Chapter 54

Then spake one bird for all, by one assent: “This matter asketh good advisement; For we be fewe birdes here in fere, And sooth it is, the cuckoo is not here, And therefore we will have a parlement.

“And thereat shall the eagle be our lord, And other peers that been *of record,* *of established authority* And the cuckoo shall be *after sent;* *summoned There shall be given the judgment, Or else we shall finally *make accord.* *be reconciled*

“And this shall be, withoute nay,* *contradiction The morrow after Saint Valentine’s Day, Under a maple that is fair and green, Before the chamber window of the Queen, <7> At Woodstock upon the green lay.”* *lawn

She thanked them, and then her leave took, And into a hawthorn by that brook, And there she sat and sang upon that tree, *“Term of life love hath withhold me;”* *love hath me in her So loude, that I with that song awoke. service all my life*

Explicit.* *The End

The Author to His Book.

O LEWD book! with thy foul rudeness, Since thou hast neither beauty nor eloquence, Who hath thee caus’d or giv’n the hardiness For to appear in my lady’s presence? I am full sicker* thou know’st her benevolence, *certain Full agreeable to all her abying,* *merit For of all good she is the best living.

Alas! that thou ne haddest worthiness, To show to her some pleasant sentence, Since that she hath, thorough her gentleness, Accepted thee servant to her dign reverence! O! me repenteth that I n’had science, And leisure als’, t’make thee more flourishing, For of all good she is the best living.

Beseech her meekly with all lowliness, Though I be ferre* from her in absence, *far To think on my truth to her and steadfastness, And to abridge of my sorrows the violence, Which caused is whereof knoweth your sapience;* *wisdom She like among to notify me her liking, For of all good she is the best living.

Explicit.

L’Envoy; To the Author’s Lady.

Aurore of gladness, day of lustiness, Lucern* at night with heav’nly influence *lamp Illumin’d, root of beauty and goodness, Suspires* which I effund** in silence! *sighs **pour forth Of grace I beseech, allege* let your writing *declare Now of all good, since ye be best living.

Explicit.

Notes to the Cuckoo and the Nightingale

1. These two lines occur also in The Knight’s Tale; they commence the speech of Theseus on the love follies of Palamon and Arcite, whom the Duke has just found fighting in the forest.

2. A stronger reading is “all.”

3. “Ocy, ocy,” is supposed to come from the Latin “occidere,” to kill; or rather the old French, “occire,” “occis,” denoting the doom which the nightingale imprecates or supplicates on all who do offence to Love.

4. Grede: cry; Italian, “grido.”

5.”But if he be away therewith, y-wis, He may full soon of age have his hair”: Unless he be always fortunate in love pursuits, he may full soon have gray hair, through his anxieties.

6. It was of evil omen to hear the cuckoo before the nightingale or any other bird.

7. The Queen: Philippa of Hainault, wife of Edward III.

THE ASSEMBLY OF FOWLS.

