; "The

people cried and rombled up and doun" (2535), from The Monk's Tale; "And in the water

rombled to and fro" (1322), from The Canon's Yeoman's Tale; "The grete soun...that

rumbleth up and doun.... Herestow not the grete swogh?" (1025-26; 1031), from The

House of Fame; and "Among al this to rumbelen gan the hevene" (1218), from "The

Legend of Dido" in The Legend of Good Women.

Interestingly enough, "swough" only occurs in Chaucer three other times after The

Knight's Tale: "But what she sayede more in that swow/ I may not telle yow as now"

(215-16), from The Book of the Duchess; "withinne the temple, of sykes hoote as fyr/ I

herde a swogh that gan about renne,/ Which sikes were engendered with desyr" (246-

48), from The Parliament ofFowls; "He siketh with ful many a sory swogh" (3619), from

The Miller 's Tale.

So it seems from the examples above that "swough," at least as Chaucer uses it, is

the kind of wind that carries sound, whether that of a sigh or words or emotions as sighs,

and therefore also meaning: the "swough" is itself a messenger, delivering a collective

noise of individual "pieces" of sound. In The House ofFame Chaucer explains through

his eagle to a dreamer that air is apparently a substance that can "break," almost as if it

were something brittle: "Soun ys noght but eyr broken" (765). These "pieces," also

according to the eagle, have a "kyndely stede" ("natural place") and a "kyndely

enclynyng" ("natural inclination") to that place: "Thus every thing, by thys reason / Hath

his propre mansyon/ To which hit seketh to repaire/ Ther-as hit shulde not apaire" (753-

56). Wind, being air, is "kyndely" to sound, and it naturally carries it as they go to the

same place; they repairr" there so that they do not "apaire" ("deteriorate"), which tells









us that whatever we hear in a "swough" is as it was originally, i.e. the "swough" negates

the ephemerality of sound. However, since the "swough" in the Knight's Tale is the

North wind from another text, it too makes a sound (and we probably think of it as

howling), in addition to the "rumbel" or the individual, brokene" pieces of air that are

also the sounds of hail battering Mercury's golden mantle. The other construction in

Chaucer very similar to this is also in The House of Fame (the eagle speaking again):

Se here the Haus of Fame, lo!
Maistow not heren that I do?
... The grete soun...
that rumbleth up and doun
In Fames Hous, full of tydynges,
Both of feir speche and chidynges,
And of fals and soth compound.
Herke wel; hyt is not round.
Herestow not the grete swogh? (1023-31)

Here we see that the "swough" and the pieces of sound it carries, which run the gamut of

possibilities, at their "kyndely stede": The House of Fame.

In the Aeneid Book IV, Mercury carries from Jupiter to Aeneas the command to

leave Carthage and continue on his journey. Jupiter tells Mercury to "Take to your wings

and glide/....Carry my speech to him on the running winds" (304; 308). What follows is

a description that Vergil probably modeled on Hermes' visitation of Calypso, when he

tells her to tell Odysseus to leave, in Book V of the Odyssey; Statius probably had at least

this in mind when writing his description of Mercury's descent into Thrace:

Dixerat. Ille patris magni parere parabat
imperio; et primum pedibus talaria nectit
aurea, quae sublimem alis sive aequora supra
seu terram rapido partier cum flamine portent
tum virgam capitihac animals ille evocat orco
pallentis, alias sub Tartara tristia mittit,
dat somnos adimitque, et lumina morte resignat.
Illa fretus agit ventos, et turbida tranat









nubile; iamque volans apicem et later ardua cecnit
Atlantis duri, caelum qui vertice fulcit...
... et vento pulsatur et imbri;
nix umeros infusa tegit; turn flumina mento
praecipitant semis, et glacie riget horrida barba.
Hic primum paribus hitens Cyllenius alis
constitit; hinc toto praeceps se corpore ad undas
misit.... (IV.238-47; 249-54)

He [Jupiter] finished and fell silent. Mercury
Made ready to obey the great command
Of his great father, and first he tied on
The Golden sandals, winged, that high in air
Transport him over seas or over land
Abreast of gale winds; then he took the wand
With which he summons pale souls out of Orcus
And ushers others to the undergloom,
Lulls men to slumber or awakens them,
And opens dead men's eyes. This wand in hand,
He can drive winds before him, swimming down
Along the stormcloud. Now aloft, he saw
The craggy flanks and crown of patient Atlas...
Beaten by wind and rain.
Snow lay upon his shoulders, rills cascaded
Down his ancient chin and beard a-bristle,
Caked with ice. Here Mercury the Cyllene
Hovered first on even wings, then down
He plummeted....

Not many lines before this is the description of "nimble Rumor," who, although not

directly mentioned with any sort of wind,

mobilitate viget, viesque adquirit eundo,
parva metu primo, mox sese attollit in auras
ingrediturque solo, et capuit inter nubila condit. (IV. 175-77)

Thrives on motion, stronger for the running,
Lowly at first through fear, then rearing high,
She treads the land and hides her head in cloud.

Considering then the velocity of Rumor, perhaps Chaucer's "swough" is his more

versatile answer to the ancient periphrasis "with winged words." But then the winds have

also been portrayed as seeming like children, running gleefully away with noises like toys









that the gods have tossed away; here they run away with the "leftovers" to the South,

presumably where the winds take dead words:

Audiit et voti Phoebus succedere partem
mentededit, partem volucris dispersit in auras.
sterneret ut subita turbatam morte Camillam,
adnuit oranti, reduce ut patria alta videret,
non dedit, inque Notos vocem vertere procellae. (XI.794-98)

Phoebus heard, and felt disposed to grant
His prayer in part; the rest he gave the winds
To blow away. Granted, Arruns should fell
Camilla in the shock of death; denied
That Arruns' land should see the man return:
That plea the gale winds wafted to the South. (XI. 1083-88)

Although the Statian Mercury is similar to the Vergilian version, the former seems

hollow, little more than the embodiment of Jupiter's command, which makes him like

those anthropomorphic utterances we see in The House of Fame. Maybe this is how

Chaucer also understood Boccaccio's reasoning (or maybe this was Boccaccio's

reasoning) for using an embodied Prayer. But the fact that Chaucer chose to use Statius'

Mercury (or I should say Vergil's through Statius), rather than Vergil's alone leads me to

believe that Chaucer's opinion of war was much the same as Statius, and his aural umbra

Messenger illustrates this.

The Romans generally seem to have differed from the Greeks in their literary

appreciation of verbal cunning and deceit, and their related language of thievery seems to

reflect this.3 The Greek regard for Odysseus' gift allowed them to overlook or justify his

at times shady dealings; the Romans were often quite nasty towards his trickery, and



3 The Greek verb KidXzo is of course "to steal" (as in English kleptomaniac), but it can also mean "to
cheat, deceive, beguile"; hence Hermes' duplicity as god of thieves and rhetoric. Interestingly enough,
however, is the Latin verb furor, -ari, which means "to steal, plagiarize, obtain by fraud", which is of
course related tofuro, -ere, "to be out of one's mind, rage."









didn't seem too impressed by those practicing it. Take for example the shade of Trojan

Deiphobus' bitter invective uttered to Aeneas, calling Ulysses "That ringleader of

atrocity" (VI.709); or Sinon's general abuse of "that criminal" Ulysses that wins Trojan

trust and opens their gates to the Horse (II. 105ff). Aeneas, in his telling of the latter,

regrets that he ever trusted Sinon's Greek "crocodile tears." As Fitzgerald points out:

"The attitude of the narrator [Aeneas] is that of an honest Roman before his time: grim

wonderment at Greek trickery, with a sense that the Greeks are too clever by half, too

brazenly good at histrionics and dissimulation" (407). Since Rome, after all, descended

from Troy, I can't really blame them for disparaging a Greek that had so many fingers in

the Trojan pie of destruction.

There is a tradition in which Sisyphus-the son of Aeolus, keeper or king of the

winds-is Odysseus' father, not Laertes. This is yet another link between Mercury, one

skilled in rhetoric, and the wind. It is interesting then that Statius' Mercury, differing

from Vergil's, cannot even manage the winds he glides on; Chaucer is ambiguous. This

odd lack of control is reminiscent of the chaos of Phaethon's inability to rein Helios'

team across the ordered sky. It is also interesting that in the Temple of Mars section of

both Statius and Chaucer Mercury never speaks but only rattles, while Vergil's does

speak and even gets to take Aeneas to task (IV.360ff.). There is something very strange

about this eloquent silence that draws, invites even, our attention to the rhetoric

representing Martian chaos.

