[This pretty allegory, or rather conceit, containing one or twopassages that for vividness and for delicacy yield to nothing inthe whole range of Chaucer’s poetry, had never been printedbefore the year 1597, when it was included in the edition ofSpeght. Before that date, indeed, a Dream of Chaucer had beenprinted; but the poem so described was in reality “The Book ofthe Duchess; or the Death of Blanche, Duchess of Lancaster” —which is not included in the present edition. Speght says that“This Dream, devised by Chaucer, seemeth to be a covert reportof the marriage of John of Gaunt, the King’s son, with Blanche,the daughter of Henry, Duke of Lancaster; who after long love(during the time whereof the poet feigneth them to be dead)were in the end, by consent of friends, happily married; figuredby a bird bringing in his bill an herb, which restored them to lifeagain. Here also is showed Chaucer’s match with a certaingentlewoman, who, although she was a stranger, was,notwithstanding, so well liked and loved of the Lady Blancheand her Lord, as Chaucer himself also was, that gladly theyconcluded a marriage between them.” John of Gaunt, at the ageof nineteen, and while yet Earl of Richmond, was married to theLady Blanche at Reading in May 1359; Chaucer, then a prisonerin France, probably did not return to England till peace wasconcluded in the following year; so that his marriage to PhilippaRoet, the sister of the Duchess Blanche’s favourite attendantKatharine Roet, could not have taken place till some time afterthat of the Duke. In the poem, it is represented to haveimmediately followed; but no consequence need be attached tothat statement. Enough that it followed at no great interval oftime; and that the intimate relations which Chaucer had alreadybegun to form with John of Gaunt, might well warrant him inwriting this poem on the occasion of the Duke’s marriage, andin weaving his own love-fortunes with those of the principalfigures. In the necessary abridgement of the poem for thepresent edition, the subsidiary branch of the allegory, relating tothe poet’s own love affair, has been so far as possible separatedfrom the main branch, which shadows forth the fortunes of Johnand Blanche. The poem, in full, contains, with an “Envoy”arbitrarily appended, 2233 lines; of which 510 are given here.](Transcriber’s note: modern scholars believe that Chaucer wasnot the author of this poem)
WHEN Flora, the queen of pleasance,Had wholly *achiev’d the obeisance* *won the obedience*Of the fresh and the new season,Thorough ev’ry region;And with her mantle *whole covert* *wholly covered*What winter had *made discovert,* — *stripped*
On a May night, the poet lay alone, thinking of his lady, and allher beauty; and, falling asleep, he dreamed that he was in anisland
Where wall, and gate, was all of glass,And so was closed round about,That leaveless* none came in nor out; *without permissionUncouth and strange to behold;For ev’ry gate, of fine gold,A thousand fanes,* ay turning, *vanes, weathercocksEntuned* had, and birds singing *contrived so as to emitDiversely, on each fane a pair, a musical soundWith open mouth, against the air; <1>And *of a suit* were all the tow’rs, *of the same plan*Subtilly *carven aft* flow’rs *carved to represent*Of uncouth colours, *during ay,* *lasting forever*That never be none seen in May,With many a small turret high;But man alive I could not sigh,* *seeNor creatures, save ladies play,* *disporting themselvesWhich were such of their array,That, as me thought, *of goodlihead* *for comeliness*They passed all, and womanhead.For to behold them dance and sing,It seemed like none earthly thing;
And all were of the same age, save one; who was advanced inyears, though no less gay in demeanour than the rest. While hestood admiring the richness and beauty of the place, and thefairness of the ladies, which had the notable gift of enduringunimpaired till death, the poet was accosted by the old lady, towhom he had to yield himself prisoner; because the ordinance ofthe isle was, that no man should dwell there; and the ladies’ fearof breaking the law was enhanced by the temporary absence oftheir queen from the realm. Just at this moment the cry wasraised that the queen came; all the ladies hastened to meet her;and soon the poet saw her approach — but in her company hismistress, wearing the same garb, and a seemly knight. All theladies wondered greatly at this; and the queen explained:
