The Morall Fabillis of Esope the Phrygian

The Morall Fabillis of Esope the Phrygian is a work of Northern Renaissance literature composed in Middle Scots by the fifteenth century Scottish makar, Robert Henryson.

The drama of the cycle exploits a set of complex moral dilemmas through the figure of animals representing a full range of human psychology.

The subtle and ambiguous way in which Henryson adapted and juxtaposed material from a diversity of sources in the tradition and exploited anthropomorphic conventions to blend human characteristics with animal observation both worked within, and pushed the bounds of, standard practice in the common medieval art of fable re-telling.

Henryson fully exploited the fluid aspects of the tradition to produce an unusually sophisticated moral narrative, unique of its kind, making high art of an otherwise conventional genre.

Readers who were familiar with the genre may have found the tone, range and complexity of Henryson's attractive, variegated and interlinked fable elaboration unexpected, but the method was not without precedent.

A similar "trick" with the genre is found in Chaucer's Nun's Priest's Tale, which is retold by Henryson as Fabill 3 in his sequence and is one of the poem's most directly identifiable sources.

[4][5] Use of number for compositional control was common in medieval poetics and could be intended to have religious symbolism, and features in the accepted text of the Morall Fabilliis indicate that this was elaborately applied in that poem.

Various literary scholars have noted the apparent symmetry in the architecture, citing it as evidence of an organising principle Henryson employed to "lock" the structure of the poem, aesthetically beautiful in its own right and holding important clues for interpreting his larger meaning or purpose.

Finally John MacQueen cites fragmentation in surviving textual witnesses for the poem before 1570 as grounds for caution in asserting with certainty that the overall structure represents Henryson's intention.

[7] Nevertheless, the above outline describes the structure as received from the 16th century prints and manuscripts which give what the literary scholar Matthew McDiarmid calls the "accepted text".

And said, 'God speid, my sone... (Robert Henryson, Morall Fabillis, lines 1347–1363) Other Henrysonian variations from the traditional portrait include identifying Aesop as Roman rather than Greek, and as Christianised rather than pagan.

Henryson's contribution to the fable tradition is such a uniquely developed, subtly crafted and ambiguous example of a commonplace genre that it presents questions as to the poet's ultimate purpose in composition.

It begins with a defence of the art of storytelling, argues that humour is a necessary part of life and tells the reader that the intention is to make a translation of Aesop from Latin.

He expands the unremarkable classroom material with an unusual degree of refinement, invention and cognisance, establishes a mature and personalised relationship with the reader, highlights Aesop's uncomfortably human context and hints at ambiguities.

The first fabill in the Romulus text, De Gallo et Jaspide (The Cock and the Jewel), depicts a cockerel who rejects a valuable gemstone in preference for more precious grain.

[12] Although the fabill has no substantial story as such, Henryson's version quietly keeps the narrative promises made in the prolog by re-imagining the material as a strongly realised vignette, giving it a specific setting and hinting at a fully characterised cockerel.

His artfulness subtly foreshadows the more fully fleshed stories yet to come (deferred tactics) but the adaption remains broadly conservative and the moralitas (moral; plural moralitates) comes down unreservedly against the cockerel on the grounds that the jewel represents wisdom rather than wealth.

Despite providing the standard "medieval" closure on Aesop's "riddle", most modern critics note the way Henryson nevertheless seems to contrive an effect of dissonance between the fabill and the moralitas.

Longer acquaintance may modify this view, but the impression remains of an opening poem that wants to establish layered modes of narration, introduce complexity and contrive to play with readers' expectations.

In context, Fabill 2 sets a standard for free narrative improvisation, coupled with close control and subtlety of inference, that will be sustained for the remainder of the larger cycle.

Henryson's version condenses the main action, refines the psychology and introduces many variations, such as for instance its feature of three hens, Pertok, Sprutok and Toppok, each with distinctly contrasted characters.

The story picks up where the previous fable left off, as the Cock returns safe and happy to his family (it's still unknown what his wives think about it, though it's hinted that they are relieved he survived at all), but the fox, Lawrence, was starving as he waits until nightfall before his next hunt.

When it gets dark, Lawrence, though he never been to college, had been gifted with knowledge enough to foresee his own future and that of his descendants by astrology, and after seeing the bad omens that align the planets with unfitting constellations, Lawrence comes to realize that unless he or one of his descendants could repent and amend himself or wrongdoings, he and his family (as the fate of all foxes, but worse to compare) will be shamed forever with the "cursed life of a thief", which is said to be so horrible that it orphans each new generation as the last one is sentenced to death for a crime he didn't commit.

Lawrence takes the advice gracefully, but then finds the new practice difficult as he has no net, pole, or boat to fish with properly, and so has to keep swiping at the water and missing his catch.

Schir Lowrence is dead and his carcase disposed of without ceremony in a bog (a peat pot) by his bastard son who relishes the opportunity to ring and raxe intill his (faitheris) steid.

Although Henryson's sixth fabill is not linked to the previous one in direct narrative terms, it is notable that both involve a trial and feature what seem to be, on the surface, contrasting visions of human justice.

The plea that the mouse makes for the lion to temper mercy with justice is a long one (10 stanzas) and invokes important civil, legal and spiritual concepts.

Like Fabill 7 it has a prolog which introduces the narrator directly into the poem, but this time he remains awake and witnesses the story himself (also reporting it himself) as real-time action in the world.

The case is presented to the man (who is both surprised and fearful at the development) suddenly while on the road at dusk and he has considerable difficulty in countering the wolf's claim.

This time, however, the narrator's response in the moralitas (10 stanzas – the longest in the cycle) – is, or seems to be, completely different in terms of sympathies and more impassioned on the theme of social, political and legal injustice.