Statius' Mercury shudders at the "barren woods" and "Mars' shrine" (40), and

Boccaccio's Prayer cannot speak at the sight of the "house of Mars" (29). There must be

something so terrible in those dead woods and in or on that shrine that makes even









Psychopompos, Mercury as conveyer of souls and frequenter of the Underworld, shudder.

But we cannot forget that we are watching him looking at the Temple of Mars from

above, and maybe with the subsequent description of what he sees we are meant to think

of Aeneas' "inhuman shuddering" (II.730) upon seeing and re-seeing (in telling Dido and

guests) Pyrrhus (or Neoptolemus), and his atrocities the night the Greeks sacked Troy;

perhaps we are even asked to re-read them through Statius:

Ipse inter primos correpta durabipenni
limina perrumpit, postisque a cardine vellit
aeratus; iamque excise trabe firma cavavit
cobora, et ingentem lato dedit ore fenestram.
Adparet domus intus, et atria longa patescunt;
adparent Priami et veterum penetralia regum,
armatosque vident stantis in limine primo.
At domus interior gemitu miseroque tumultu
miscetur, penitusque cavae plangoribus aedes
femineis ululant; ferit aurea sidera clamor.
bararico postes auro spoliisque superbi,
procubuere; tenent Danai, que defeat ignis. (II.479-88; 504-05)

Pyrrhus shouldering forward with an axe
Broke down the stony threshold, forced apart
Hinges and brazen door-jambs, and chopped through
One panel of the door, splitting the oak,
To make a window, a great breech. And there
Before their eyes the inner halls lay open,
The courts of Priam and the ancient kings,
With men-at-arms ranked in the vestibule.
From the interior came the sounds of weeping,
Pitiful commotion, wails of women
High-pitched, rising in the formal chambers
To ring against the silent golden stars...
Those doorways high and proud,
Adorned with the takings of barbaric gold,
Were all brought low: fire had them, or the Greeks.

Next, we see Aeneas watching Polites running frantically away from Pyrrhus to his

parents, Hecuba and Priam, as they huddle with their Penates under the shade of an

ancient laurel tree in a court of the palace. Pyrrhus kills him there with his spear; Priam









addresses Pyrrhus in a moving speech, bravely admonishing him for making him see his

son killed, which "defiled/ A father's eyes with death" (II.700-01), and for not having the

"compunction" (II.705) of his father, Achilles.

...Hoc dicens altaria ad ipsa trementem
traxit et in multo lapsantem sanguine hati,
implicuitque comam laeva, dextraque coruscum
extulit, ac later capulo tenus abdiditensem.
Iacet ingens litore truncus,
avolsumque umeris caput, et sine nominee corpus. (II.550-53; 557-58)


With this,
To the altar step itself he dragged him trembling,
Slipping in the pooled blood of his son,
And took him by the hair with his left hand.
The sword flashed in his right; up to the hilt
He thrust it in his body....
On the distant shore
The vast trunk headless lies without a name. (II.716-29)

If this or another thousand atrocities facilitated by Mars is what Mercury sees, thinks or is

reminded of, it is easy to understand why Psychopompos shudders, and why Aeneas, the

great hero, "stood unmanned" (11.731).

I have already discussed the palla, the garment of non-Romans common to both

Mercury and Eunaeus; but as we find out in the comments on Eunaeus, it is also "more

typical of women" (Smolenaars 304). In this same gloss we learn that Statius'

description of Eunaeus "in content... meticulously imitates the sequence of Chloreus'

characteristics" in the Aeneid; Chloreus is the "bizarre character... probably to be

understood as a eunuch-priest of Cybele" (XI.1045n.). He is also the person who absorbs

Camilla's attention: she tracks him as Arruns, "ahead of her in cunning" (XI.1035),

tracks her and kills her, her reward for unbridled "girl's love of finery" (XI. 1066). In

Statius' Thebaid, it is Capaneus (who never seems to speak unless he is taunting or









threatening) whom Eunaeus attracts, not with his fine clothes, but with his boasting.

Statius' use, then, ofpalla instead of another garment-word like vestis, connects his

Mercury to not only a non-Roman identity and pubescent youth, but also to femininity

and eunuchism in so many ways that he could not have been ignorant of it-neither, I

think, could Chaucer. These elements certainly figure rhetorically powerful Mercury as

Trickster Unmanned in the face of Mars and his horrific Temple, and I believe are meant

to draw our attention to Mercury just as Camilla and Capaneus each find something in

Chloreus and Eunaeus to captivate them. But that is not to say we should ignore what is

glaring and running out at us from within Chaucer's painting, which I will discuss in the

next chapter.

Statius' Mercury yet again deviates from Vergil's in that he is never named (i.e.

called Mercury), and never speaks. He is only known by two epithets, Cyllenian and

Maenalian, the former referring to the mountain in Arcadia on which he was born, the

latter referring to the mountain range of which Cyllene is a part. If this was not enough

to render him barbaros to Statius' text, he also wears a non-Roman palla and his

traveling hat, although Statius uses the Latin form galerus instead of the Greekpetasos, is

firmly established as "Arcadian" (VII.39). In the introduction to Fitzgerald's Aeneid

translation, Philip Hardie discusses the rustica that so fascinated the Romans:

In book eight pride in Rome's success story is mingled with a wistful nostalgia for
the irrecoverably lost innocence of an Arcadian origin [through Arcadian king
Evander's settlement]....in its essence the pastoral world is a self-sufficient and
alternative universe, not just a reserve of innocence on the margins of the world of
history; any conflict or even contact with the epic world of expansively imperialist
kings and cities is fatal to its integrity. (xix)

Arcadian Mercury's silence could echo Statius' pensive nostalgia for this innocence lost

long ago by a civilization that so highly estimated the god of war and the horrors he









brings. Or perhaps Statius' Mercury un-Mercury is simply Jupiter's anthropomorphized

command: commands from Statius' especially dominant and cruel Jove either require no

persuasion or simply threaten instead, and certainly allow no debate (since his power is

absolute), there is no real reason for Mercury to speak directly in the text (Dominik 86).

For Statius, making Mercury mute should, as William J. Dominik points out, straight

away raise a reader's suspicions: "Since the education and training of Statius prepared

him for a career as a poet or an orator, the treatment of speech passages in the Thebaid

deserves special attention from the critic. The number, weighting and form of the

speeches immediately draws attention to their importance" (273). Whichever way we

prefer to read Mercury, we must admit that Statius has whittled away at the Olympian he

once was; the umbra cast by his Arcadian hat is his only attribute that survives into

Boccaccio, who steals it and gives it to the dead trees (31).

Mercury is the god of boundaries; he is creator, transgressor, and escort across

established liminal spaces. As Psychopompos he escorts souls of the dead to the

Underworld; as Hypnopompos he is the sender of dreams. Since Hypnos (Sleep) is the

brother of Thanatos (Death), it is no wonder that in the Aeneidwe see a tree of dreams in

the cave leading to the underworld, not long after the tree of the Golden Bough,

In medio ramos annosaque brachia pandit
ulmus opaca, ingens, quam sedem Somnia volgo
Pana tenere ferunt, foliisque sub omnibus haerent. (VI.282-84)

... a shadowy giant elm
Spreads ancient boughs, her ancient arms where dreams,
False dreams, the old tale goes, beneath each leaf
Cling and are numberless. (VI.386-89)

One can imagine Mercury picking these leaves with their false or deceptive dreams, and

sending them on to dreamers. We only see Mercury twice in the Knight's Tale, and the









second occasion is the aural ekphrasis that I am arguing for; the first is when he appears

to Arcite in Thebes:

Upon a nyght in sleep as he hym leyde 1384
Hym thought how that the wynged god Mercurie
Biforn hym stood and bad hym to be murie.
His slepy yerde in hond he bar uprighte;
An hat he werede upon his heris bright.
Arrayed was this god, as he took keep,
As he was whan that Argus took his sleep; 1390
And seyde hym thus: "To Atthenes shaltou wende,
Ther is thee shapen of thy wo an ende."

