The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems

“The Court Of Love” was probably Chaucer’s first poem of any consequence. It is believed to have been written at the age, and under the circumstances, of which it contains express mention; that is, when the poet was eighteen years old, and resided as a student at Cambridge, — about the year 1346. The composition is marked by an elegance, care, and finish very different from the bold freedom which in so great measure distinguishes the Canterbury Tales; and the fact is easily explained when we remember that, in the earlier poem, Chaucer followed a beaten path, in which he had many predecessors and competitors, all seeking to sound the praises of love with the grace, the ingenuity, and studious devotion, appropriate to the theme. The story of the poem is exceedingly simple. Under the name of Philogenet, a clerk or scholar of Cambridge, the poet relates that, summoned by Mercury to the Court of Love, he journeys to the splendid castle where the King and Queen of Love, Admetus and Alcestis, keep their state. Discovering among the courtiers a friend named Philobone, a chamberwoman to the Queen, Philogenet is led by her into a circular temple, where, in a tabernacle, sits Venus, with Cupid by her side. While he is surveying the motley crowd of suitors to the goddess, Philogenet is summoned back into the King’s presence, chidden for his tardiness in coming to Court, and commanded to swear observance to the twenty Statutes of Love — which are recited at length.

Philogenet then makes his prayers and vows to Venus, desiring that he may have for his love a lady whom he has seen in a dream; and Philobone introduces him to the lady herself, named Rosial, to whom he does suit and service of love. At first the lady is obdurate to his entreaties; but, Philogenet having proved the sincerity of his passion by a fainting fit, Rosial relents, promises her favour, and orders Philobone to conduct him round the Court. The courtiers are then minutely described; but the description is broken off abruptly, and we are introduced to Rosial in the midst of a confession of her love. Finally she commands Philogenet to abide with her until the First of May, when the King of Love will hold high festival; he obeys; and the poem closes with the May Day festival service, celebrated by a choir of birds, who sing an ingenious, but what must have seemed in those days a more than slightly profane, paraphrase or parody of the matins for Trinity Sunday, to the praise of Cupid. From this outline, it will be seen at once that Chaucer’s “Court of Love” is in important particulars different from the institutions which, in the two centuries preceding his own, had so much occupied the attention of poets and gallants, and so powerfully controlled the social life of the noble and refined classes.

It is a regal, not a legal, Court which the poet pictures to us; we are not introduced to a regularly constituted and authoritative tribunal in which nice questions of conduct in the relations of lovers are discussed and decided — but to the central and sovereign seat of Love’s authority, where the statutes are moulded, and the decrees are issued, upon which the inferior and special tribunals we have mentioned frame their proceedings. The “Courts of Love,” in Chaucer’s time, had lost none of the prestige and influence which had been conferred upon them by the patronage and participation of Kings, Queens, Emperors, and Popes. But the institution, in its legal or judicial character, was peculiar to France; and although the whole spirit of Chaucer’s poem, especially as regards the esteem and reverence in which women were held, is that which animated the French Courts, his treatment of the subject is broader and more general, consequently more fitted to enlist the interest of English readers. (Transcriber’s note: Modern scholars believe that Chaucer was not the author of this poem)

With timorous heart, and trembling hand of dread, Of cunning* naked, bare of eloquence, *skill Unto the *flow’r of port in womanhead* *one who is the perfection I write, as he that none intelligence of womanly behaviour* Of metres hath, <1> nor flowers of sentence, Save that me list my writing to convey, In that I can, to please her high nobley.* *nobleness

The blossoms fresh of Tullius’* garden swoot** *Cicero **sweet Present they not, my matter for to born:* <2> *burnish, polish Poems of Virgil take here no root, Nor craft of Galfrid <3> may not here sojourn; Why *n’am I* cunning? O well may I mourn, *am I not* For lack of science, that I cannot write Unto the princess of my life aright!

No terms are dign* unto her excellence, *worthy So is she sprung of noble stirp* and high; *stock <4> A world of honour and of reverence There is in her, this will I testify. Calliope, <5> thou sister wise and sly,* *skilful And thou, Minerva, guide me with thy grace, That language rude my matter not deface!

Thy sugar droppes sweet of Helicon Distil in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray; And thee, Melpomene, <6> I call anon Of ignorance the mist to chase away; And give me grace so for to write and say, That she, my lady, of her worthiness, Accept *in gree* this little short treatess,* *with favour* *treatise

That is entitled thus, The Court of Love. And ye that be metricians,* me excuse, *skilled versifiers I you beseech, for Venus’ sake above; For what I mean in this ye need not muse: And if so be my lady it refuse For lack of ornate speech, I would be woe That I presume to her to write so.

But my intent, and all my busy cure,* *care Is for to write this treatise, as I can, Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure, Faithful and kind, since first that she began Me to accept in service as her man; To her be all the pleasure of this book, That, when *her like,* she may it read and look. *it pleases her*

Then — says the poet — did Love urge him to do him obeisance, and to go “the Court of Love to see, a lite [little] beside the Mount of Citharee.” <8> Mercury bade him, on pain of death, to appear; and he went by strange and far countries in search of the Court. Seeing at last a crowd of people, “as bees,” making their way thither, the poet asked whither they went; and “one that answer’d like a maid” said that they were bound to the Court of Love, at Citheron, where “the King of Love, and all his noble rout [company],

“Dwelleth within a castle royally.” So them apace I journey’d forth among, And as he said, so found I there truly; For I beheld the town — so high and strong, And high pinnacles, large of height and long, With plate of gold bespread on ev’ry side, And precious stones, the stone work for to hide.

No sapphire of Ind, no ruby rich of price, There lacked then, nor emerald so green, Balais, Turkeis, <9> nor thing, *to my devise,* *in my judgement* That may the castle make for to sheen;* *be beautiful All was as bright as stars in winter be’n; And Phoebus shone, to make his peace again, For trespass* done to high estates twain, — *offence

When he had found Venus in the arms of Mars, and hastened to tell Vulcan of his wife’s infidelity <10>. Now he was shining brightly on the castle, “in sign he looked after Love’s grace;” for there is no god in Heaven or in Hell “but he hath been right subject unto Love.” Continuing his description of the castle, Philogenet says that he saw never any so large and high; within and without, it was painted “with many a thousand daisies, red as rose,” and white also, in signification of whom, he knew not; unless it was the flower of Alcestis <11>, who, under Venus, was queen of the place, as Admetus was king;

Yet nere* and nere* forth in I gan me dress, *nearer Into a hall of noble apparail,* *furnishings With arras <14> spread, and cloth of gold, I guess, And other silk *of easier avail;* *less difficult, costly, to attain* Under the *cloth of their estate,* sans fail, *state canopy* The King and Queen there sat, as I beheld; It passed joy of *Elysee the feld.* *The Elysian Fields*

There saintes* have their coming and resort, *martyrs for love To see the King so royally beseen,* *adorned In purple clad, and eke the Queen *in sort;* *suitably* And on their heades saw I crownes twain, With stones frett,* so that it was no pain, *adorned Withoute meat or drink, to stand and see The Kinge’s honour and the royalty.

To treat of state affairs, Danger <15> stood by the King, and Disdain by the Queen; who cast her eyes haughtily about, sending forth beams that seemed “shapen like a dart, sharp and piercing, and small and straight of line;” while her hair shone as gold so fine, “dishevel, crisp, down hanging at her back a yard in length.” <16> Amazed and dazzled by her beauty, Philogenet stood perplexed, till he spied a Maid, Philobone — a chamberwoman of the Queen’s — who asked how and on what errand he came thither. Learning that he had been summoned by Mercury, she told him that he ought to have come of his free will, and that he “will be shent [rebuked, disgraced]” because he did not.

“For ye that reign in youth and lustiness, Pamper’d with ease, and jealous in your age, Your duty is, as far as I can guess, To Love’s Court to dresse* your voyage, *direct, address As soon as Nature maketh you so sage That ye may know a woman from a swan, <17> Or when your foot is growen half a span.

“But since that ye, by wilful negligence, This eighteen year have kept yourself at large, The greater is your trespass and offence, And in your neck you must bear all the charge: For better were ye be withoute barge* *boat Amid the sea in tempest and in rain, Than bide here, receiving woe and pain

“That ordained is for such as them absent From Love’s Court by yeares long and fele.* many I lay* my life ye shall full soon repent; *wager For Love will rive your colour, lust, and heal:* *health Eke ye must bait* on many a heavy meal: *feed *No force,* y-wis; I stirr’d you long agone *no matter* To draw to Court,” quoth little Philobone.

“Ye shall well see how rough and angry face The King of Love will show, when ye him see; By mine advice kneel down and ask him grace, Eschewing* peril and adversity; *avoiding For well I wot it will none other be; Comfort is none, nor counsel to your ease; Why will ye then the King of Love displease?”

These wordes said, she caught me by the lap,* *edge of the garment And led me forth into a temple round, Both large and wide; and, as my blessed hap And good. adventure was, right soon I found A tabernacle <18> raised from the ground, Where Venus sat, and Cupid by her side; Yet half for dread I gan my visage hide.