“My sisters, how it hath befall,* *befallenI trow ye know it one and all,That of long time here have I beenWithin this isle biding as queen,Living at ease, that never wightMore perfect joye have not might;And to you been of governanceSuch as you found in whole pleasance, <2>In every thing as ye know,After our custom and our law;Which how they firste founded were,I trow ye wot all the mannere.And who the queen is of this isle, —As I have been this longe while, —Each seven years must, of usage,Visit the heav’nly hermitage,Which on a rock so highe stands,In a strange sea, out from all lands,That for to make the pilgrimageIs call’d a perilous voyage;For if the wind be not good friend,The journey dureth to the endOf him which that it undertakes;Of twenty thousand not one scapes.Upon which rock groweth a tree,That certain years bears apples three;Which three apples whoso may have,Is *from all displeasance y-save* *safe from all pain*That in the seven years may fall;This wot you well, both one and all.For the first apple and the hext,* *highest <3>Which groweth unto you the next,Hath three virtues notable,And keepeth youth ay durable,Beauty, and looks, ever-in-one,* *continuallyAnd is the best of ev’ry one.The second apple, red and green,Only with lookes of your eyne,You nourishes in great pleasance,Better than partridge or fesaunce,* *pheasantAnd feedeth ev’ry living wightPleasantly, only with the sight.And the third apple of the three,Which groweth lowest on the tree,Whoso it beareth may not fail* *miss, fail to obtainThat* to his pleasance may avail. *that whichSo your pleasure and beauty rich,Your during youth ever y-lich,* *alikeYour truth, your cunning,* and your weal, *knowledgeHath flower’d ay, and your good heal,Without sickness or displeasance,Or thing that to you was noyance.* *offence, injurySo that you have as goddessesLived above all princesses.Now is befall’n, as ye may see;To gather these said apples three,I have not fail’d, against the day,Thitherward to take the way,*Weening to speed* as I had oft. *expecting to succeed*But when I came, I found aloftMy sister, which that hero stands,Having those apples in her hands,Advising* them, and nothing said, *regarding, gazing onBut look’d as she were *well apaid:* *satisfied*And as I stood her to behold,Thinking how my joys were cold,Since I these apples *have not might,* *might not have*Even with that so came this knight,And in his arms, of me unware,Me took, and to his ship me bare,And said, though him I ne’er had seen,Yet had I long his lady been;Wherefore I shoulde with him wend,And he would, to his life’s end,My servant be; and gan to sing,As one that had won a rich thing.Then were my spirits from me gone,So suddenly every one,That in me appear’d but death,For I felt neither life nor breath,Nor good nor harme none I knew,The sudden pain me was so new,That *had not the hasty grace be* *had it not been for theOf this lady, that from the tree prompt kindness*Of her gentleness so bled,* *hastenedMe to comforten, I had died;And of her three apples she oneInto mine hand there put anon,Which brought again my mind and breath,And me recover’d from the death.Wherefore to her so am I hold,* *beholden, obligedThat for her all things do I wo’ld,For she was leach* of all my smart, *physicianAnd from great pain so quit* my heart. *deliveredAnd as God wot, right as ye hear,Me to comfort with friendly cheer,She did her prowess and her might.And truly eke so did this knight,In that he could; and often said,That of my woe he was *ill paid,* *distressed, ill-pleased*And curs’d the ship that him there brought,The mast, the master that it wrought.And, as each thing must have an end,My sister here, our bother friend, <4>Gan with her words so womanlyThis knight entreat, and cunningly,For mine honour and hers also,And said that with her we should goBoth in her ship, where she was brought,Which was so wonderfully wrought,So clean, so rich, and so array’d,That we were both content and paid;* *satisfiedAnd me to comfort and to please,And my heart for to put at ease,She took great pain in little while,And thus hath brought us to this isleAs ye may see; wherefore each oneI pray you thank her one and one,As heartily as ye can devise,Or imagine in any wise.”
At once there then men mighte see’n,A world of ladies fall on kneenBefore my lady, —
Thanking her, and placing themselves at her commandment.Then the queen sent the aged lady to the knight, to learn of himwhy he had done her all this woe; and when the messenger haddischarged her mission, telling the knight that in the generalopinion he had done amiss, he fell down suddenly as if dead forsorrow and repentance. Only with great difficulty, by the queenherself, was he restored to consciousness and comfort; butthough she spoke kind and hope-inspiring words, her heart wasnot in her speech,
For her intent was, to his bargeHim for to bring against the eve,With certain ladies, and take leave,And pray him, of his gentleness,To *suffer her* thenceforth in peace, *let her dwell*As other princes had before;And from thenceforth, for evermore,She would him worship in all wiseThat gentlenesse might devise;And *pain her* wholly to fulfil, *make her utmost efforts*In honour, his pleasure and will.