According to Fleming, Chaucer would group this in with the few other ambages or

amphibologies ("Chaucer's two neologisms for the tricky ambiguities of oracles" (50f))

found in his writings, and I agree; Mercury picked this one from that "shadowy giant

elm" especially for Arcite, and then appears before him as Argeiphontes, Slayer of Argus

Panoptes (the "All-seeing" guard of lo) (Lenardon 1-16). Chaucer's stress on this very

Greek aspect of Mercury prepares us to connect him with Statius' as we "hear" him

appear on the Martian wall as a "rumbel in a swough"; likewise his ambage links with

that of Mars, whose "statue...bigan his hauberk rynge,/ And with that soun he herde a

murmurynge/ Ful lowe and dym, and seyde thus, 'Victorie! '" (2431-33). We know how

Arcite's death clears up these ambiguities of Mercury and Mars; but before these is

Palamon's own, very Statian prophesy to his warlike brother: "Arcita, cosyn myn,/ Of al

oure strif, God woot, the fruyt is thyn" (1281-82).

The most important word thus far for Mercury, and indeed perhaps for the entire

investigation, is crepare as it links all three aural ekphrases together: Mercury's cloak

rumbles, Mars rattles the gate, and the Forest of Trophies rattles and creaks. And

perhaps, as this noise reminds us through its Aeneid connection with the "fruit" of the






31


Golden Bough, sacred to Proserpina, it is also closely bonded with the "fruit" of war:

Death (Smolenaars 25).














CHAPTER 3
AURAL EKPHRASIS OF MARS: "A RAGE AND SWICH A VEZE"

The first time we see Mercury in the Aeneid he is sent by Jupiter to calm the

Carthaginians by giving them open minds and a peaceful feeling; we are not told exactly

how he does this, but he thereby banishes any aggressive attitudes that might cause

violence towards Aeneas and his men. Immediately before Jupiter commands this, he

predicts a pax Romana under the rule of Romulus and Remus when violent Furor,

restrained, will be locked away:

... dirae ferro et compagibus artis
claudentur Belli portae; Furor impius intus,
saeva sedens super arma, et centum vinctus aenis
post tergum nodis, fremet horridus ore cruento (1.293-96)

And grim with iron frames, the Gates of War
Will then be shut: inside, unholy Furor,
Squatting on cruel weapons, hands enchained
Behind him by a hundred links of bronze,
Will grind his teeth and howl with bloodied mouth. (1.394-98)

There was a "famous painting by Apelles of War enchained....placed in the Forum of

Augustus," believed to have influenced this description. But there is also here a tradition

of the Gates of War of the Temple of Janus being ritually opened while Rome was at war,

and closed during times of peace (Fitzgerald 447). It is fitting that the Augustan Forum

would contain its painted antecedent since Augustus' rule after the Battle of Actium put

an end to civil strife; at his return from that battle he made a great display of closing the

Gates of War. Here is another description from the Aeneid:

Mos erat in Hesperio in Latio, quemprotinus urbes
Albanae coluere sacrum nunc maxima rerum









Roma colit, cum prima movent in proelia Martem...
Sunt geminate belli portae sic nominee dicunt
religion sacrae et saevi formidine Martis;
centum aerie claudunt vectes aeternaque ferri
robora, nec custos absistit limine lanus:
has, ubi certa sedet patribus sentential pugnae,
ipse Quirinali trabea cinctuque Gabino
insignis reserat stridentia limina consul,
ipse vocat pugnas... (VII.601-03; 607-14)

There was a custom then in Latium,
Held sacred later in Alban towns, as now
In the world-power of Rome when citizens
First urge the wargod on...
There are two gates, twin gates
Of war, as they are called, by long observance
Looked on in awe, for fear of savage Mars.
One hundred brazen bolts keep these gates closed
And the unending strength of steel; then too
Their guardian, Janus, never leaves the portal.
When the Fathers' judgment holds for war,
The Consul...
... goes to unlock the grating doors
And lifts a call for battle. (VII.827-29; 834-40; 842-43)

So twin metal gates with a hundred metal bolts, with forward and backward looking

Janus as guardian, contain the destructive power of the god; to open them requires a ritual

of divinely sanctified control, and no one dares touch them and risk opening them

accidentally or contaminating themselves.

The difference between the two above passages is the poetic versatility of Furor,

which is to say, the confusion betweenfuror ("madness, rage, fury, prophetic frenzy,

passionate love" etc.); Furor (the prosopopoeia of one or more of those general

abstractions, or as antonomasia for Mars in that capacity); and Mars himself

anthropomorphizedd god of War).1 In general, it could be helpful to think of furor as like


1 According to Quintilian, prosopopoeia is personification whereby we may "bring down the gods from
heaven and raise the dead, while cities also and peoples find a voice...we often personify the abstract, as
Vergil does with Fame" (IX.ii.3 If); Furor, as general personified Madness, is an example of this. An










the Greek Eveog (c 'hin ,,\) that we see describing the Pythia or Maenads, or similar to

the Greek Ouit6 (l/nuu,,,), which for Homer "tells him [a man] that he must now eat or

drink or slay an enemy, it advises him on his course of action, it puts words into his

mouth... [it is] the independent inner voice" (Dodds 16).2 An example of Statius using

furor in a similar fashion is vocalized by Venus as she complains to Mars of Diana's

involvement in the battle:

...none hanc, Gradive, protervam
virginitate vides mediam se ferre virorum
coetibus, utque acies audax et Martia signa
temperet? en etiam donat praebetque necandos
tot nostra de gente viros. huic tradita virtus,
huic furor? agrestes superset tibi figere dammas. (IX.825-30)

Do you not see her, Gradivus, how impu-
dent in her virginity she carries herself in the midst of war-
riors' gatherings? And how bodly she governs armies and
Martian standards? See, she even makes a present of so
many men of our race, supplies them for slaughter. Has
valour and rage been made over to her? For you it remains
to shoot wild deer.

Venus acts like a thumos, whipping up with her nagging voice "the resentment hidden in

his silent heart" (pressum tacito sub corde dolorem/ tempestiva move [IX.824-25]),

while what she is really describing is Parthenopaeus as c/ul ',,\ with Diana as she

prepares him for a glorious death:



epithet, or appositum, is "an ornament...poets employ...with special frequency and freedom... [that]cannot
stand by itself' (VIII.vi.40f); an example of this is the adjective saevus in saevus Mars, meaning "savage
Mars." An epithet understood on its own is antonomasia, which "substitutes something else for a proper
name" (VIII.vi.29f); an example of this is "'Pelides"' for "the son of Peleus = Achilles" (VIII.VI.28 &n.). I
will be basing all subsequent distinctions off of these three. For further discussion of these tropes, see
Quintilian, Institutio Oratoria, Trans. H. E. Butler, Vol. 3 (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1976): 316-19; 390f.

2 For further information on thumos see E. R. Dodds, The Greeks and the Irrational, (Berkeley: University
of California Press, 1951).









Tune vero exserto circumvolat igneus arcu
nec se mente regit, patriae matrique suique
immemor, et nimium caelestibus utitur armis (IX.736-38)

Then with bow out-thrust he dashes here and there like
fire, out of his mind's control, forgetful of country, mother,
self, using the celestial weapons overmuch.

In the previous passage the wordfuror, like virtus, is not capitalized because Venus

knows she already goes too far in her misrepresentation: Diana cannot possibly

command Martian Furor and Virtus to save or favor Parthenopaeus, or for any other

reason. If she were to try to save him, she would be going against his Fate, which no god

(not even Jupiter) has the power to do. Further, she could not command Mars' retinue

because to do so would be to cross the boundary from her power into his which, as we

will see below, is taboo. The most she can do is direct his arrows herself and enhance his

ability, turning him into a hunter on the battlefield. Incidentally, this comparison of

Parthenopaeus with fire because of Diana's direct involvement is very similar to the

results of Juno opening the Gates of War for Turnus' advantage, which I believe is Mars'

direct involvement. Smolenaars admits in his commentary that distinguishing between

the capitalized and un-capitalized versions of this Latin "madness" "seems somewhat

arbitrary" (25); perhaps Venus' manipulation of Mars through her misrepresentation of

Diana's "use" of furor and virtus is Statius' way of drawing our attention to how he is not

using Furor versus furor arbitrarily, and perhaps even it is a humble comment on how his

use is different from that of Vergil.

