Part 88

4. The arbour was furnished with seats, which had been newly covered with turf.

5. “Yede” or “yead,” is the old form of go.

6. Sote: fool — French “sot.”

7. See note 59 to The Court of Love

8. Agnus castus: the chaste-tree; a kind of willow.

9. Roundell: French, “rondeau;” a song that comes round again to the verse with which it opened, or that is taken up in turn by each of the singers.

10. In modern French form, “Sous la feuille, devers moi, son et mon joli coeur est endormi” — “Under the foliage, towards me, his and my jolly heart is gone to sleep.”

11. Prester John: The half-mythical Eastern potentate, who is now supposed to have been, not a Christian monarch of Abyssinia, but the head of the Indian empire before Zenghis Khan’s conquest.

12. Oak cerrial: of the species of oak which Pliny, in his “Natural History,” calls “cerrus.”

13. Tartarium: Cloth of Tars, or of Tortona.

14. Bargaret: bergerette, or pastoral song.

15. “Si douce est la margarete.”: “So sweet is the daisy” (“la marguerite”).

16. To make their joustes: the meaning is not very obvious; but in The Knight’s Tale “jousts and array” are in some editions made part of the adornment of the Temple of Venus; and as the word “jousts” would there carry the general meaning of “preparations” to entertain or please a lover, in the present case it may have a similar force.

17. Gramercy: “grand merci,” French; great thanks.

18. The Nine Worthies, who at our day survive in the Seven Champions of Christendom. The Worthies were favourite subjects for representation at popular festivals or in masquerades.

19. The famous Knights of King Arthur, who, being all esteemed equal in valour and noble qualities, sat at a round table, so that none should seem to have precedence over the rest.

20. The twelve peers of Charlemagne (les douze pairs), chief among whom were Roland and Oliver.

21. Chaucer speaks as if, at least for the purposes of his poetry, he believed that Edward III. did not establish a new, but only revived an old, chivalric institution, when be founded the Order of the Garter.

22. Laurer: laurel-tree; French, “laurier.”

23. The meaning is: “Witness the practice of Rome, that was the founder of all knighthood and marvellous deeds; and I refer for corroboration to Titus Livius” — who, in several passages, has mentioned the laurel crown as the highest military honour. For instance, in 1. vii. c. 13, Sextus Tullius, remonstrating for the army against the inaction in which it is kept, tells the Dictator Sulpicius, “Duce te vincere cupimus; tibi lauream insignem deferre; tecum triumphantes urbem inire.” (“Commander, we want you to conquer; to bring you the laurel insignia; to enter the city with you in triumph”)

24. Malebouche: Slander, personified under the title of Evil-mouth — Italian, “Malbocca;” French, “Malebouche.”

25. Under support of them that list it read: the phrase means — trusting to the goodwill of my reader.

26. In press: into a crowd, into the press of competitors for favour; not, it need hardly be said, “into the press” in the modern sense — printing was not invented for a century after this was written.