[In “The Assembly of Fowls” — which Chaucer’s “Retractation” describes as “The Book of Saint Valentine’s Day, or of the Parliament of Birds” — we are presented with a picture of the mediaeval “Court of Love” far closer to the reality than we find in Chaucer’s poem which bears that express title. We have a regularly constituted conclave or tribunal, under a president whose decisions are final. A difficult question is proposed for the consideration and judgment of the Court — the disputants advancing and vindicating their claims in person. The attendants upon the Court, through specially chosen mouthpieces, deliver their opinions on the cause; and finally a decision is authoritatively pronounced by the president — which, as in many of the cases actually judged before the Courts of Love in France, places the reasonable and modest wish of a sensitive and chaste lady above all the eagerness of her lovers, all the incongruous counsels of representative courtiers. So far, therefore, as the poem reproduces the characteristic features of procedure in those romantic Middle Age halls of amatory justice, Chaucer’s “Assembly of Fowls” is his real “Court of Love;” for although, in the castle and among the courtiers of Admetus and Alcestis, we have all the personages and machinery necessary for one of those erotic contentions, in the present poem we see the personages and the machinery actually at work, upon another scene and under other guises. The allegory which makes the contention arise out of the loves, and proceed in the assembly, of the feathered race, is quite in keeping with the fanciful yet nature-loving spirit of the poetry of Chaucer’s time, in which the influence of the Troubadours was still largely present. It is quite in keeping, also, with the principles that regulated the Courts, the purpose of which was more to discuss and determine the proper conduct of love affairs, than to secure conviction or acquittal, sanction or reprobation, in particular cases — though the jurisdiction and the judgments of such assemblies often closely concerned individuals. Chaucer introduces us to his main theme through the vestibule of a fancied dream — a method which be repeatedly employs with great relish, as for instance in “The House of Fame.” He has spent the whole day over Cicero’s account of the Dream of Scipio (Africanus the Younger); and, having gone to bed, he dreams that Africanus the Elder appears to him — just as in the book he appeared to his namesake — and carries him into a beautiful park, in which is a fair garden by a river-side. Here the poet is led into a splendid temple, through a crowd of courtiers allegorically representing the various instruments, pleasures, emotions, and encouragements of Love; and in the temple Venus herself is found, sporting with her porter Richess. Returning into the garden, he sees the Goddess of Nature seated on a hill of flowers; and before her are assembled all the birds — for it is Saint Valentine’s Day, when every fowl chooses her mate. Having with a graphic touch enumerated and described the principal birds, the poet sees that on her hand Nature bears a female eagle of surpassing loveliness and virtue, for which three male eagles advance contending claims. The disputation lasts all day; and at evening the assembled birds, eager to be gone with their mates, clamour for a decision. The tercelet, the goose, the cuckoo, and the turtle — for birds of prey, water-fowl, worm-fowl, and seed-fowl respectively — pronounce their verdicts on the dispute, in speeches full of character and humour; but Nature refers the decision between the three claimants to the female eagle herself, who prays that she may have a year’s respite. Nature grants the prayer, pronounces judgment accordingly, and dismisses the assembly; and after a chosen choir has sung a roundel in honour of the Goddess, all the birds fly away, and the poet awakes. It is probable that Chaucer derived the idea of the poem from a French source; Mr Bell gives the outline of a fabliau, of which three versions existed, and in which a contention between two ladies regarding the merits of their respective lovers, a knight and a clerk, is decided by Cupid in a Court composed of birds, which assume their sides according to their different natures. Whatever the source of the idea, its management, and the whole workmanship of the poem, especially in the more humorous passages, are essentially Chaucer’s own.]

THE life so short, the craft so long to learn, Th’assay so hard, so sharp the conquering, The dreadful joy, alway that *flits so yern;* *fleets so fast* All this mean I by* Love, that my feeling *with reference to Astoneth* with his wonderful working, *amazes So sore, y-wis, that, when I on him think, Naught wit I well whether I fleet* or sink, *float

For *all be* that I know not Love indeed, *albeit, although* Nor wot how that he *quiteth folk their hire,* *rewards folk for Yet happeth me full oft in books to read their service* Of his miracles, and of his cruel ire; There read I well, he will be lord and sire; I dare not saye, that his strokes be sore; But God save such a lord! I can no more.

Of usage, what for lust and what for lore, On bookes read I oft, as I you told. But wherefore speak I alle this? Not yore Agone, it happed me for to behold Upon a book written with letters old; And thereupon, a certain thing to learn, The longe day full fast I read and yern.* *eagerly

For out of the old fieldes, as men saith, Cometh all this new corn, from year to year; And out of olde bookes, in good faith, Cometh all this new science that men lear.* *learn But now to purpose as of this mattere: To reade forth it gan me so delight, That all the day me thought it but a lite.* *little while

This book, of which I make mention, Entitled was right thus, as I shall tell; “Tullius, of the Dream of Scipion:” <1> Chapters seven it had, of heav’n, and hell, And earth, and soules that therein do dwell; Of which, as shortly as I can it treat, Of his sentence I will you say the great.* *important part

First telleth it, when Scipio was come To Africa, how he met Massinisse, That him for joy in armes hath y-nome.* *taken <2> Then telleth he their speech, and all the bliss That was between them till the day gan miss.* *fail And how his ancestor Africane so dear Gan in his sleep that night to him appear.