And during thus this knighte’s woe, —Present* the queen and other mo’, *(there being) present*My lady and many another wight, —Ten thousand shippes at a sightI saw come o’er the wavy flood,With sail and oar; that, as I stoodThem to behold, I gan marvailFrom whom might come so many a sail;For, since the time that I was born,Such a navy therebefornHad I not seen, nor so array’d,That for the sight my hearte play’dAy to and fro within my breast;For joy long was ere it would rest.For there were sailes *full of flow’rs;* *embroidered with flowers*After, castles with huge tow’rs, <5>Seeming full of armes bright,That wond’rous lusty* was the sight; *pleasantWith large tops, and mastes long,Richly depaint’ and *rear’d among.* *raised among them*At certain times gan repairSmalle birdes down from the air,And on the shippes’ bounds* about *bulwarksSat and sang, with voice full out,Ballads and lays right joyously,As they could in their harmony.
The ladies were alarmed and sorrow-stricken at sight of theships, thinking that the knight’s companions were on board; andthey went towards the walls of the isle, to shut the gates. But itwas Cupid who came; and he had already landed, and marchedstraight to the place where the knight lay. Then he chid thequeen for her unkindness to his servant; shot an arrow into herheart; and passed through the crowd, until he found the poet’slady, whom he saluted and complimented, urging her to havepity on him that loved her. While the poet, standing apart, wasrevolving all this in his mind, and resolving truly to serve hislady, he saw the queen advance to Cupid, with a petition inwhich she besought forgiveness of past offences, and promisedcontinual and zealous service till her death. Cupid smiled, andsaid that he would be king within that island, his new conquest;then, after long conference with the queen, he called a councilfor the morrow, of all who chose to wear his colours. In themorning, such was the press of ladies, that scarcely couldstanding-room be found in all the plain. Cupid presided; and oneof his counsellors addressed the mighty crowd, promising thatere his departure his lord should bring to an agreement all theparties there present. Then Cupid gave to the knight and thedreamer each his lady; promised his favour to all the others inthat place who would truly and busily serve in love; and atevening took his departure. Next morning, having declined theproffered sovereignty of the island, the poet’s mistress alsoembarked, leaving him behind; but he dashed through thewaves, was drawn on board her ship from peril of death, andgraciously received into his lady’s lasting favour. Here the poetawakes, finding his cheeks and body all wet with tears; and,removing into another chamber, to rest more in peace, he fallsasleep anew, and continues the dream. Again he is within theisland, where the knight and all the ladies are assembled on agreen, and it is resolved by the assembly, not only that theknight shall be their king, but that every lady there shall bewedded also. It is determined that the knight shall depart thatvery day, and return, within ten days, with such a host ofBenedicts, that none in the isle need lack husbands. The knight
Anon into a little bargeBrought was, late against an eve,Where of all he took his leave.Which barge was, as a man thought,Aft* his pleasure to him brought; *according to*The queen herself accustom’d ayIn the same barge to play.* *take her sportIt needed neither mast nor rother* *rudder(I have not heard of such another),Nor master for the governance;* *steeringIt sailed by thought and pleasance,Withoute labour, east and west;All was one, calm or tempest. <6>And I went with, at his request,And was the first pray’d to the feast.* *the bridal feastWhen he came unto his country,And passed had the wavy sea,In a haven deep and largeHe left his rich and noble barge,And to the court, shortly to tell,He went, where he was wont to dwell, —
And was gladly received as king by the estates of the land; forduring his absence his father, “old, and wise, and hoar,” haddied, commending to their fidelity his absent son. The princerelated to the estates his journey, and his success in finding theprincess in quest of whom he had gone seven years before; andsaid that he must have sixty thousand guests at his marriagefeast. The lords gladly guaranteed the number within the settime; but afterwards they found that fifteen days must be spentin the necessary preparations. Between shame and sorrow, theprince, thus compelled to break his faith, took to his bed, and,in wailing and self-reproach,
— Endur’d the days fifteen,Till that the lords, on an evene,* *eveningHim came and told they ready were,And showed in few wordes there,How and what wise they had *purvey’d *provided suitablyFor his estate,* and to him said, to his rank*That twenty thousand knights of name,And forty thousand without blame,Alle come of noble ligne* *line, lineageTogether in a companyWere lodged on a river’s side,Him and his pleasure there t’abide.The prince then for joy uprose,And, where they lodged were, he goes,Withoute more, that same night,And there his supper *made to dight;* *had prepared*And with them bode* till it was day. *abode, waited*And forthwith to take his journey,Leaving the strait, holding the large,Till he came to his noble barge:And when the prince, this lusty knight,With his people in armes bright,Was come where he thought to pass,* *cross to the isleAnd knew well none abiding wasBehind, but all were there present,Forthwith anon all his intentHe told them there, and made his cries* *proclamationThorough his hoste that day twice,Commanding ev’ry living wightThere being present in his sight,To be the morrow on the rivage,* *shoreThere he begin would his voyage.