The first Vergilian passage above depicts impius Furor or "the madness of civil

war" (Smolenaars 32); Fitzgerald simply calls this "the personification of frenzy,

madness" (447). On its own Furor would appear to be, as I mentioned above, a general









prosopopoeia; in this case it has with it an adjective acting as en epithet, which cannot

stand on its own and still be understood as referring to Furor, as in Impius. Together and

without context they mean basically "disloyal Madness," which could refer to general,

prosopopoeic Madness that drives many types of disloyalty; but above they are

contextualized behind the Gates of War, and together they become antonomasia for the

god himself as "the madness of civil war." This is not to say that there is nothing

epithetical about this construction since impius Furor cannot stand alone in all contexts

and refer to Mars, but here it does stand alone as well as "substitutes something else for a

proper name." Vergil could be using impius Furor in this way (rather than simply

prosopopoeic Frenzy or even Madness specific to civil war) because he wanted to

emphasize Romulus' fated and unifying (and therefore calming) power as ruler (so

powerful, in fact, that he could close the Gates and trap Mars in this capacity inside, an

allusion probably not lost on Augustus). Romulus was deified as Quirinus, and as such

he has been described by Servius as "Mars when he presides in peacetime" (Lenardon

657). This would suggest that Mars is locked behind the Gates because an innocuous

version of himself is commingled with the founder of Rome, keeping his prominent

position in the Pantheon during peace, or simply "keeping his ratings up."

The second passage does not concern civil war and does not use "Furor"; it

shows, rather, Latinus' refusal to open the Gates of savage Mars (saevi Martis) at Turnus'

bidding, in order to wage war on Aeneas. It uses a simple epithetical construction of an

adjective (saevus), attached to the nominal Mars. It is enough to subtly convey what is

lurking behind the Gates of War, even though it does not explicitly describe it in a

manner similar to the first. The Gates are opened by Juno herself because Latinus refuses









to do "the repellent work" (VII.850), and we see what exactly is unleashed: civil war

does not occur, but the desire to wage war and prepare for it spreads like fire through the

country; all peaceful toil ceases and implements of daily life become weapons. But all of

this is orderly in its own way, as the aggression and new weaponry facilitated by Juno's

opening of the Gates is turned not towards Turnus, but put under his command and used

against Aeneas. It certainly seems that the Gates withhold Mars' power to madden men

into violent action (since saevus also means "mad" in addition to "savage, fierce, cruel"),

regardless of which way it tends. Turnus wants to unleash what is saevus about Mars

against Aeneas because this will gain him victory; likewise, Romulus wants to trap what

is impius about Mars because it will undermine his rule. More to the point, both passages

describe the same Gates as withholding the same destructive Mars; the only difference

lies in what attributes of that power the poet chooses to highlight, and how he employs

prosopopoeia, antonomasia, or appositum to accomplish this.

This seems quite confusing, but the reason for creativity is clear, as Quintilian

complains about the use of strings of epithets, which are like "an army with as many

camp-followers as soldiers, an army, that is to say, which has doubled its numbers

without doubling its strength" (VIII.VI.42); Vergil himself (for Quintilian a major source

of rhetoric and its uses), was not above Quintilian's reprobation for using too many

epithets. In the case of Mars behind the Gates, however, he uses them minimally and

employs antonomasia to keep as intact as possible that "strength" towards which the

reader could be desensitized by lavish series of descriptives. This would severely detract

from the triumphs of Aeneas and Augustus, between whom Fitzgerald thinks Vergil

intended an analogy: "the hardest and hugest part for both was waging war to end war"









(414); that is, power over the Gates of War, and locking Mars in some capacity behind

them.

Statius, on the other hand, goes further than Vergil's use of antonomasia to the

point of prosopopoeia whereby Furor almost becomes a character in the Thebaid. He

fragments the horrible forces of Mars into aprosopopoeic retinue that we see hanging

about in the Temple of Mars:

innumeris strepit aula Minis, tristissima Virtus
stat medio, laetusque Furor vultuque cruento
Mors armata sedet... (VII.51-53)

... The court resounds with countless
Threats, Valour most somber stands in the centre, and joy-
ful Rage and armed Death with bloodstained countenance
there sit.

He then uses these anthropomorphic forces to represent Mars as more concretely

ubiquitous and culpable when he brings them out to "play"; they are not Mars himself as

with Vergil's impius Furor, but are prosopopoeic abstractions representative of him.3 In

other words, they are prosopopoeic in that they are personified abstractions, but they are

also epithetical or apposita because they cannot stand on their own as the same

prosopopoeic abstractions or accomplish Statius' end in the same way without a patron

deity; they are therefore examples of epithetical prosopopoeia. For example, in the

Thebaid we see Furor as a member of the retinue of Mars, Bacchus, and Venus with the

Furies in tow. If Furor stands alone, he is general prosopopoeic madness, not the

Madness we see on the battlefield, the Madness we see in the followers of Bacchus, or



3 For example, see Statius' description of the sack of Thebes: "Dire is the spectacle within. Mavors
himself would/ scarce take pleasure in the sight. The city is in a frenzy,/ horrorstruck; Mourning, Madness,
Panic, and Flight en-/compassed by blind darkness rend it in various discord./ You might think War had
come inside" (X.556-60 italics mine).









the Madness Hypsipyle tells of that ruins the Lemnian marriage-beds.4 In this way the

different types of Furor (as he appears in each retinue) has to do with what way the deity

utilizes him, and therefore in what way his talents are controlled. The Furores are not

interchangeable, and this is why I believe they are more than justprosopopoeic Madness

and are epithetically prosopopoeic: for example, what works for Bacchus is taboo for

Mars and vice versa, and we see this on the battlefield when Tydeus kills Menalippus and

eats part of his head; this is a shameful act in Mars' context, but expected in Bacchus'

with sparagmos (rending, i.e. killing) and omophagia (eating of the raw flesh). In this

way the Furores can also be interpreted as prosopopoeic abstractions of the liminal

spaces between the powers of deities.

The differences between Furores are also illustrated by their actions.

Chambermaid-like Furor Iraque is part of Mars' retinue, arranging his plume (III.424-

25), and we can imagine them dressed as warriors primping their master; we see them,

Ira Furorque this time, in Bacchus' retinue as not iners ("lazy" or, really, not ineffective

because of drunkenness) (IV.661). This is not to say that Quintilians' rhetorical

definitions and examples are the ones that either Statius or Chaucer had in mind as

readers and writers, but they are very helpful starting places for my purposes. Chaucer's

usage of Furor is so strange and chimaeric (and this should be no surprise to anyone

familiar with his writing), that one is not sure if he is tending more towards Vergil or

Statius, or layering in the same moment imitations of them both.5



4 For Martian Furor see the above example (n.2), or others provided in the paper; for Bacchic Furor see
Thebaid IV.660f.; for Venusian Furor see Thebaid V.74.

From this point forward I will specify in what way I am using Furor if I am not using it as the
Statian character, since for my discussion of Chaucer's usage it will need to be explicitly clear what Furor
or furor I am talking about at any given time. The generalfuror meaning "force" is easy to detect.









Statius refers to or imitates the above, penultimate Vergilian passage no less than

five times in his Book VII Temple of Mars (an ekphrasis topou, by the by, of about

twenty-three lines), describing what Mercury sees (Smolenaars 26f). The first occurrence

is as follows:

... ubi mille Furoribus illi
cingitur averso domus immansueta sub Haemo.

There under distant Haemus
is the god's ungentle house, girt with a thousand Rages. (VII.41-42)

Shackleton Bailey has translated "mille Furoribus" as above, Ross as "thousand Furies."