Then telleth it, that from a starry place How Africane hath him Carthage y-shew’d, And warned him before of all his grace, <3> And said him, what man, learned either lewd,* *ignorant That loveth *common profit,* well y-thew’d, *the public advantage* He should unto a blissful place wend,* *go Where as the joy is without any end.

Then asked he,* if folk that here be dead *i.e. the younger Scipio Have life, and dwelling, in another place? And Africane said, “Yea, withoute dread;”* *doubt And how our present worldly lives’ space Meant but a manner death, <4> what way we trace; And rightful folk should go, after they die, To Heav’n; and showed him the galaxy.

Then show’d he him the little earth that here is, *To regard* the heaven’s quantity; *by comparison with And after show’d he him the nine spheres; <5> And after that the melody heard he, That cometh of those spheres thrice three, That wells of music be and melody In this world here, and cause of harmony.

Then said he him, since earthe was so lite,* *small And full of torment and of *harde grace,* *evil fortune That he should not him in this world delight. Then told he him, in certain yeares’ space, That ev’ry star should come into his place, Where it was first; and all should *out of mind,* *perish from memory* That in this world is done of all mankind.

Then pray’d him Scipio, to tell him all The way to come into that Heaven’s bliss; And he said: “First know thyself immortal, And look aye busily that thou work and wiss* *guide affairs To common profit, and thou shalt not miss To come swiftly unto that place dear, That full of bliss is, and of soules clear.* *noble <6>

“And breakers of the law, the sooth to sayn, And likerous* folk, after that they be dead, *lecherous Shall whirl about the world always in pain, Till many a world be passed, *out of dread;* *without doubt* And then, forgiven all their wicked deed, They shalle come unto that blissful place, To which to come God thee sende grace!”

The day gan failen, and the darke night, That reaveth* beastes from their business, *taketh away Berefte me my book for lack of light, And to my bed I gan me for to dress,* *prepare Full fill’d of thought and busy heaviness; For both I hadde thing which that I n’old,* *would not And eke I had not that thing that I wo’ld.

But, finally, my spirit at the last, Forweary* of my labour all that day, *utterly wearied Took rest, that made me to sleepe fast; And in my sleep I mette,* as that I say, *dreamed How Africane, right in the *self array* *same garb* That Scipio him saw before that tide,* *time Was come, and stood right at my bedde’s side.

The weary hunter, sleeping in his bed, To wood again his mind goeth anon; The judge dreameth how his pleas be sped; The carter dreameth how his cartes go’n; The rich of gold, the knight fights with his fone;* *foes The sicke mette he drinketh of the tun; <7> The lover mette he hath his lady won.

I cannot say, if that the cause were, For* I had read of Africane beforn, *because That made me to mette that he stood there; But thus said he; “Thou hast thee so well borne In looking of mine old book all to-torn, Of which Macrobius *raught not a lite,* *recked not a little* That *somedeal of thy labour would I quite.”* *I would reward you for some of your labour* Cytherea, thou blissful Lady sweet! That with thy firebrand dauntest *when thee lest,* *when you please* That madest me this sweven* for to mette, *dream Be thou my help in this, for thou may’st best! As wisly* as I saw the north-north-west, <8> *surely When I began my sweven for to write, So give me might to rhyme it and endite.* *write down

This foresaid Africane me hent* anon, *took And forth with him unto a gate brought Right of a park, walled with greene stone; And o’er the gate, with letters large y-wrought, There were verses written, as me thought, On either half, of full great difference, Of which I shall you say the plain sentence.* *meaning

“Through me men go into the blissful place <9> Of hearte’s heal and deadly woundes’ cure; Through me men go unto the well of grace; Where green and lusty May shall ever dure; This is the way to all good adventure; Be glad, thou reader, and thy sorrow off cast; All open am I; pass in and speed thee fast.”

