Three Species of Allegorical Fox

From time to time in mediaeval (and not only mediaeval) art and literature, animals drop by - mostly symbolic ones. By their character and generally understood perceptions of them, they stand in for something or other, often glossed by context. Butterflies and chameleons, whom I discussed a few posts back, are two of the rarer creatures in this little occasional zoo, so their meaning is rather sparse and one-sided. If they were in a dictionary, they'd only have one entry. Creatures like lions, boars, deer and foxes, on the other hand, are more familiar and more common, and often have a range of (sometimes contradictory) meanings. If they were in a dictionary, they would take up a whole column with different definitions.

Or, to hop abruptly to a different metaphor[1]: there is only one species of butterfly, and it is closely related to the chameleon - probably in the same genus. But there are many different species of fox within the vulpes genus. Here are three encountered in my reading today, from just one text[2]:

Vulpes astuta carnivora, or the Sly Devouring Fox, is a subtle threat in that he rarely shows his true self, but desires only to soothe his prey with an innocuous face before bolting it down. If thwarted, may resort to sarcasm:

Ther be nowe oo maner of pepill [a kind of people] that be gret desyuerres [deceivers], [like] as these grete loordes the which taketh giftes and seruices of thoo that hatth neede of theire helpe and euer taketh and euer promisseth and atte the laste they haue but federis [feathers] and woordis, as the foxe seide to the larke. (167, 'Off Disceite')

Cheated out of a satisfying meal, this species may accuse his erstwhile victim of resorting to his own tricks, possibly unaware of his hypocrisy.

Vulpes astuta arguta, or the Clever-tongued Fox, belongs to the same sub-species as the last, but is better known for his smooth tongue and his ability to convince his victim to act in a way detrimental to their own interests. He may then take advantage of the deception to devour his prey, as does V. a. carnivora, or he may seek to deprive them of some other benefit or possession:

Alsoo ther be some strong disseyueres ... [who] maketh to beleve that the swan is blacke[3] and the crowe white, as the foxe didde the ravyn whom he sawe hoolde a peece of chese in his beeke. "Oo birde"[4], seide hee, "what thowe art feire and white. If thowe kowdest [could] synge, thow sholdest passe [surpass] alle birdes." And than he [the raven] reioyssed [rejoiced] hym and openyed the beeke to synge. And the cheese felle fro hym, and the foxe cawght it anon. This is of Ysopeis fablis [Aesop's fables], but the example is noo fable, that siche foxes and siche flatererris [flatterers] berith aweye grete rentes and gret giftes and ... lacketh but oo thyng, as Seneque [Seneca] seith, that is to seye, on to seye trouthe. (167, 'Off Disceite')

Vulpes lasciva dissumulata, also known as the Lusty Brush-tail. A rarer species, of which only the females are seen. Definitely not to be trusted, and motivated primarily by lust for sensual pleasure. These conceal their evil nature not with their words, but with an exceptionally large and luxuriously furred tail. If the tail is pried aside, however, their filthy, stinking underbelly and privy parts may be discerned:

[Flatterers] ascuseth [excuse] and couerith the synnes of theyme that theye wil flatere. And therfore in scripture theye be called tailles, for theye couere the harlotrye [not solely sexual] of the synnes of riche men for some temporel availe. Wherfore theye be likenyd to the tayle of a shee foxe [she-fox] ... for theire deceit and theire trecherie. (197, 'Off Flaterynge')

It seems that I'll have to keep an eye out for more foxes in order to flesh out the species tree! Reynard in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, of course, borrows from all these traditions, including the coward, the vermin-in-the-hunting-field and the (literally!) uncovered deceiver, of which we have no representative today. But sadly, he is too much of a hybrid to be properly classified.


[1] It's not mixing if the first one never recurs! Juxtaposed metaphors?

[2] The mirroure of the worlde: a Middle English translation of Le miroir du monde, ed. Robert R. Raymo et al. for the Bodlein Library, Medieval Academy Books 106 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003). It's very similar to The Book of Vices and Virtues - enough so that either the French source of one must have been copying the other, or they were both indebted to one common source. Mirroure, however, lacks the butterfly metaphor.

[3] Apparently the author had never visited Australia.

[4] Inverted commas inserted by yours truly, to make the direct speech easier to decipher for anyone less familiar with Middle English.

The Fifth Deadly Sin: Auarice

Avarice is an odd one. Firstly, it seems to forbid any kind of profit-making at all, not just what we traditionally think of as the usury that was the sole province of those nasty Jews. Secondly, it contains many elements that I find it impossible to reconcile with the idea of avarice at all, no matter how far I stretch my imagination - assaulting priests, for example. Thirdly, it is longer and more detailed than any of the other sins we've seen so far, even pride. Fourthly, though we were told that pride is the first sin and the root of all the others, here we are told that avarice is "þe roote of alle yueles, as seiþ seynt Poule" (30). The attribution partly explains the anomaly - various theological authorities have doubtless stressed relative sins differently, and it's natural to take the most extreme view of each when you want to emphasise the gravity of the sin under discussion.

However, all these elements together suggest a deep and widespread concern about the sin - whatever it actually is - and about capitalist tendencies and profit, possibly related to the increased social mobility generated by the economic fluxes in the wake of the plagues. Only - Lorens' original predates the plague. I'm not quite sure what to make of it. It's possible that the translator added to or expanded on his source, of course, but if he did that here I find it hard to believe he didn't do it elsewhere, and the style as a whole just feels too consistent and organised to believe it.

Avarice has ten boughs:

Usury, which has seven types.
- Lending against collateral.
- Inheriting and refusing to return money made by usury.
- Lending through agents.
- Lending the goods of other men, or buying/borrowing them for little and lending them for much more.
- Giving credit for usury, or buying cheaper than the goods are worth and selling them dearer (well, that's everyone in our retail and hospitality industries done for).
- Speculating.
- Lending to people in dire financial straits and making them work off the loan for more than it's worth.

Theft has four types.
- Common theft, of men who live by theft.
- Hidden theft, when one "steleþ slighly bi-hynde and queynteli grete þinges or smale as to bigile a man or bitraye a man bi suteltee" (32-33). I'm not quite sure how we would interpret that nowadays, but I'm hardly an expert on various forms of theft.
- Privy theft, which is theft not from strangers but from those one deals with or serves, such as withholding rent. Incidentally, this is the sin women commit when she knows the child she carries within her is not her husband's and therefore "schal bere þe heritage þere he haþ no right" (33).
- Fellows in theft - accessory.

Rapine, or abuse of office.
- False executors, who rob dead men.
- Wicked lords who extort from those under them.
- Thieving innkeepers.
- Avoiders of debt.
- Extortionate prelates.
- Oppressive officials, like the Summoner in the Friar's Tale.

Challenge, which seems to be specifically related to litigation. This sounds more familiar! Many scholars come to learn at the court of this "lady of couetise", we are told, and they may be divided into seven (or, in fact, six) kinds:
- False plaintiffs.
- People who falsely flee 'what is right' - a court summons, perhaps, or ought it to be understood more generally?
- False witnesses.
- Lawyers who undertake cases they know to be false.
- False notaries and attorneys.
- False judges.

Sacrilege. I cannot understand why this appears under avarice. The sub-divisions don't make it any clearer, since in few instances is there any profit to the sinner.
- Mistreatment of the Eucharist and other sacraments.
- Violation of church buildings.
- Defilement of sacred spaces, as by brawling or lechery on hallowed ground.
- Violence towards men or women of religion.
- Theft from the church.
- Misuse of church property.
- Refusal to give food/water to a beggar when requested.
- Refusal to give up what belongs to the church, such as tithes and offerings.
- Breaking the Sabbath.

Simony. I wonder if Chaucer's Pardoner's name is Simon? It's a nice name.
- Buying or selling sacraments.
- Selling the Word of God - ie, preaching for silver.
- Selling church offices.
- Selling church livings.
- Selling benefices.
- Selling vows.

Malignity, or shrewedness, when a man doesn't turn away from doing great harm to another man for a little profit to himself.
- Forsaking God and turning heathen for profit. This includes people who make this choice "for drede of pouerte" (39). Remember, boys and girls, God wants you to starve to death.
- Murder for profit.
- Destruction of property for profit.
- Sowing of discord where one stands to gain by it.
- Oppressing the poor for profit. It's the Summoner again!

Merchandising.
- Selling dear and buying cheap (again, I'm sure I've written this one already).
- False swearing.
- Weighing things falsely.
- Giving credit.
- Substituting inferior goods for those purchased.
- Concealing truth.
- Misrepresentation.

Schrewed craftes.
- Prostitution.
- Professional fighting. Presumably this excludes tournaments, for they are chivalric and heroic. So long as they don't "fyght for wynnyng of siluer" (41), I suppose they'd get out of it!

Wikked pleyes - gaming, dice, hazards. Many sins come from these habits!
- Covetousness.
- Usury.
- Profanity.
- Bad example.
- Waste of time.

We close with six sarcastic "comaundementes" for the covetous:
1. That he "kepeþ wel his good" - that is, his profit or what he has won.
2. That it "litle nought in his hond".
3. That "his good wexe [increase] euere day more and more".
4. That "he ne yeue [give] no þing ne do non almesse [give no alms] ne no curtesie".
5. That he "lene nought [lend not] to pore men ne wommen ne put his good in perel".
6. Finally, let him "restreyne hymself and his meyne [children] from mete [food] and drynke for to spare þe more his good". (42)


Unless otherwise specified, all quotes are from The book of vices and virtues: a fourteenth century English translation of the Somme le roi of Lorens d'Orleans. Ed. W. Nelson Francis. Early English Text Society OS 217. London: Oxford University Press, 1942.