The morrow come, the *cry was kept* *proclamation was obeyed*But few were there that night that slept,But *truss’d and purvey’d* for the morrow; *packed up and provided*For fault* of ships was all their sorrow; *lack, shortageFor, save the barge, and other two,Of shippes there I saw no mo’.Thus in their doubtes as they stood,Waxing the sea, coming the flood,Was cried “To ship go ev’ry wight!”Then was but *hie that hie him might,* *whoever could hasten, did*And to the barge, me thought, each oneThey went, without was left not one,Horse, nor male*, truss, nor baggage, *trunk, walletSalad*, spear, gardebrace,** nor page, *helmet<7> **arm-shield<8>But was lodged and room enough;At which shipping me thought I lough,* *laughedAnd gan to marvel in my thought,How ever such a ship was wrought.* *constructedFor *what people that can increase,* *however the numbers increased*Nor ne’er so thick might be the prease,* *press, crowdBut alle hadde room at will;There was not one was lodged ill.For, as I trow, myself the lastWas one, and lodged by the mast;And where I look’d I saw such roomAs all were lodged in a town.Forth went the ship, said was the creed;<9>And on their knees, *for their good speed,* *to pray for success*Down kneeled ev’ry wight a while,And prayed fast that to the isleThey mighte come in safety,The prince and all the company.With worship and withoute blame,Or disclander* of his name, *reproach, slanderOf the promise he should returnWithin the time he did sojournIn his lande biding* his host; *waiting forThis was their prayer least and most:To keep the day it might not be’n,That he appointed with the queen.
Wherefore the prince slept neither day nor night, till he and hispeople landed on the glass-walled isle, “weening to be in heav’nthat night.” But ere they had gone a little way, they met a ladyall in black, with piteous countenance, who reproached theprince for his untruth, and informed him that, unable to bear thereproach to their name, caused by the lightness of their trust instrangers, the queen and all the ladies of the isle had vowedneither to eat, nor drink, nor sleep, nor speak, nor ceaseweeping till all were dead. The queen had died the first; and halfof the other ladies had already “under the earth ta’en lodgingnew.” The woeful recorder of all these woes invites the princeto behold the queen’s hearse:
“Come within, come see her hearseWhere ye shall see the piteous sightThat ever yet was shown to knight;For ye shall see ladies stand,Each with a greate rod in hand,Clad in black, with visage white,Ready each other for to smite,If any be that will not weep;Or who makes countenance to sleep.They be so beat, that all so blueThey be as cloth that dy’d is new.”
Scarcely has the lady ceased to speak, when the prince plucksforth a dagger, plunges it into his heart, and, drawing but onebreath, expires.
For whiche cause the lusty host,Which [stood] in battle on the coast,At once for sorrow such a cryGan rear, thorough* the company, *throughoutThat to the heav’n heard was the soun’,And under th’earth as far adown,And wilde beastes for the fearSo suddenly affrayed* were, *afraidThat for the doubt, while they might dure,* *have a chance of safetyThey ran as of their lives unsure,From the woodes into the plain,And from valleys the high mountainThey sought, and ran as beastes blind,That clean forgotten had their kind.* *nature
The lords of the laggard host ask the woebegone lady whatshould be done; she answers that nothing can now avail, butthat for remembrance they should build in their land, open topublic view, “in some notable old city,” a chapel engraved withsome memorial of the queen. And straightway, with a sigh, shealso “pass’d her breath.”
Then said the lordes of the host,And so concluded least and most,That they would ay in houses of thack* *thatchTheir lives lead, <10> and wear but black,And forsake all their pleasances,And turn all joy to penances;And bare the dead prince to the barge,And named *them should* have the charge; *those who should*And to the hearse where lay the queenThe remnant went, and down on kneen,Holding their hands on high, gan cry,“Mercy! mercy!” *evereach thry;* *each one thrice*And curs’d the time that ever slothShould have such masterdom of troth.And to the barge, a longe mile,They bare her forth; and, in a while,All the ladies, one and one,By companies were brought each one.And pass’d the sea, and took the land,And in new hearses, on a sand,Put and brought were all anon,Unto a city clos’d with stone,Where it had been used ayThe kinges of the land to lay,After they reigned in honours;And writ was which were conquerours;In an abbey of nunnes black,Which accustom’d were to wake,And of usage rise each a-night,To pray for ev’ry living wight.And so befell, as is the guise,Ordain’d and said was the serviceOf the prince and eke of the queen,So devoutly as mighte be’n;And, after that, about the hearses,Many orisons and verses,Withoute note* <11> full softely *musicSaid were, and that full heartily;That all the night, till it was day,The people in the church gan prayUnto the Holy Trinity,Of those soules to have pity.