It looks in this first example like the only connection is the capitalized name "Furor," and

certainly in Vergil's example there is only one, not a thousand. Shackleton Bailey calls

these "thousand Rages" a "careless anticipation of 47ff' (meaning of the Temple's

inhabitants) in his note, and although his interpretation is certainly possible, I find it

dissatisfying. To begin with, they "gird" the Temple, while the inhabitants are clearly

distributed throughout. They also occur early in the ekphrasis, and it would make

rhetorical, Roman sense that if one begins by describing the surrounding area or region of

a structure, that one would then continue in that description of the structure, moving

outward inward, describing inhabitants last since they are mobile and not part of the

structure proper. The verb here is cingere, which means to "encircle, enclose a space"; it

is also associated with putting on battle gear (cingi inproelia) or a sword (ferrum cingi).

Then there is the strange occurrence of "the rare adjective 'immansuetus'

('untamed')... coined by Ovid"; this is the same adjective used by Aeneas to describe

Polyphemus in the Metamorphoses (XIV.249), and it can also mean "savage" or "wild"









(Smolenaars 25). I believe that the "thousand Rages" are a thousand sections of iron

fence surrounding the Temple, and that just as a soldier girds himself with battle gear, so

has this wild Temple been surrounded with a fence as awful as it is.

These sections of fence, then, can be seen as a "thousand Furors," meant by

Statius to be closely associated with the imagery of Vergil's impius Furor, chained up,

which it is supposed hearkens back to that painting of Apelles. Vulcan certainly crafted

the Temple out of iron, so it is no stretch to imagine he could also fashion an intricate

iron fence to enclose it. Perhaps this is why Statius says, "Everywhere himself [Mars] is

to be seen, but nowhere with easy look;/ thus had Mulciber portrayed him with his divine

art" (ubique ipsum, sed non usquam ore remisso/ cernere erat: talem divina Mulciber

arte/ediderat [60-2]). Since the description is so ambiguous, it is not clear what we are

to imagine the individual fence-sections looking like. For example, they could all be the

same, impius Furor from Vergil; to make the scene more terrible, we could also imagine

a "thousand Furies" (per Ross' translation based onfuror's definition "fury") as

symbolizing Allecto's "thousand names" and "thousand ways of wounding" in the

Aeneid (VII.461-62); then there is Statius' own Furor, and we could imagine the various

ways in which we see him in the Thebaid; or, we could substitute any combination of

these and more.

In this way Statius allows us to "choose your own Furores" and create our own

Temples of Mars, answering for ourselves Nisus' question to Euryalus in the Aeneid

about the furor of Mars as they sit above the gate:

Dine hunc ardorem mentibus addunt,
Euryale, an sua cuique dues fit dira cupido? (IX. 184-85)

This urge to action, do the gods instill it,









Or is each man's desire a god to him,
Euryalus? (IX.252-54)

Perhaps their position helps explain the spots occupied by Chaucer's temples of Mars and

Venus over the west and east gates, respectively, of his amphitheatre. Either way, Nisus'

question is also important to Chaucer as he to some extent mimics Statius by letting us

choose who is rattling the gate.

These Statian, saturae fences, then, are those that I believe Chaucer is thinking of

when he describes the entrance to his Temple of Mars:

... of which the entree
Was long and street, and gastly for to see. (I. 1983-84)

Not, on the other hand, the entrance of Boccaccio: "The narrow entrance was all iron and

the gates were re-enforced everywhere with eternal diamond" (McCoy 32), which the

Traversa translation testifies to almost verbatim. Chaucer does not say that it is "narrow"

because above he is describing something different from what he below takes from those

Boccaccio lines:

The northren lyght in at the dores shoon...
The dore was al of adamant eterne,
Yclenched overthwart and endelong
With iren tough... (I. 1987; 1990-92)

He puts the plural "dores" right after the singular "gate," then continues on with the

description of the adamantine but singular "dore" to distinguish between the two: there is

a gate before the actual door or doors to the Temple that lets in the northern light. So the

gate that is made "to rese" (as below) is something other than what is taken from

Boccaccio, and I believe it is from Statius:

And therout came a rage and swich a veze
That it made al the gate for to rese. (I. 1985-86)









As fences that contain what they encircle need gates to allow movement from one side to

another, from containment to freedom presumably (or of course from one form of

containment to another), the Statian fence also needs gates; they just happen to be

automatons that open whenever Mars approaches (Smolenaars 40), and as such are not

mentioned until later when he does (VII.68f). Chaucer's gate could be an automaton-if

one imagines that "rage" to be Mars-since he uses a passive construction that

equivocates about just who or what is making the gate "rese"; but in that case, the gate

would be malfunctioning since it is made "to rese" but does not actually open. Chaucer's

very word "rese" adds credence to this reading since in this chapter's second passage

from Vergil concerning Latinus and the Gates of War, the verb for unlocking and

opening them is reserat from reserare; "rese" is basically the root of that verb. Chaucer

capitalizes on this word in both Latin and English, not only to allow the simultaneous

existence of three texts in one textual moment (as I discuss below), but also to emphasize

his Mars as trapped within his own Temple boundary, which is exactly the encapsulation

that Theseus accomplishes with the amphitheatre.

There are a few more differences between the three instances of Martian gates in

Vergil, Statius, and Chaucer. Vergil has Janus as guardian, while Statius' Mars has no

guardian: as is fitting to Statius' point, the gates are still presumably those of War of the

Temple of Janus, only Mars has been given complete control over them and is free to

come and go as he pleases; it is only the retinue members of Statius' Mars that we see

milling about inside the Temple that need to be set free by the opening of the gates.6

Chaucer, on the other hand, has only one gate, no Janus, and has no real Mars. He moved

6 Statius departs from Vergil's use of reserare, employing instead dissilire, meaning "to fly apart, burst, be
dissolved" in order to emphasize Mars' powerful control of his own gates (Smolenaars 40).









Statius' gates from further down in the text (where they and Mars who opens them are

outside of the ekphrasis topou), to within his wall painting; when Mars does appear he,

like Mercury before him, is only a shadow of his former self. Chaucer "civilizes" Mars

with his ekphrasis of Statius' extra-ekphrastic Mars, merely calls him "rage," (one way of

translating furor into English), and mocks him as he makes his own gate "rese" (which in

the Latin would mean he had control over it like Statian Mars), but since he only "rattles"

it in English, he is like Vergil's Mars locked away.

In these ways the two Temples of Mars-Statius' and Chaucer's both-

momentarily exist in the same painting at the same time, the Christian subsuming the

pagan in a moment of controlled violence. This idea of two texts occupying the same

textual moment is the primary reason for aural ekphrasis, the second moment of which in

The Knight's Tale (the first was Mercury as "rumbel in a swough" 1.1979) is as follows:

And therout came a rage and swich a veze
That it made al the gate for to rese. (I. 1985-86)

For my purposes, I am translating/modernizing these lines:

And rushing out came Mars in such a Rage
That he made the gate shake furiously.

This way, "rage" corresponds with "Mars," "veze" with "Rage," and "rese" with "shake

furiously" (which is akin to furor), so that the passage illustrates more clearly in modern

English the connection betweenfuror, Furor, and Mars.

I mentioned before that Chaucer's use offuror, Furor, and Mars is chimaeric, and

it certainly is. A good deal of the ambiguity comes from the fact that he says "rage,"

uncapitalized and a direct translation offuror. But this "rage" also acts as a personified

agent in that it shakes the gate, which would indicate a simple form of Furor. More









problematic, however, is the presence (as I will later show) of the Statian Furor, also a

shadow of his former self, in the Temple itself. It is difficult to say whether, because of

his presence elsewhere, that we should think of Statian Furor as occupying both spots, or

whether this would indicate another type of Furor as antonomasia as "rage" (like impius

Furor), or simply Mars himself, patron deity with retinue (even though there is a statue of

him in the painting).7 Certainly the entity shaking the gate in the above lines can

simultaneously be all of these, so Chaucer gives us the "choose your own 'rage'" option.

