One of the pilgrims was a Dyer, but Chaucer tells us nothing about him,
the Tales being incomplete. Time after time the company had pressed this
individual to produce a puzzle of some kind, but without effect. The poor
fellow tried his best to follow the examples of his friends the Tapiser,
the Weaver, and the Haberdasher; but the necessary idea would not come,
rack his brains as he would. All things, however, come to those who
wait--and persevere--and one morning he announced, in a state of
considerable excitement, that he had a poser to set before them. He
brought out a square piece of silk on which were embroidered a number of
fleurs-de-lys in rows, as shown in our illustration.
"Lordings," said the Dyer, "hearken anon unto my riddle. Since I was
awakened at dawn by the crowing of cocks--for which din may our host
never thrive--I have sought an answer thereto, but by St. Bernard I have
found it not. There be sixty-and-four flowers-de-luce, and the riddle is
to show how I may remove six of these so that there may yet be an even
number of the flowers in every row and every column."
[Illustration]
The Dyer was abashed when every one of the company showed without any
difficulty whatever, and each in a different way, how this might be done.
But the good Clerk of Oxenford was seen to whisper something to the Dyer,
who added, "Hold, my masters! What I have said is not all. Ye must find
in how many different ways it may be done!" All agreed that this was
quite another matter. And only a few of the company got the right answer.