And when the nighte past and runWas, and the newe day begun, —The young morrow with rayes red,Which from the sun all o’er gan spread,Attemper’d* cleare was and fair, *clement, calmAnd made a time of wholesome air, —Befell a wondrous case* and strange *chance, eventAmong the people, and gan changeSoon the word, and ev’ry woeUnto a joy, and some to two.
A bird, all feather’d blue and green,With brighte rays like gold between,As small thread over ev’ry joint,All full of colour strange and coint,* *quaintUncouth* and wonderful to sight, *unfamiliarUpon the queene’s hearse gan light,And sung full low and softelyThree songes in their harmony,*Unletted of* every wight; *unhindered by*Till at the last an aged knight,Which seem’d a man in greate thought,Like as he set all thing at nought,With visage and eyes all forwept,* *steeped in tearsAnd pale, as a man long unslept,By the hearses as he stood,With hasty handling of his hoodUnto a prince that by him past,Made the bird somewhat aghast.* *frightenedWherefore he rose and left his song,And departed from us among,And spread his winges for to passBy the place where he enter’d was.And in his haste, shortly to tell,Him hurt, that backward down he fell,From a window richly paint,With lives of many a divers saint,And beat his winges and bled fast,And of the hurt thus died and past;And lay there well an hour and moreTill, at the last, of birds a scoreCame and assembled at the placeWhere the window broken was,And made such waimentatioun,* *lamentationThat pity was to hear the soun’,And the warbles of their throats,And the complaint of their notes,Which from joy clean was reversed.And of them one the glass soon pierced,And in his beak, of colours nine,An herb he brought, flow’rless, all green,Full of smalle leaves, and plain,* *smoothSwart,* and long, with many a vein. *blackAnd where his fellow lay thus dead,This herb he down laid by his head,And dressed* it full softely, *arrangedAnd hung his head, and stood thereby.Which herb, in less than half an hour,Gan over all knit,* and after flow’r *budFull out; and waxed ripe the seed;And, right as one another feedWould, in his beak he took the grain,And in his fellow’s beak certainIt put, and thus within the third* *i.e. third hour after itUpstood and pruned him the bird, had diedWhich dead had been in all our sight;And both together forth their flightTook, singing, from us, and their leave;Was none disturb them would nor grieve.And, when they parted were and gone,Th’ abbess the seedes soon each oneGathered had, and in her handThe herb she took, well avisand* *considering <12>The leaf, the seed, the stalk, the flow’r,And said it had a good savour,And was no common herb to find,And well approv’d of *uncouth kind,* *strange nature*And more than other virtuous;Whoso might it have for to useIn his need, flower, leaf, or grain,Of his heal might be certain.[She] laid it down upon the hearseWhere lay the queen; and gan rehearseEach one to other what they had seen.And, *taling thus,* the seed wax’d green, *as they gossiped*And on the dry hearse gan to spring, —Which me thought was a wondrous thing, —And, after that, flow’r and new seed;Of which the people all took heed,And said it was some great miracle,Or medicine fine more than treacle; <12>And were well done there to assayIf it might ease, in any way,The corpses, which with torchelightThey waked had there all that night.Soon did the lordes there consent,And all the people thereto content,With easy words and little fare;* *ado, troubleAnd made the queene’s visage bare,Which showed was to all about,Wherefore in swoon fell all the rout,* *company, crowdAnd were so sorry, most and least,That long of weeping they not ceas’d;For of their lord the remembranceUnto them was such displeasance.* *cause of griefThat for to live they called pain,So were they very true and plain.And after this the good abbessOf the grains gan choose and dress* *prepareThree, with her fingers clean and smale,* *smallAnd in the queenes mouth, by tale,One after other, full easilyShe put, and eke full cunningly.* *skilfullyWhich showed some such virtue.That proved was the medicine true.For with a smiling countenanceThe queen uprose, and of usance* *customAs she was wont, to ev’ry wightShe *made good cheer;* for whiche sight *showed a graciousThe people, kneeling on the stones, countenance*Thought they in heav’n were, soul and bones;And to the prince, where that he lay,They went to make the same assay.* *trial, experimentAnd when the queen it understood,And how the medicine was good,She pray’d that she might have the grains,To relieve him from the painsWhich she and he had both endur’d.And to him went, and so him cur’d,That, within a little space,Lusty and fresh alive he was,And in good heal, and whole of speech,And laugh’d, and said, *“Gramercy, leach!”* *“Great thanks,For which the joy throughout the town my physician!”*So great was, that the belles’ soun’Affray’d the people a journey* *to the distance ofAbout the city ev’ry way; a day’s journey*And came and ask’d the cause, and whyThey rungen were so stately.* *proudly, solemnlyAnd after that the queen, th’abbess,Made diligence, <14> ere they would cease,Such, that of ladies soon a rout* *company, crowdSuing* the queen was all about; *followingAnd, call’d by name each one and told,* *numberedWas none forgotten, young nor old.There mighte men see joyes new,When the medicine, fine and true,Thus restor’d had ev’ry wight,So well the queen as the knight,Unto perfect joy and heal,That *floating they were in such weal* *swimming in suchAs folk that woulden in no wise happiness*Desire more perfect paradise.
