falling in love in the final instance in any degree. When it comes, it occurs with such precipitation as makes it done certainly once for all. A single look is enough. No sooner does Philobene lead Chaucer into "that chamber gay" of Love's Court where Rosiall was, than the— sotell piercing of her eye, Mine herte gan thrill for beauty in the stound, "Alas" (quod I), "who hath me yeve this wound?"-Lines 768-71. But bad as this is, the case of Palamon, in The Knighte's Tale, is almost more suddenly worse. Looking out of his prison in the tower, he catches a glimpse of Emelie walking in the garden; instantly— He blent and cried, a! As though he stongen were unto the herte.-Lines 1079–80. Palamon's companion fares no better. He looks on the same fatal lady— And with a sigh, he saide pitously, The fresshe beautee sleth me sodenly.-Lines 1118-19. The like thing happens to the knight in The Booke of the Dutchesse. No other words than "wounds," "stinging," and "slaying," would do; even these fail to give the whole disaster. For if we go now to the effects of the passion on the male lover, they are awful. The first symptom is thus described in The Court of Love, as felt by Chaucer himself I drede to speake.—Line 771. So with the lover in The Booke of the Dutchesse She wist it nought, Ne tell her durst I not my thought.-Lines 1186-7. The very first effect of the passion, so soon as it becomes actual in a real confronting of the parties, might be described in the male as a glorification of a great new sense of shame, arising from unworthiness. The misery into which the man is plunged is complete; perfect, unmitigated woe is the only account which can be given of the matter. For a male human being to fall in love is instantly to become wretched in a very vague but absolutely undefective way. The calamity is, at the same time, swift and lingering. Within, at most, five minutes of Chaucer's first sight of Rosiall, he describes his state thus : The frosty grave and cold must be my bedde, C. of L., lines 979-81. He so far makes good his statement that, after a little more pleading, he falls in sound and dede as stone, With colour slaine and wanne as asshe pale.-Lines 996-7. However, he recovers. The fuller consequences are given in The Knighte's Tale, when speaking of Arcite : His slepe, his mete, his drinke is him byraft, That lene he wex, and drie as is a shaft, His eyen holwe, and grisly to behold, His hewe falwe, and pale as ashen cold.-Lines 1362-6. A briefer summary occurs in The Romaunt of the Rose- Unto the sore of love's pain.-Lines 2744–5. The account of Arcite, in The Knight's Tale, goes on- This cruel torment, and this peine and wo.--Lines 1383-4. For, again, it must be noted that, no matter how irrespective and general the feeling was in the preliminary stage, no sooner is the allotted person met than it turns into the utmost particularity. Only the special lady who gave the dreadful wound can heal it. The third statute of love's code, as given in The Court of Love, runs Withouten chaunge to live and die the same, None other love to take for wele ne wo, To bidden still in full perseveraunce.-Lines 317--21. In a word, the position held by the woman in this incredible style of love seems at first sight to be one of utter advantage. The Legend of Good Women sadly gives the other aspect of their fortune, but the tragedy arises later than this stage. In these earliest moments the worship to be rendered by the male would be excessive if offered to a goddess. To the woman, merely as such, is ascribed an ideal superiority which is in no way explained; it comes to her naturally, from sex. Her great all-sufficiency of merit is, that she fixes love. Eventually, she is herself involved, but during the preliminary period she is almighty. Not that anything like coquetry is brought into play; her maintenance of reserve is enough. It is not quite easy to say whether this is instigated by a doubt of the continuance of power, or if it arises from a naturally instinctive hesitation of modesty. The woman does not seem to enjoy any intense gratification from her power; only in one case is there rejoicing in the cruelty. In The Complaint of the Black Knight, one of the moanings of that prodigy of sentimentality very rightly is— And most of all I me complaine, That she hath joy to laugh at my paine.-Lines 427-8. But, though that is a wholly exceptional instance, the man must always be abject in his suit to the lady. Not only has he to lose self-possession, he must abandon all self-respect; his humiliation is condemned to sink as low as wretchedness. He has to ask for "mercy;" or rather, as the Black Knight puts it, for "grace, mercie, and pity." grace, mercie, and pity." Troilus, when Creseide visits him- Lo, the alderfirst word that him astart, Was twice, "Mercy, mercy, O, my sweet herte." T. and C., B. III., lines 97-8. Chaucer himself, in The Court of Love, appeals to Rosiall— Ah mercy herte, my lady and my love!-Line 967. Indeed, the whole code of laws set forth in The Court of Love, if a suspicion of intended burlesque were not suggested by the vein of comic humour in some of the statutes, prescribes a manner of behaviour for a male wooer which would be a trifle too humble in a beaten spaniel. Fortunately, for our interest in the heroines, they do not themselves seem to be aware of this unintelligible natural worth in the woman, which makes it a high offence, to be expiated by sighs and dread, for a man to lift his eyes to her. Their bearing is not really that of disdain of s sexual kind. By a mysterious obligatory etiquette of nature, the lady is under a necessity of putting her lover through this torture, but some shrewd reasons of a lower, much plainer kind peep through in places. Chaucer's own Rosiall, after his revival from the fainting fit into which he had fallen "ashen pale," tells him— Now wote I well that ye a lover be, Your hewe is witnesse in this thing.