My preference is for the idea that this "rage" is Mars himself, and I particularly

like to think of this gate as an automaton malfunctioning, and that this is the reason Mars

is in a rage (which is why I have translated the above lines as I have). As someone

surrounded by the modem technology of automatic shop doors and such, I can certainly

appreciate with amusement the image of Mars repeatedly walking up to his gate and it

never opening. In this way, Mars, the terrible pagan god of War, with all the terrible

images on his Temple walls and all his terrible retinue, is trapped behind his own fence; it

would not be the first time that Vulcan played such ajoke. And while Chaucer may

already have a statue of Mars in that painting that makes him look impressive and

powerful, and Arcite might hear "Victorie!" as if it were Mars pronouncing one of

Fleming's ambages, Arcite dies, Mars called "rage" is rattling the gate in a wall painting,

corralled in with his own impotent retinue, and Mercury already prefigures Mars'

ambage with his own. Simply put, Chaucer has whittled away so extravagantly at Mars

that not even his proper epithets are left. He chains his version of the former god not



SI prefer this idea to thinking of it as an actual statue because as part of the painting, although we cannot
tell exactly where in the painting it would be, the idea of stars above or the wolf eating the man below are
spatially less problematic.









with bronze, but with one Latin noun translated ingloriously into uncapitalized English,

trapped by one gate he can no longer command in an aural ekphrasis that further hides

him in sound.

When Chaucer says "And therout came a rage," Mars is past, and has made "the

gate for to rese" in the past; as such there is no sound to hear, nor has there ever been any

sound to hear, because all the sounds have only ever been visual, capable of only ever

having been read: Vergil's impius Furor rattles his chains, Statius' Mars his freely

opening gates, and Chaucer's Mars the gate that locks him in. Then, as most believe,

before Vergil there was Apelles and his painting, which seems to have brought the cycle

full circle with Chaucer.

Statius' Furor is also present in Chaucer's Knight's Tale in a reduced form,

although not aurally ekphrasticized. Statius gives him the epithet laetus ("happy"), and

as such one can imagine him as a terribly dangerous Mad Hatter type. This epithet

survives into Boccaccio's Teseida as well as Chaucer: "Yet saugh I Woodnesse,

laughynge in his rage" (1.2011). "Woodnesse" is Madness, and Madness is Furor, who is

here associated through his maniacal laughing ("in his rage") with the aural ekphrasis of

Mars: "And therout came a rage...." (I.1985). By robbing Statius' laetus Furor of his

richness as a character in Mars' retinue, both Chaucer and his Knight exercise control

over him. Chaucer says that he laughs, not that he is happy; laetus, although not really

"laughing," can mean "fortunate," and as such through word substitution he becomes

simply Madness.

His curious companion, Virtus ("Virtue"), present in Statius' Temple of Mars,

makes an appearance in Boccaccio's Teseida, but is seemingly absent in Chaucer's









Knight's Tale. Elaine Fantham seems to think the juxtaposition of Virtue and Furor is

"most sinister and significant," and defers to F. M. Ahl's opinion that "one's uirtus is

one's ability to destroy" (n.205-06). The fact that Furor is happy and Virtus is sad, and

superlatively so, is yet another strange element here: tristissima can mean that Virtus is

"most sad," but it also denotes that she is also a bringer of sorrow of the worst kind. So

although one's uirtus is the measure of one's manliness, which is obviously augmented

by prowess in battle, it is also by its very nature a measure of one's prowess as bringer of

Death; the force needed to motivate that prowess in the Thebaid is happy Furor, who is

happy to oblige. However, Chaucer changes his companion and Virtus becomes

"Meschaunce ["Misfortune"],/With disconfort and sory contenaunce" (1.2009-10). So

there is then no longer any measure of manliness or prowess or potency as killer in

Chaucer's Temple of Mars: there is only a simple crazy (Furor), a socially

uncomfortable prosopopoeia of Misfortune, and random images of violence with no

value and no measure.

Chaucer has frustrated the power and influence of Mars and Furor through

painting and Theseus' encapsulation of both the battle and the temples in the

amphitheatre. I believe this is the reason he depicts Mars, now a shadow of his former

self, as rattling that gate so furiously. Perhaps we may even interpret this aural ekphrasis

as the empty "Victorie!" that Arcite thinks he hears Mars speak.














CHAPTER 4
AURAL EKPHRASIS OF THE FOREST OF TROPHIES: "AL FUL OF CHIRKYNG
WAS THAT SORY PLACE"

The last and least obscure of the aural ekphrases from Chaucer's Knight's Tale is

that of the Forest of Trophies surrounding the Fence of a Thousand Furors, surrounding

the Temple of Mars. What Mercury sees as he descends is marked in a sentence that

begins the ekphrasis topou:

hic steriles delubra notat Mavortia silvas
horrescitque tuens.... (VII.40-41)

Here he marks barren woods, Mars' shrine
and shudders as he looks.

Immediately the use of sterilis claims this place as one of death, associating it with the

Underworld where all of the trees, except those producing fruit to torture Tantalus, are

barren (Smolenaars 24-25). Although "steriles" modifies the feminine, accusative plural

Silvass" ("woods"), it is conspicuously placed next to "delubra," the neuter accusative

plural for "shrines," which is in turn being modified by "Mavortia"; conversely, the latter

is conspicuously placed next to Silvass." If we were to translate syntactically in addition

to the above translation, then the shrines would be sterile and the woods Martian; this is

of course not proper, but certainly poetically suggested because "shrines" is plural,

thereby not exclusively referring to the Temple itself (contrary to Shackleton Bailey's

translation), and because of Mercury's reaction to this sight.

Mercury shudders at the woods and the shrines and we wonder why since, as I have

mentioned before, this is a god who, as Psychopompos, is very familiar with the









Underworld and all of its horrors. So what is it about these woods and shrines that affects

him in this manner? In the Aeneidwe see what happens to Aeneas' trophies from

Mezentius, whom he slays, the cruel king who lived to see his son dead:

vota deum primo voctor solvebat Eoo.
Ingentem quercum decisis undique ramis
constituit tumulo fulgentiaque induit arma,
Mezenti ducis exuvias, tibi, magne, tropaeum,
bellipotens: aptat rorantis sanguine cristas
telaque trunca viri et bis sex thoraca petitum
perfossumque locis clipeumque ex aere sinistrae
subligat atque ensem collo suspendit eburnum
Tum socios, namque omnis eum stipata tegebat
turba ducum, sic incipiens hostatur ovantis:
'... haec sunt spolia et de rege superbo
primitiae, manibusque meis Mezentius hic est.' (XI.4-13; 15-16)

...he first
In early light discharged his ritual vows
As victor to the gods. A big oak trunk
Lopped of its boughs, he planted on a mound
And dressed it with Mezentius' bright gear
To make a trophy, god of war, to thee.
He fitted it with a crest still oozing blood,
With javelins of the warrior, and his cuirass,
Twelve times cut and breached. On the left side
He tied the bronze shield, and he slung the ivory
Scabbard and sword around the figure's neck.
Then he addressed the officers...
'...I stripped
These arms from a proud king my offering now,
First trophy in the war: Mezentius,
Become this figure at my hands.' (XI.4-15; 19-22)1





1 Fitzgerald's translation uses the word "figure," but the Latin words he is translating are notfigura. For
example, the dead tree "dressed" in Mezentius' armor is, as Aeneas says when he addresses his troops in
the Latin, "Mezentius by my hands"; the word for one of these trophies is tropaeum. Considering the long
history of the wordfigura and its diverse meanings and uses, it is a bit misleading to use "figure" here in
Vergil, although the way Fitzgerald is translating it is probably (and appropriately) most akin to Ovid's use
of it in the sense of a metamorphosis (Auerbach 22). For further discussion offigura, see Erich Auerbach,
"Figura," Scenes from the Drama of European Literature. Trans. Ralph Manheim (New York: Meridian
Books, Inc., 1959): 11-76.









Fitzgerald's note to this passage tells us that this ritual was performed in Vergil's time by

soldiers of the Roman army after battle successes (479), and it is a theme we see cropping

up several times. In the following example, Evander, king of Pallanteum and ally of

Aeneas, is mourning the death of his young son, Pallas; the scene is the funeral of Pallas

and Evander apostrophizes both Pallas and Tumus, who has killed him:

Magna tropaea ferunt, quos dat tua dextera Leto:
tu quoque nunc stares immanis truncus in armis,
esset par aetas et idem si robur ab annis,
Tume. (XI.172-75)

... Men to whom
Your sword-arm dealt out death are here as trophies,
Great ones; you, too, Turnus, would stand here,
A huge trunk hung with arms, had age and strength
And seasoning of years matched him with you. (XI.236-40)

Later we see the Trojans accidentally cutting down a tree sacred to Faunus who, as a

deity associated with life and fertility instead of death like Mars, receives his offerings on

a living tree:

... nautis olim venerabile lignum,
servati ex undis ubi figere dona solebant
Laurenti divo et votas suspendere vestes,
sed stirpem Teucri nullo discrimine sacrum
sustulerant, puro ut possent concurrere campo. (XII.767-71)

... those who survived
Shipwreck or storm fixed votive offerings there
And hung their garments to Laurentum's god.
The Trojans, treating it like any other,
Had left a stump but lopped away the tree,
So they could fight on a clear field. (XII. 1039-44)

The reason explicitly stated above for chopping down the tree certainly makes sense, but

since we have already seen many trees felled to make offerings, it is tempting to think

that the Trojans are such successful warriors that they have even resorted to hubristically









chopping down sacred trees in order to furnish enough dead trunks for all of their votive

trophies.