“Through me men go,” thus spake the other side, “Unto the mortal strokes of the spear, Of which disdain and danger is the guide; There never tree shall fruit nor leaves bear; This stream you leadeth to the sorrowful weir, Where as the fish in prison is all dry; <10> Th’eschewing is the only remedy.”

These verses of gold and azure written were, On which I gan astonish’d to behold; For with that one increased all my fear, And with that other gan my heart to bold;* *take courage That one me het,* that other did me cold; *heated No wit had I, for error,* for to choose *perplexity, confusion To enter or fly, or me to save or lose.

Right as betwixten adamantes* two *magnets Of even weight, a piece of iron set, Ne hath no might to move to nor fro; For what the one may hale,* the other let;** *attract **restrain So far’d I, that *n’ist whether me was bet* *knew not whether it was T’ enter or leave, till Africane, my guide, better for me* Me hent* and shov’d in at the gates wide. *caught

And said, “It standeth written in thy face, Thine error,* though thou tell it not to me; *perplexity, confusion But dread thou not to come into this place; For this writing *is nothing meant by* thee, *does not refer to* Nor by none, but* he Love’s servant be; *unless For thou of Love hast lost thy taste, I guess, As sick man hath of sweet and bitterness.

“But natheless, although that thou be dull, That thou canst not do, yet thou mayest see; For many a man that may not stand a pull, Yet likes it him at wrestling for to be, And deeme* whether he doth bet,** or he; *judge **better And, if thou haddest cunning* to endite, *skill I shall thee showe matter *of to write.”* *to write about*

With that my hand in his he took anon, Of which I comfort caught,* and went in fast. *took But, Lord! so I was glad and well-begone!* *fortunate For *over all,* where I my eyen cast, *everywhere* Were trees y-clad with leaves that ay shall last, Each in his kind, with colour fresh and green As emerald, that joy it was to see’n.

The builder oak; and eke the hardy ash; The pillar elm, the coffer unto carrain; The box, pipe tree; the holm, to whippe’s lash The sailing fir; the cypress death to plain; The shooter yew; the aspe for shaftes plain; Th’olive of peace, and eke the drunken vine; The victor palm; the laurel, too, divine. <11>

A garden saw I, full of blossom’d boughes, Upon a river, in a greene mead, Where as sweetness evermore enow is, With flowers white, blue, yellow, and red, And colde welle* streames, nothing dead, *fountain That swamme full of smalle fishes light, With finnes red, and scales silver bright.

On ev’ry bough the birdes heard I sing, With voice of angels in their harmony, That busied them their birdes forth to bring; The pretty conies* to their play gan hie; *rabbits **haste And further all about I gan espy The dreadful* roe, the buck, the hart, and hind, *timid Squirrels, and beastes small, of gentle kind.* *nature

Of instruments of stringes in accord Heard I so play a ravishing sweetness, That God, that Maker is of all and Lord, Ne hearde never better, as I guess: Therewith a wind, unneth* it might be less, *scarcely Made in the leaves green a noise soft, Accordant* the fowles’ song on loft.** *in keeping with **above

Th’air of the place so attemper* was, *mild That ne’er was there grievance* of hot nor cold; *annoyance There was eke ev’ry wholesome spice and grass, Nor no man may there waxe sick nor old: Yet* was there more joy a thousand fold *moreover Than I can tell, or ever could or might; There ever is clear day, and never night.