-Lines 1002-3. But how he had to plead before this! And if that I offend, or wilfully By pomp of herte, &c.-Lines 925-6. We have not space for the full citation. But the first reply she gave to it was this: Nay, God forbede to feffe you so with grace, And for a word of sugred eloquence To have compassion in so little space, Then were it time that some of us were hens, Ye shall not find in me such insolence.-C. of L., lines 932-6. The general heightening of the position of the sex in the matter is for no cause to be foregone, and Rosiall jokes him, bidding him "withdraw his eye if it is hurt by her light." A sort of travesty of real motives shows through what follows, hinting the old historic fearfulness of the sex— A woman should beware eke whom she took The guise of court will seen your steadfastnesse -Lines 948–54. This is all the hope she can give him. For she sternly adds And tho ye waxen pale, and grene, and dede, Ye must it use a while withouten drede.-Lines 959-60. It is this waxing pale an 1 green an1 deal which is the real and only test the lady can accept as sufficient. How can it be otherwise when the love is purely sentimental, there being nothing heroic to be done? It hardly needs pointing out that the style of love here is as far as possible removed from chivalry. Actual achievement in some real way for the purpose of showing manly worth is not dreamt of. On the contrary, it is deliberately put aside. In The Booke of the Dutchesse, the asking for feats to be performed is simply ridiculed. One trait in the description of the peerless lady is that She ne used no soch knackes smale.-Line 1030. In place of anything of this sort, a new proof is asked, that of experiencing wretchedness of heart for the lady, without (if we except The Knighte's Tale in The Canterbury Tales) any attempt at action. So soon as the man swoons from the sheer stress of his own feelings, that is enough; but swoon he must. Nearly all Chaucer's heroes faint. The black knight in the poem with that title swoons; so does the other knight in The Booke of the Dutchesse; so does Chaucer himself in The Court of Love; so does the prince in Chaucer's Dream. Creseide There is, indeed, a suggestion that some moral quality, which the women greatly admire, is brought to light by this test of woe. says Ne pompe, array, nobley, or eke richesse, Ne made me to rue on your distresse, T. and C., B. IV., lines 1668-70. But the metaphysical morality is rather high for this light lady. The fact of sufficient distress, however, always tells. The woman is not wholly arbitrary; she is herself under a kind of law in the matter. As we have seen, Rosiall relents when Chaucer swoons; so do all the other heroines. The Queen of the mysterious island seen in Chaucer's Dream, when the Prince who has sailed thither falls into the customary swoon, but apparently does so a little deeper than is usual, is seized by panic. She laments It shall be said it rigour is Whereby my name impayre might.-Lines 559-65. Indeed, it has to be added, that the woman, when the feeling has fully entangled her, can mourn with a giganticness equalling that of the male. Queen Annelida affirms that- Ne nevermore mine eyen two ben drye.-Line 339. Still, if there is this silly, sentimental excess in the passion on both sides, there is not a trace of immorality. This is the specific characteristic of the true Chaucerian erotics. If we except Troilus and Creseide, there is in all these poems outside The Canterbury Tales no wrongdoing whatever. The feeling is left without any practical motive of the ordinary kind. This superfine style of wooing has no necessary reference to marriage; there is not a hint given anywhere of the common family relations; no children are seen in all this world of romance. The connection is rather an affair to be kept secret; that, in fact, is one of the set duties which are prescribed. The second statute of the elaborate code given in The Court of Love runs— Secretly to kepe Councell of love, not blowing everywhere The point is reverted to again-and-again. begins thy signs for to know The eleventh statute With eye and finger, and with smiles soft, The one capital crime is to be an "avaunter." Against that chiefest vice, Pandarus himself piously utters denunciations. excites him that he hotly exclaims The matter so Avauntour and a lier, all is one.-Line 309, B. III. But the aimless, inexplicable morals most pretentiously enforced amidst it all need more fully bringing into view. The original doctrine on which everything rests is, that it is a state of wickedness not to pay service to Love. How queer the thing is will be seen, when we say that Pandarus may be taken as the faith's prophet. This is how he addresses Troilus, in Book I. of Troilus and Creseide : Sith Love of his goodnesse Hath thee converted out of wickednesse.-Lines 999, 1000. The very greatest things are said of Love continually. In The Court of Love this is part of a ritual which is chanted— Love is exiler aye of vice and sinne.-Line 598. At the commncement of The Cuckow and the Nightingale, it is claimed for Love, among many other things, that he "destroyes vice." And later in the same poem, in opposing the cuckoo's ribald version of the matter, the nightingale gives full details thereof truly commeth all goodnesse, All honour, and all gentlenesse.-Lines 151-2.. Nor is it only mere theorising; personal exemplars are given. Even in the queer case of Troilus, the influence works in the following way: his manner tho forth aye So goodly was, and gat him so in grace, That eche him loved that looked in his face, For he became the friendliest wight, |