In the _Monkes Tale_ Chaucer draws his stories of the falls of illustrious men from all kinds of sources. The heroes range from Lucifer to Pedro the Cruel, and the worthy monk chooses his illustrations apparently at random, now from sacred history, now from the classics, now from contemporary life. No great dramatic skill is to be expected of the narrator, and for the most part the tragedies succeed one another with placid regularity, the occasional comments made by the monk himself showing no particular insight or intelligence. Having described the fall of Sampson, for instance, no more inspiring reflection occurs to him than That no men telle hir conseil til hir wyves Of swich thing as they wolde han secree fayn, If that it touche hir limmes or hir lyves. One tale, however, stands out conspicuously above the rest. In the _Inferno_ (Canto XXXIII) Dante had told the story of Count Hugo of Pisa, who was locked up in a tower with his sons and starved to death. In a few grim words he describes the father's despair and the slow death of the wretched sons:-- When we came To the fourth day, then Gaddo at my feet Outstretch'd did fling him, crying, "Hast no help For me, my father?" There he died; and e'en Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three Fall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and sixth: Whence I betook me, now grown blind, to grope Over them all, and for three days aloud Call'd on them who were dead. Then, fasting got The mastery of grief. (Carey's translation.) Chaucer takes this and uses it as the basis of one of his tragedies. In Dante the actual story occupies fifty-nine lines, in Chaucer it occupies fifty-six, so in this case there is little in the way either of condensation or expansion. The changes which Chaucer makes are, however, very significant. Dante simply says that the three sons of Count Hugo suffer with their father. Chaucer enhances the pathos by telling us that The eldeste scarsly fyf yeer was of age. Allas, fortune! it was greet crueltee Swiche briddes for to putte in swiche a cage! When Dante's Count Hugo hears ... at its outlet underneath lock'd up The horrible tower ... he is so turned to stone that he can find no relief in tears. Chaucer's cries, "Allas! ... that I was wrought." Therewith the teres fillen from his yën.[70] Chaucer gives us a moving picture of the little three-year-old looking up and asking "Fader, why do ye wepe! Whan wol the gayler bringen our potage, Is ther no morsel breed that ye do kepe? I am so hungry that I may nat slepe ..."