THE HOUSE OF FAME

GOD turn us ev’ry dream to good! For it is wonder thing, by the Rood,* *Cross <1> To my witte, what causeth swevens,* *dreams Either on morrows or on evens; And why th’effect followeth of some, And of some it shall never come; Why this is an avision And this a revelation; Why this a dream, why that a sweven, And not to ev’ry man *like even;* *alike* Why this a phantom, why these oracles, I n’ot; but whoso of these miracles The causes knoweth bet than I, Divine* he; for I certainly *define *Ne can them not,* nor ever think *do not know them* To busy my wit for to swink* *labour To know of their significance The genders, neither the distance Of times of them, nor the causes For why that this more than that cause is; Or if folke’s complexions Make them dream of reflections; Or elles thus, as others sayn, For too great feebleness of the brain By abstinence, or by sickness, By prison, strife, or great distress, Or elles by disordinance* *derangement Of natural accustomance;* *mode of life That some men be too curious In study, or melancholious, Or thus, so inly full of dread, That no man may them *boote bede;* *afford them relief* Or elles that devotion Of some, and contemplation, Causeth to them such dreames oft; Or that the cruel life unsoft Of them that unkind loves lead, That often hope much or dread, That purely their impressions Cause them to have visions; Or if that spirits have the might To make folk to dream a-night; Or if the soul, of *proper kind,* *its own nature* Be so perfect as men find, That it forewot* what is to come, *foreknows And that it warneth all and some Of ev’reach of their adventures, By visions, or by figures, But that our fleshe hath no might To understanden it aright, For it is warned too darkly; But why the cause is, not wot I. Well worth of this thing greate clerks, <2> That treat of this and other works; For I of none opinion Will as now make mention; But only that the holy Rood Turn us every dream to good. For never since that I was born, Nor no man elles me beforn, Mette,* as I trowe steadfastly, *dreamed So wonderful a dream as I, The tenthe day now of December; The which, as I can it remember, I will you tellen ev’ry deal.* *whit

But at my beginning, truste weel,* *well I will make invocation, With special devotion, Unto the god of Sleep anon, That dwelleth in a cave of stone, <3> Upon a stream that comes from Lete, That is a flood of hell unsweet, Beside a folk men call Cimmerie; There sleepeth ay this god unmerry, With his sleepy thousand sones, That alway for to sleep their won* is; *wont, custom And to this god, that I *of read,* *tell of* Pray I, that he will me speed My sweven for to tell aright, If ev’ry dream stands in his might. And he that Mover is of all That is, and was, and ever shall, So give them joye that it hear, Of alle that they dream to-year;* *this year And for to standen all in grace* *favour Of their loves, or in what place That them were liefest* for to stand, *most desired And shield them from povert’ and shand,* *shame And from ev’ry unhap and disease, And send them all that may them please, That take it well, and scorn it not, Nor it misdeemen* in their thought, *misjudge Through malicious intention; And whoso, through presumption. Or hate, or scorn, or through envy, Despite, or jape,* or villainy, *jesting Misdeem it, pray I Jesus God, That dream he barefoot, dream he shod, That ev’ry harm that any man Hath had since that the world began, Befall him thereof, ere he sterve,* *die And grant that he may it deserve,* *earn, obtain Lo! with such a conclusion As had of his avision Croesus, that was the king of Lyde,<4> That high upon a gibbet died; This prayer shall he have of me; I am *no bet in charity.* *no more charitable*

Now hearken, as I have you said, What that I mette ere I abraid,* *awoke Of December the tenthe day; When it was night to sleep I lay, Right as I was wont for to do’n, And fell asleepe wonder soon, As he that *weary was for go*<5> *was weary from going* On pilgrimage miles two To the corsaint* Leonard, *relics of <6> To make lithe that erst was hard. But, as I slept, me mette I was Within a temple made of glass; In which there were more images Of gold, standing in sundry stages, And more riche tabernacles, And with pierrie* more pinnacles, *gems And more curious portraitures, And *quainte manner* of figures *strange kinds* Of golde work, than I saw ever. But, certainly, I wiste* never *knew Where that it was, but well wist I It was of Venus readily, This temple; for in portraiture I saw anon right her figure Naked floating in a sea, <7> And also on her head, pardie, Her rose garland white and red, And her comb to comb her head, Her doves, and Dan Cupido, Her blinde son, and Vulcano, <8> That in his face was full brown.

As he “roamed up and down,” the dreamer saw on the wall a tablet of brass inscribed with the opening lines of the Aeneid; while the whole story of Aeneas was told in the “portraitures” and gold work. About three hundred and fifty lines are devoted to the description; but they merely embody Virgil’s account of Aeneas’ adventures from the destruction of Troy to his arrival in Italy; and the only characteristic passage is the following reflection, suggested by the death of Dido for her perfidious but fate-compelled guest: