THE EAGLE'S FLIGHT WITH THE POET. And I adown 'gan looken tho,1 Now townés, and now great treés That I ne might it not discern.4 A gentle THE FLOWER AND THE LEAF. This has an instructive moral. woman, out of an arbor in a grove, seeth a great company of knights and ladies in a dance upon the green grass, the which being ended they all kneel down, and do honor to the daisy, some to the Flower and some to the Leaf. Afterward this gentlewoman learneth by one of these ladies the meaning hereof, which is this: they who honor the Flower, a thing fading with every blast, are such as look after beauty and worldly pleasure; but they that honor the Leaf, which abideth with the root, notwithstanding the winter storms and frosts, are they which follow virtue and true merit, without regarding worldly respects. Such are the chief poems of Geoffrey Chaucer.5 Though Chaucer was and is known chiefly as a poet, yet in his prose he equally excels all his contemporaries, thus verifying what we believe will be found to be a universal truth, that every good poet is no less distinguished for a clear and vigorous prose style. Two of the Canterbury Tales, the Tale of Melibeus and the Parson's Tale, are in prose, but his longest unversified production is his Testament of Love, written to defend his character from the imputations cast on it by his enemies. From the Tale of Melibeus we extract the following excellent remarks UPON RICHES. In getting of your riches, and in using of 'em, ye shulen alway have three things in your heart, that is to say, our Lord God, con 1 Tho-then. 2 Unnethes-not easily, with difficulty. 3 Prick-point. 4 I stood, methought, betwixt earth, seas, and skies, 6 Read--"Clarke's Tales from Chaucer," written in imitation of Lamb's "Tales from Shakspeare," and Clarke's "Riches of Chaucer." Also, a critique upon Chaucer in the Retrospective Review, ix. 173; and another in the Edinburgh Review, iii. 437; also a parallel between Chaucer and Spenser in the latter Review, xxiv. 58. C science, and good name. First ye shulen have God in your heart, and for no riches ye shulen do nothing which may in any manner displease God that is your creator and maker; for, after the word of Solomon, it is better to have a little good with love of God, than to have muckle good and lese the love of his Lord God; and the prophet saith, that better it is to ben a good man and have little good and treasure, than to be holden a shrew and have great riches. And yet I say furthermore, that ye shulden always do your business to get your riches, so that ye get 'em with a good conscience. And the apostle saith, that there nis thing in this world, of which we shulden have so great joy, as when our conscience beareth us good witness; and the wise man saith, The substance of a man is full good when sin is not in a man's conscience. Afterward, in getting of your riches and in using of 'em, ye must have great business and great diligence that your good name be alway kept and conserved; for Solomon saith, that better it is and more it availeth a man to have a good name than for to have great riches; and therefore he saith in another place, Do great diligence (saith he) in keeping of thy friends and of thy good name, for it shall longer abide with thee than any treasure, be it never so precious; and certainly he should not be called a gentleman that, after God and good conscience all things left, ne doth his diligence and business to keepen his good name; and Cassiodore saith, that it is a sign of a gentle heart, when a man loveth and desireth to have a good name. JOHN GOWER. Died 1408. JOHN GOWER, one of the most ancient of the English poets, was contemporary with Chaucer, his intimate friend. Where, when, or of what family he was born, is uncertain. His education, says Warton,1 appears to have been liberal, and his course of reading extensive, and he tempered his severer studies by mingling with the world. By a critical cultivation of his native language, he labored to reform its irregularities, and to establish an English style. In these respects he resembled Chaucer, but he has little of his spirit, imagination, or elegance. His language is tolerably perspicuous, and his versification often harmonious, but his poetry is of a grave and sententious turn. He has much good sense, solid reflection, and useful observation; but he is serious and didactic on all occasions, preserving the tone of the scholar and the moralist on the most lively topics. Hence he is characterized by Chaucer as the Morall Gower." He died in 1408. The chief work of Gower is entitled "CONFESSIO AMANTIS," or the Confession of a Lover. It consists of a long dialogue between a Lover and his Confessor, who is a priest of Venus, and is called Genius. To make his pre 1 Read-his "History of English Poetry," 4 vols., a work of vast learning. but not unfrequently tedious from its numerous digressions. cepts more impressive, he illustrates his injunctions by a series of apposite tales, with the morality of which the lover professes to be highly edified. One of which, entitled "Florent," has considerable merit, and is told in Gower's best manner. As it is too long to insert in the Compendium, we wili give the substance