Chanticleer and the Fox
An Adaptation
Geoffrey Chaucer
There was once a poor widow who lived
in a little cottage by the trees against the sun
and gale. She led a very simple life with her two
daughters making the best of what the Lord
could give. They had three cows and a sheep
and enough room for them to cook and sleep
but she had no money for fancy food. Milk,
brown bread, fried bacon, and egg were enough
for them. They need no doctor, for their
medicine was thrift and peace and quiet.
The widow ran her household with
good sense. She had a fenced yard for poultry
and there she kept a rooster called Chanticleer
who had no equal everywhere. He could
cheerfully crow so loud and strong that you
could set your watch to its perfect timing.
His ruddy comb was like a coral in hue,
his bill, jet black and his legs and toes were blue.
His nails were white as lilies and his burnished
body flashed in its perfect mold.
This noble cock was lord to seven hens
who followed and adored him. The fairest of all
the hens was named Pertelote. She was
courteous, discreet, and companionable that
from the day she was seven nights old, she had
totally smitten Chanticleer’s heart.
As each morning came to bring another
day, Chanticleer and Pertelote would sing in
sweetest tunes, for those days animals could
talk:
“My love... don’t ever leave me!”
One early morning, at dawn, the
rooster who was sleeping on his perch next to
his wife, began to shift and lurch. Upon hearing
him shift and moan, Dame Pertelote was upset
and said, “My dearest heart, what’s wrong with
you?”
And he replied, “I just dreamed as I
walked around the yard, a hungry hound
pounced on me. It was red and yellow with
black-tipped tail and ears. Its pointed snout
backed up by two glowing eyes made me groan
with fright.”
To this Dame Pertelote answered, “ I
swear from God above, now you have lost my
heart and love. I cannot love a coward for no
matter how we act, we women want our
husbands hardy, wise, confident, tactful and
sensible. What good’s a beard if a man’s heart is
lacking? Don’t be afraid of dreams for nothing
in a dream is what it seems. Most dreams are
the result of overeating.”
The excited Chanticleer beat his wings
and bowed, then said, “I beg to disagree,
Madam. I can site many cases where my
dreams come true. Just the other day, I read
about a traveller who dreamed he saw a close
friend stabbed and killed, and his belongings
nabbed. This dream proved true and helped the
law men catch and hang the killers.”
“I also know about two men who were
about to board a ship. The night before, one
dreamed of drowning. So, he decided to stay
behind while the other one sailed just the same.
The ship was lost at sea with all aboard.”
“These stories, sweetheart, tell us not
to make fun of other people’s dreams.
Andromache, the mighty Hector’s wife, told him
a dream that might have saved his life. She
pleaded with him not to join the Trojan army
but he went forth to battle and was slain.”
“In short, I know that this vision I saw
last night will bring me grief. But let us forget all
the omens and bad dreams for when I see the
beauty of your face, your lovely eyes rimmed
with scarlet red, suddenly all my dread is gone
for certainly, a woman is a man’s delight and all
his bliss. Such a joy to me your eyes beam that I
defy the warning of the dream.”
With this, he flew down from the beam
and pecked for grains with the others. How he
crowed with merry voice for it was spring, the
blissful season which causes birds to sing.
While Chanticleer was singing, a coal-
black fox who had recently lived in the grove for
three years saw a chance to do his worst. Upon
seeing the hidden fox, Chanticleer cut short his
cheerful song and raised a ruckus to alert his
wife. He turned to go but the fox said, “Gentle
Sir, good day! I am your loyal friend. I have no
wish to harm you. I simply came to hear you
sing. Your father was often in my house as an
honoured guest. And truly, I would like to
please the son, who, I know is his father’s equal
in singing.”
Chanticleer was intrigued by the flattery.
He stood on tiptoe, beat his wings, stretched his
neck closed both eyes and crowed,
“Cockadoodledoo!”
Without much ado, the fox pounced
upon the bird and dragged him off to the
adjoining wood. The lady hens, however, were
not mute. There was loud crying and
lamentation from Pertelote and all the hens
that saw Chanticleer dragged by the fox.
“Stop! Thief! Catch the fox!” they
screamed.
Armed with stick and rocks, the
neighbours joined them. Boys, girls, ducks, dogs,
hogs, geese, left what they were to follow the
big noise. It seemed the heavens were about to
fall.
For all his fright, the rooster did not lose
his voice. He said, “If I were you, I’d tell them
off. Tell them, turn back, you bullies- go away
from this rooster, he’s mine!”
The fox replied, “You’re absolutely
right!”
But as he opened his mouth, his grip on
the rooster came loose and gave the bird a
chance to fly and settle upon the nearest tree.
When the fox saw that the bird was free,
he said, “O. Chanticleer, please pardon me. I say
no harm was meant. If you come down, I will
tell you my real intention.”
The rooster answered, “I’d truly be a
dunce if I would let you fool me more than once.
Your flattering talk and honeyed look cannot
serve as a bait to catch me on your hook. Surely,
he that closes both his eyes instead of watching
what before him lies deserved his fate.”
“True.”, said the fox., “it’s my belief
that he who babbles on when he should guard
his tounge, deserved to see his fortune marred.”