It is hard to imagine the vast number of these trophies that would have to be erected

from just one battle, but it is easy to imagine them all collected around the Temple of

Mars, forming a barren forest of Martian shrines that would make Mercury shudder.

They could even be read as those "thousand Rages" that "gird" the house of Mars, almost

dressing it, since this is the way Vergil describes Aeneas affixing Mezentius' armor to the

dead trunk (XI.8). In this way they are also linked to Furor, since it is he and Ira that are

helping Mars to dress in the Thebaid.

It seems highly unlikely that these important scenes would have escaped Statius, or

that they would not figure into his writing, since in the Thebaidwe see Furor in his role

as aide-de-plume. Clearly the syntax and diction of the text support the "steriles

delubra... Mavortia silvas" as a Forest of Trophies. Chaucer would have had twofold

exposure to this idea and the terrible nature of it via Vergil and Statius, and Statius'

incorporation of the idea is certainly creative, albeit enigmatic. I believe that Chaucer

understood the Forest of Trophies in a way fairly similar to how I have described it, and

that he then incorporated this into his wall painting in the Temple of Mars. After Statius'

description of Vergil's trophies Chaucer would certainly have to be innovative to match

or better him, and this probably would have proved difficult since he was describing a flat

surface painting instead of an imagined three-dimensional structure. To this end-in

addition to allowing a moment in Statius' text (and through his, Vergil's) to occupy the

same and single moment as his own Knight's Tale in his own Knight's Tale-Chaucer

created the aural ekphrasis "Al ful of chirkyng was that sory place" (1.2004). The









"chirkyng" is the metal noise, to be sure omnipresent, of the creaking, rattling, and

clashing of the vast Forest of Trophies as they are subjected to the same northern wind

and hail as Mercury. These Vergilian "trees" would also explain why Chaucer takes time

to describe the "bareyne trees olde,/ Of stubbes sharpe and hidouse to biholde" (I.1977-

78): the "chirkyng" twenty-six lines later refers to them.

This aural ekphrasis too displays Chaucer's opinion of the futility of war as we

come to know this Forest of Trophies in his text as only the creepy sound of "chirkyng,"

in which there is no honor and no measure of absent Virtus. In this "chirkyng" Chaucer

has yet again removed the personal gain of war stealing the tropaea of individual death-

prowess and allure of war-booty in one move by using a noise that is scary not in a

dominant, aggressive way so necessary in warfare, but in the repulsively eerie way of the

Underworld.

The point to which these three aural ekphrases tend is that Chaucer thinks much the

same of war as Statius (and indeed Vergil), and these represent his inventive way of

illustrating it. I do not think, however, that the aural ekphrases were crafted in any one-

upmanship manner. They allow Statius' Thebaid and his use of sources, mostly Vergil's

Aeneid, to exist simultaneously in three very specific textual moments of his Knight's

Tale in what seem like a respectful and poetically imaginative furthering of their texts

and opinions. Chaucer's very Statian Mercury is silent but he is also the loudest and

most ominously onomatopoeic noise of all as the "Rumbel in a swough." He is a

conspicuous symbol of the danger of holding one's tongue in the face of war, but also the

uselessness of unleashing it and becoming a coward whose "talk is cheap." As Vergil's

Turnus reproaches Drances:









... Sed non replanda est curia verbis,
quae tuto tibi magna volant, dum distinct hostem
agger murorem nec inundat sanguine fossae.
Proinde tona eloquio, solitum tibi, meque timoris
argue tu, Drance, quando tot stragis acervos
Teucrorum tua dextra dedit passimque tropaeis
insignis agros. (XI.380-86)

No need to fill this hall with words, big words
You can let fly in safety....Hammer away
With all your rhetoric. Say I'm afraid
When your own sword has left the dead in heaps,
The field brilliant with trophies everywhere. (XI.517f.)

Turnus' speech here links Mercury, Mars, and the Forest of Trophies and perhaps we

have here the beginning of Statius' Book VII ekphrasis topou of his Temple of Mars.

Chaucer's Mars called "rage" rattles his gate to no effect; behind him in the Temple,

Furor called simply "Woodnesse" cackles; and Virtus, now "Meschaunce," just looks

uncomfortable. The Forest of Trophies too makes its noise, an inglorious shadow of what

Turnus above boasts of having caused.

We have in these aural ekphrases of Chaucer a unique opportunity to listen to the

sounds from the past that he has recorded together, his own compilation, to boldly and

rhetorically confront us with what is quite possibly war's worst sensory element, but

certainly its least suspected and prepared for: its noise. One can always close the eyes.

These three collections of noise, then, are from the Roman past, but also the ancient

Greek as the epithet Cyllenian reminds us. In these aural ekphrases is the resolution

beyond that of Arcite's future, of Mars and Mercury's ambage: "Victorie!" is not that of

the soldier or the general or the politician in support, it belongs to laetus Mars who will

be both happy and fortunate if we are foolish enough to once again silence the rhetoric of

peace by calling it coward, give Mars back his automaton gates, and re-introduce Virtus






54


and Furor; essentially, if we return again to Statius, and are again swayed by Vergil's

Tumus.














CHAPTER 5
CONCLUSIONS

I have in the previous chapters presented my philological explanations for

Chaucer's "noisy" Martian wall paintings. To make my discussion more complete,

however, I will in this chapter briefly talk about what his strange use of ekphrasis could

mean for the critical and theoretical traditions of this topos and "medieval noise."

Michael Baxandall-in a book based on a series of lectures designed to address the

question, "If we offer a statement about the causes of a picture, what is the nature and

basis of the statement?"-reminds us that

The nature of language...means that the description is less a representation of the picture,
or even a representation of seeing the picture, than a representation of thinking about
having seen the picture (11).

When we talk about a picture at length, or even superficially, we almost surely describe

what it looks like in some way; when we talk about Chaucer's aural ekphrases, we must

ultimately describe them philologically, because they are less representations of what the

painting in the Temple of Mars looks like, or representations of what Arcite or the Knight

"see" there, than representations of Chaucer remembering having read Statius and Vergil,

and Statius remembering having read Vergil and Ovid.

The use of ekphrasis

in Hellenistic rhetoric was totally unrestricted: it referred, most broadly, to a
verbal description of something, almost anything, in life or art....it consistently
carried with it the sense of a set verbal device that encouraged an extravagance in
detail and vividness in representation, so that...our ears could serve as our eyes
since "[ekphrasis] must through hearing operate to bring about seeing." (Krieger
7)









This could certainly be Chaucer's objective in representing Mercury, Mars, and the

Forest of Trophies aurally, and since his tale is an ancient Greek legend he knows

through a Roman author, this version of ekphrasis works well. Even though there is

quite a bit of detail given about the Temple of Mars' painting and even the Temple itself,

most of it is spatially nonsensical; that is to say, that although certain images are

described as existing in the painting, in what order or size they exist is almost impossible

to tell since the seer does not have to see from left to right as one reads English, and there

are no handy prepositions to give it away. In fact, as I stated earlier, the statue of Mars is

even difficult to place, not to mention the stars above it or the figures at its feet.

