What happens in Chapter 17 of The Canterbury Tales?
The Second Nun begins with a Prologue that criticizes idleness as a path to sin, followed by a reflection on the name "Cecilia" before diving into the story of the saint. Cecilia, a devoted Christian noblewoman, marries Valerian but informs him on their wedding night that she is protected by an angel who will punish anyone who tries to touch her inappropriately. She sends Valerian to the Appian Way to meet Pope Urban, who baptizes him. When Valerian returns, he is transformed, and both he and his brother Tiburce receive visions of the angel with crowns of lilies and roses. The Roman prefect Almachius arrests the brothers for refusing to sacrifice to idols, and they are executed by the officer Maximus, who converts and is later beaten to death. Almachius then calls for Cecilia, who challenges his authority with sharp arguments. Condemned to be suffocated in her own bath, she remains unharmed for three days. Three strikes of a sword fail to behead her; she lingers for three days, giving away her possessions and converting her household, before passing away. Pope Urban secretly buries her and designates her home as a church.
Analysis
Chaucer's choice to place this tale where he does is subtly significant: the Second Nun, representing institutional female religious life, tells the one story in the collection that clearly honors female spiritual authority. The Prologue’s critique of idleness ("that porter of the gate") also serves as a meta-fictional rationale for storytelling, linking narration to virtuous work—a rare instance of self-reflective poetics within a hagiographic context.
The detailed exploration of the name "Cecilia" is a medieval technique that Chaucer takes directly from Jacobus de Voragine's Legenda Aurea, yet it transforms language into something sacred: names become theological claims. This sets the stage for Cecilia’s rhetorical dismantling of Almachius, as she skillfully turns each question back on him, showcasing a dialectical sharpness that makes the prefect appear foolish rather than threatening.
The tale is structured around triads: three days of survival in the bath, three sword strikes, and three days of dying ministry. This number not only points to Trinitarian theology but also suggests narrative inevitability, imbuing the martyrdom with the quality of liturgy instead of drama. Chaucer’s verse here is notably straightforward—using octosyllabic-adjacent rhyme royal devoid of irony—and this tonal flatness is a deliberate choice, eschewing the psychological depth seen in, for example, the Wife of Bath's Prologue. Cecilia is portrayed not as a character to be analyzed but as an image to be revered, and the style maintains that distance with a cool, almost impersonal clarity.
Key quotes from Chapter 17
“And right so as thise philosophres write / That hevene is swift and round and eek brennynge, / Right so was faire Cecilie the white / Ful swift and bisy evere in good werkynge.”
The Second Nun compares Cecilia to the heavens in her Prologue, establishing the saint's ceaseless virtue as a cosmological rather than merely personal quality.
“I have an aungel which that loveth me, / That with greet love, wher so I wake or sleepe, / Is redy ay my body for to kepe.”
Cecilia discloses her angelic guardian to Valerian on their wedding night, reframing the marriage bed as sacred rather than erotic space.
“Youre myght, quod she, ful litel is to dreede, / For every mortal mannes power nys / But lyk a bladdre ful of wynd, ywys.”
Cecilia answers Almachius's threats with this deflating simile, reducing imperial authority to a puff of air in one of the tale's sharpest rhetorical moments.