On the morrow a general assembly was convoked, and it wasresolved that the wedding feast should be celebrated within theisland. Messengers were sent to strange realms, to invite kings,queens, duchesses, and princesses; and a special embassy wasdespatched, in the magic barge, to seek the poet’s mistress —who was brought back after fourteen days, to the great joy ofthe queen. Next day took place the wedding of the prince andall the knights to the queen and all the ladies; and a threemonths’ feast followed, on a large plain “under a wood, in achampaign, betwixt a river and a well, where never had abbeynor cell been, nor church, house, nor village, in time of anymanne’s age.” On the day after the general wedding, allentreated the poet’s lady to consent to crown his love withmarriage; she yielded; the bridal was splendidly celebrated; andto the sound of marvellous music the poet awoke, to findneither lady nor creature — but only old portraitures on thetapestry, of horsemen, hawks, and hounds, and hurt deer full ofwounds. Great was his grief that he had lost all the bliss of hisdream; and he concludes by praying his lady so to accept hislove-service, that the dream may turn to reality.
Or elles, without more I pray,That this night, ere it be day,I may unto my dream return,And sleeping so forth ay sojournAboute the Isle of Pleasance,*Under my lady’s obeisance,* *subject to my lady*In her service, and in such wise,As it may please her to devise;And grace once to be accept’,Like as I dreamed when I slept,And dure a thousand year and tenIn her good will: Amen, amen!
Notes to Chaucer’s Dream
1. The birds on the weathervanes were set up facing the wind,so that it entered their open mouths, and by some mechanismproduced the musical sound.
2. “And to you been of governanceSuch as you found in whole pleasance”That is, “and have governed you in a manner which you havefound wholly pleasant.”
3. Hext: highest; from “high,” as “next” from “nigh.” Comparethe sounds of the German, “hoechst,” highest, and “naechst,”next.
4. “Your brother friend,” is the common reading; but the phrasehas no apparent applicability; and perhaps the better reading is“our bother friend” — that is, the lady who has proved herself afriend both to me and to you. In the same way, Reason, inTroilus’ soliloquy on the impending loss of his mistress, is made,addressing Troilus and Cressida, to speaks of “your bother,” or“bothe,” love.
5. The ships had high embattled poops and forecastles, as inmediaeval ships of war.
6. Compare Spenser’s account of Phaedria’s barque, in “TheFaerie Queen,” canto vi. book ii.; and, mutatis mutandis,Chaucer’s description of the wondrous horse, in The Squire’sTale.
- Salad: a small helmet; french, “salade.”
8. Gardebrace: French, “garde-bras,” an arm-shield; probablyresembling the “gay bracer” which the Yeoman, in the Prologueto The Canterbury Tales, wears on his arm.
9. Confession and prayer were the usual preliminaries of anyenterprise in those superstitious days; and in these days ofenlightenment the fashion yet lingers among the mostsuperstitious class — the fisher-folk.
10. The knights resolved that they would quit their castles andhouses of stone for humble huts.
11. The knight and lady were buried without music, althoughthe office for the dead was generally sung.
12. Avisand: considering; present participle from “avise” or“advise.”
13. Treacle; corrupted from Latin, “therisca,” an antidote. Theword is used for medicine in general.
14. The abbess made diligence: i.e. to administer the grain tothe dead ladies.