So if ekphrasis is "the illusionary representation of the unrepresentable" like

Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn" (Krieger xv), then Chaucer's particular flavor of Martian

ekphrasis is a cache of ostraka. They are illusionary not in that they are unrepresentable

(each ostrakon certainly is, and we can certainly imagine them together as well, in a

heap), but that they ever were parts of the same urn and can be represented that way

through language, which is at once the tool we use to glue them together, and that which

Chaucer used to smash them apart. It is natural for us to attempt to rebuild these pieces

because they make us so uncomfortable, but what we are building is a chimaera, a

monster. I have done it, am doing it in this thesis, and I have said, "We can imagine

Mercury/Mars/the Forest of Trophies..."; this seems to be what Chaucer wanted us to do,

and his text asks us to do. But ultimately he has created tangible aural holes that are also

ostraka, ostracized aporia if you will, which, Protean as they are, evade all attempts

(including mine) at creating our monster-urn, because as we theorize on the painting as a

whole, we put the ostraka together without the aural ekphrasis pieces; as we theorize on









the aural ekphrases, we put them together and thereby exclude other ostraka; and as we

theorize on just the ostraka-images themselves, we impossibly leave them in their heap

because otherwise we are right back at a complete monster-urn with no aural ekphrasis

ostraka. Chaucer has given us a Protean puzzle that our textual archaeology only

complicates further, and as such his Martian ekphrasis is a description of the myth of an

urn, its whole the pieces of many other urns fitting perfectly together; that is to say, the

myth of a painting that visually provides us with the "big picture" at the same time that it

denies it, showing only its parts, which have only ever been textual genetics. The

Sphinx, stealing from the Muses, could do no better than this.

Perhaps his aural ekphrasis is a maneuver intended to explain the very nature of

ekphrasis (or at least the great ekphrases worth imitating), which is to say that they

cannot be translated without describing an entirely new object or place; it is possible that

the confines of at least one of the languages will also prescribe an entirely new way of

looking at it. We do not have a word in English that is associated with gold, wind, and

hearing, nor do we have a verb that means to sing, warn, and be silver; the English shield

of Aeneas is not the same as the Latin one because the ekphrasis cannot possibly be. The

best Chaucer could do was to create a new and fantastic way of referring us to the

original or originals that would leave basically intact the referents. Considering how he

believed sound to work as "eyr brokenn" it would not be a great stretch for him to move

from "pieces" of air, to the "pieces" of original text to which they refer.

Jeffrey Cohen's article on "medieval noise," although it does not discuss these

aural ekphrases found in Chaucer's Knight's Tale, approaches the strange animal, as it

were, of noise itself: "Noise is body, monster, materiality, the other, the sound of all









those differences that seem to have been excluded but inhabit the heart of identity" (269).

Cohen further explores the rhetorical ramifications of his "noise monster," from blasts of

noise (such as "battle cries.., as the explosive negative" [270]), to the degeneration or

downright absence of noise: "To rob members of the lower classes of their humanity

through the removal of their language is, moreover, a common rhetorical strategy for

medieval writers" (273). What we have in Chaucer is the tangible, present absence of

noise that was never noise in that it was only ever visual (even if by reading the source

texts), or in that it was only ever the visual suggestion of noise (through the Latin of the

source texts); which is certainly to say a "noise-monster." As in Cohen's description, the

sounds of the aural ekphrases do "inhabit the heart of identity" in that they inhabit other,

source texts at the same time, which makes them the sounds of those different texts and

the differences between them; at the same time as this they are also the sounds of

Chaucer's text and the differences between it and its sources. And while the different

translations of crepare that dominate the aural ekphrases link Chaucer's ultimately

Christian text with its pagan sources, thereby celebrating sound, they also serve to silence

them through translation, the "removal of their language."

The Lernaean hydra-like nature of these "noisy" wall paintings in Chaucer's

Temple of Mars allows for an inexhaustible number of approaches that continually

multiply and complicate their polytropism; as such this thesis project will always be

incomplete. What I have tried to do is offer an explanation of these strange occurrences

of sound without totalizing (respectfully doing my duty by each author's work), and

which is fairly representative of appropriate criticism while containing it all within the

limits of a thesis. When Vergil tells us in one reading of "auratis," "And here you all






59


hear the silvery goose as he flutters..." we are invited to look on the shield of Aeneas

with Aeneas, to look in the past and see its past future, and to hear the proleptic metal

handiwork of the immortal Vulcan; when Chaucer says "Ther saugh I... a rumbel in a

swough.. .a rage and swich a veze, that he made al the gate for to rese... [and]...al ful of

chirkyng was that sory place," we are invited to read Vergil with Chaucer and Statius.

We are, in other words, invited to hear what we can see, to read what we have read, and

through these, to become ourselves part of the Martian ekphrasis.
















LIST OF REFERENCES

Auerbach, Erich. "Figura." Scenes from the Drama of European Literature. Trans.
Ralph Manheim. New York: Meridian Books, Inc., 1959.

Baxandall, Michael. Patterns of Intention: On the Historical Explanation of Pictures.
New Haven: Yale UP, 1985.

Boccaccio, Giovanni. The Book of Theseus (Teseida delle Nozze d'Emilia). Trans
Bernadette Marie McCoy. New York: Teesdale, 1974.

Boccaccio, Giovanni. Theseid of the Nuptials of Emilia (Teseida delle nozze di Emilia.
Trans. Vincenzo Traversa. New York: Peter Lang, 2002.

Chaucer, Geoffrey. The Riverside Chaucer. Ed. Larry D. Benson. 3rd ed. Boston:
Houghton, 1987.

Cohen, Jeffrey J. "Kyte Oute Yugilment: An Introduction to Medieval Noise."
Exemplaria 16.2 (2004): 267-76.

DiMarco, Vincent J. The Riverside Chaucer. Ed. Larry D. Benson. 3rd ed. Boston:
Houghton, 1987, 826-841.

Dodds, E. R. The Greeks and the Irrational. Berkeley: University of California Press,
1951.

Dominik, William J. The Mythic Voice of Statius: Power and Politics in the Thebaid.
Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1994.

Dominik, William J. Speech and Rhetoric in Statius' Thebaid. Hildesheim: Olms-
Weidmann, 1994.

Fantham, Elaine. "'Envy and fear and the begetter of hate': Statius' Thebaid and the
genesis of hatred." The Passions in Roman Thought and Literature. Eds. Susanna
Morton Braund and Christopher Gill. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1997.

Fleming, John V. Classical Imitation and Interpretation in Chaucer's Troilus.
Lincoln:University of Nebraska Press, 1990.

Fredrick, David. "Haptic Poetics." Arethusa 32 (1999): 49-83.






61


Hanning, Robert W. "'The Struggle between Noble Designs and Chaos': The
LiteraryTradition of Chaucer's Knight's Tale." The Literary Review 23.4 (1980
Summer): 519-541.

Kolve, V. A. Chaucer and the Imagery of Narrative: The First Five Canterbury Tales.
Stanford: Stanford UP, 1984.

Krieger, Murray. Ekphrasis: The Illusion of the Natural Sign. Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins UP, 1992.

Lenardon, Robert J. and Mark P.O. Morford. Classical Mythology. 7th ed. New York:
Oxford UP, 2003.

Matthews, Victor J. Antimachus of Colophon: Text and Commentary. Leiden: E.
J.Brill, 1996.

Quintilian. Institutio Oratoria. Trans. H. E. Butler. Vol. 3. Cambridge: Harvard UP,
1976.

Roney, Lois. Chaucer's Knight's Tale and Theories of Scholastic Psychology. Tampa:
University of South Florida Press, 1990.

Smolenaars, J. J. L. Statius Thebaid VII: A Commentary. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1994.

Statius, Publius Papinius. The Thebaid. Vol. 2-3. Trans. D. R. Shackleton Bailey.
Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2003.

Statius, Publius Papinius. The Thebaid. Trans. Charles Stanley Ross. Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins UP, 2004.

Traupman, John C. Latin & English Dictionary. New York: Bantam, 1995.

Vergil. The Aeneid. Trans. Robert Fitzgerald. Introd. Philip Hardie. New York: Alfred
A. Knopf, 1992.

Vergil. The Aeneid. Ed. J. B. Greenough. 1900. Perseus. 27 May 2005. Available
online at .















BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

Valerie Ann Leitner holds two Bachelor of Arts degrees, summa cum laude, in

English literature and classical studies from the University of Florida (August 2000). She

received her Master of Arts in English from the University of Florida in May 2006. Her

areas of specialization are medieval to early modem English literature, and classical

rhetoric and philology.