Under a tree, beside a well, I sey* *saw Cupid our lord his arrows forge and file;* *polish And at his feet his bow all ready lay; And well his daughter temper’d, all the while, The heades in the well; and with her wile* *cleverness She couch’d* them after, as they shoulde serve *arranged in order Some for to slay, and some to wound and kerve.* *carve, cut

Then was I ware of Pleasance anon right, And of Array, and Lust, and Courtesy, And of the Craft, that can and hath the might To do* by force a wight to do folly; *make Disfigured* was she, I will not lie; *disguised And by himself, under an oak, I guess, Saw I Delight, that stood with Gentleness.

Then saw I Beauty, with a nice attire, And Youthe, full of game and jollity, Foolhardiness, Flattery, and Desire, Messagerie, and Meed, and other three; <12> Their names shall not here be told for me: And upon pillars great of jasper long I saw a temple of brass y-founded strong.

And [all] about the temple danc’d alway Women enough, of whiche some there were Fair of themselves, and some of them were gay In kirtles* all dishevell’d went they there; *tunics That was their office* ever, from year to year; *duty, occupation And on the temple saw I, white and fair, Of doves sitting many a thousand pair. <13>

Before the temple door, full soberly, Dame Peace sat, a curtain in her hand; And her beside, wonder discreetely, Dame Patience sitting there I fand,* *found With face pale, upon a hill of sand; And althernext, within and eke without, Behest,* and Art, and of their folk a rout.** *Promise **crowd

Within the temple, of sighes hot as fire I heard a swough,* that gan aboute ren,** *murmur **run Which sighes were engender’d with desire, That made every hearte for to bren* *burn Of newe flame; and well espied I then, That all the cause of sorrows that they dree* *endure Came of the bitter goddess Jealousy.

The God Priapus <14> saw I, as I went Within the temple, in sov’reign place stand, In such array, as when the ass him shent* <15> *ruined With cry by night, and with sceptre in hand: Full busily men gan assay and fand* *endeavour Upon his head to set, of sundry hue, Garlandes full of freshe flowers new.

And in a privy corner, in disport, Found I Venus and her porter Richess, That was full noble and hautain* of her port; *haughty <16> Dark was that place, but afterward lightness I saw a little, unneth* it might be less; *scarcely And on a bed of gold she lay to rest, Till that the hote sun began to west.* *decline towards the wesr

Her gilded haires with a golden thread Y-bounden were, untressed,* as she lay; *loose And naked from the breast unto the head Men might her see; and, soothly for to say, The remnant cover’d, welle to my pay,* *satisfaction <17> Right with a little kerchief of Valence;<18> There was no thicker clothe of defence.

The place gave a thousand savours swoot;* *sweet And Bacchus, god of wine, sat her beside; And Ceres next, that *doth of hunger boot;*<19> *relieves hunger* And, as I said, amiddes* lay Cypride, <20> *in the midst To whom on knees the younge folke cried To be their help: but thus I let her lie, And farther in the temple gan espy,

That, in despite of Diana the chaste, Full many a bowe broke hung on the wall, Of maidens, such as go their time to waste In her service: and painted over all Of many a story, of which I touche shall A few, as of Calist’, and Atalant’, And many a maid, of which the name I want.* *do not have

Semiramis, Canace, and Hercules, Biblis, Dido, Thisbe and Pyramus, Tristram, Isoude, Paris, and Achilles, Helena, Cleopatra, Troilus, Scylla, and eke the mother of Romulus; All these were painted on the other side, And all their love, and in what plight they died.

When I was come again into the place That I of spake, that was so sweet and green, Forth walk’d I then, myselfe to solace: Then was I ware where there sat a queen, That, as of light the summer Sunne sheen Passeth the star, right so *over measure* *out of all proportion* She fairer was than any creature.

And in a lawn, upon a hill of flowers, Was set this noble goddess of Nature; Of branches were her halles and her bowers Y-wrought, after her craft and her measure; Nor was there fowl that comes of engendrure That there ne were prest,* in her presence, *ready <22> To *take her doom,* and give her audience. *receive her decision*