And eft* again I looked and beheld, *afterwards Seeing *full sundry people* in the place, *people of many sorts* And *mister folk,* and some that might not weld *craftsmen <19>* Their limbes well, — me thought a wonder case. *use The temple shone with windows all of glass, Bright as the day, with many a fair image; And there I saw the fresh queen of Carthage,

Dido, that brent* her beauty for the love *burnt Of false Aeneas; and the waimenting* *lamenting Of her, Annelide, true as turtle dove To Arcite false; <20> and there was in painting Of many a Prince, and many a doughty King, Whose martyrdom was show’d about the walls; And how that fele* for love had suffer’d falls.** *many **calamities

Philogenet was astonished at the crowd of people that he saw, doing sacrifice to the god and goddess. Philobone informed him that they came from other courts; those who knelt in blue wore the colour in sign of their changeless truth <21>; those in black, who uttered cries of grief, were the sick and dying of love. The priests, nuns, hermits, and friars, and all that sat in white, in russet and in green, “wailed of their woe;” and for all people, of every degree, the Court was open and free. While he walked about with Philobone, a messenger from the King entered, and summoned all the new-come folk to the royal presence. Trembling and pale, Philogenet approached the throne of Admetus, and was sternly asked why he came so late to Court. He pleaded that a hundred times he had been at the gate, but had been prevented from entering by failure to see any of his acquaintances, and by shamefacedness. The King pardoned him, on condition that thenceforth he should serve Love; and the poet took oath to do so, “though Death therefor me thirle [pierce] with his spear.” When the King had seen all the new-comers, he commanded an officer to take their oaths of allegiance, and show them the Statutes of the Court, which must be observed till death.

And, for that I was letter’d, there I read The statutes whole of Love’s Court and hail: The first statute that on the book was spread, Was, To be true in thought and deedes all Unto the King of Love, the lord royal; And, to the Queen, as faithful and as kind As I could think with hearte, will, and mind.

The second statute, Secretly to keep Counsel* of love, not blowing** ev’rywhere *secrets **talking All that I know, and let it sink and fleet;* *float It may not sound in ev’ry wighte’s ear: Exiling slander ay for dread and fear, And to my lady, which I love and serve, Be true and kind, her grace for to deserve.

The third statute was clearly writ also, Withoute change to live and die the same, None other love to take, for weal nor woe, For blind delight, for earnest nor for game: Without repent, for laughing or for grame,* *vexation, sorrow To bide still in full perseverance: All this was whole the Kinge’s ordinance.

The fourth statute, To *purchase ever to her,* *promote her cause* And stirre folk to love, and bete* fire *kindle On Venus’ altar, here about and there, And preach to them of love and hot desire, And tell how love will quite* well their hire: *reward This must be kept; and loth me to displease: If love be wroth, pass; for thereby is ease.

The fifth statute, Not to be dangerous,* *fastidious, angry If that a thought would reave* me of my sleep: *deprive Nor of a sight to be over squaimous;* *desirous And so verily this statute was to keep, To turn and wallow in my bed and weep, When that my lady, of her cruelty, Would from her heart exilen all pity.

The sixth statute, It was for me to use Alone to wander, void of company, And on my lady’s beauty for to muse, And thinken it *no force* to live or die; *matter of indifference* And eft again to think* the remedy, *think upon How to her grace I might anon attain, And tell my woe unto my sovereign.

The sev’nth statute was, To be patient, Whether my lady joyful were or wroth; For wordes glad or heavy, diligent, Whether that she me helde *lefe or loth:* *in love or loathing* And hereupon I put was to mine oath, Her for to serve, and lowly to obey, And show my cheer,* yea, twenty times a day. *countenance

The eighth statute, to my rememberance, Was, For to speak and pray my lady dear, With hourly labour and great entendance,* *attention Me for to love with all her heart entere,* *entire And me desire and make me joyful cheer, Right as she is, surmounting every fair; Of beauty well,* and gentle debonair. *the fountain

The ninth statute, with letters writ of gold, This was the sentence, How that I and all Should ever dread to be too overbold Her to displease; and truly so I shall; But be content for all thing that may fall, And meekly take her chastisement and yerd,* *rod, rule And to offend her ever be afear’d.

The tenth statute was, Equally* to discern *justly Between the lady and thine ability, And think thyself art never like to earn, By right, her mercy nor her equity, But of her grace and womanly pity: For, though thyself be noble in thy strene,* *strain, descent A thousand fold more noble is thy Queen.

Thy life’s lady and thy sovereign, That hath thine heart all whole in governance, Thou may’st no wise it take to disdain, To put thee humbly at her ordinance, And give her free the rein of her pleasance; For liberty is thing that women look,* *look for, desire And truly else *the matter is a crook.* *things go wrong*

Th’ eleventh statute, Thy signes for to know With eye and finger, and with smiles soft, And low to couch, and alway for to show, For dread of spies, for to winken oft: And secretly to bring a sigh aloft, But still beware of over much resort; For that peradventure spoileth all thy sport.