of it in prose, as near the author's language as we can, interspersing here and there a few lines of the original. There was, in days of old, as men tell, a worthy knight by the name of Florent; nephew to the emperor, and of great strength and courage. He was also ambitious of distinction in arms, and to gain the applause of men, he would go into any regions in search of adventures. It happened upon a time when he was abroad, that, going through a narrow pass, he was attacked by a number of men, and was taken and led to a castle. In the affray, however, he had killed Branchus, the son and heir of the captain of the castle. The father and mother were ready to take vengeance on him, but remembrance of his worthiness, and his high connections, made them pause. They feared to slay him, and were "in great disputes on what was best." There was a lady in the castle of very great age, and the shrewdest of all that men then knew. She, on being asked her advice, said, that she would devise a plan that would bring about the death of Florent, and all by his own agreement, and without blame to any one. The knight is summoned, and she thus addresses him: "Florent, though thou art guilty of Branchus's death, no punishment shall be visited upon thee, upon this condition-that thou shalt be able to answer a question which I shall ask; and thou shalt take an oath that if thou prove unable to do this, thou shalt yield thyself up voluntarily to death. And that thou mayest have time to think of it, and to advise with others, a day shall be fixed for thee to go hence in safety, provided that at the expiration of the time agreed upon, thou return with thine answer.” The knight begs the lady to propose the question immediately, and agrees to all her conditions. then says, "Florent, my question is one which pertains to love, What allé women most desire.” She Florent then, having taken an oath to return on a fixed day, goes forth, and returns to his uncle's court again. He tells him all that had befallen him, and asks the opinion of all the wisest men of the land upon the question to which he is bound to give an answer at the peril of his life. But he finds no two that agree. What some like, others dislike; but what to all is most pleasant, and most desired above all other Such a thing they cannot find By constellation ne kind, that is neither by the stars, nor by the laws of kind or nature. At length the day arrived when Florent must return. He begs his uncle not to be angry with him, for that is a "point of his oath," and he also entreats him not to let any one revenge his death when he shall hear of his lamentable end. So he sets out on his return-pondering what to do That for to speak of flesh and bone what answer to give tree, under which sat Our hero was riding by briskly, when she called to him by name, and said, "Florent, you are riding to your death, but I can save you by my counsel." He turned at once, and begged her to advise him what he should do. Said she, "What wilt thou give me, if I will point out a course by means of which you shall escape death?" "Any thing you may ask," said he. "I want nothing more than this promise," said she, "therefore give me your pledge That you will be my housébande." "Nay," said Florent" that may not be." "Ride thenné forth thy way," quod she. Florent was now in great perplexity: he rode to and fro, and knew not what to do. He promised lands, parks, houses, but all to no purpose, the housébande was the only thing that would do. He came, however, to the conclusion that t was Better to take her to his wife, Or elles for to lose his life. He also calculated with some skill the doctrine of chances, and came to the conclusion that she would probably not live very long; and that while she did live he would put her Where that no man her shouldé know Till she with death were overthrow. He therefore agreed, most reluctantly, to the terms proposed. She then tells him that when he reaches the castle, and they demand of him his answer to the question proposed, he shall reply That alle women lievest would Be sovereign of mannes love; for what woman, says she, is so favored as to have all her will: and if she be not "sovereign of mannes love," she cannot have what she "lievest have," that is what she may most desire. With this answer, With this answer, she says he shall save himself; and then she bids him to return to this same place, where he shall find her waiting for him. Florent rode sadly on, and came to the castle. A large number of the inmates is summoned to hear his answer. He named several things of his own excogitations, but all would not do. Finally, he gives the answer the old woman directed: it is declared to be the true one, and he rides forth from the castle. Here began poor Florent's deepest sorrow, for he must return according to his oath. He rides back, and finds the old woman sitting in the same place, The loathliest wight That ever man cast on his eye, There was no grace in her visage. She insists, however, that he shall comply with the terms of agreement, and therefore, sick at heart, and almost preferring death, 1 Low hat. 2 Shrivelled. 8 Hanging. In ragges as she was to-tore He set her on his horse to-fore, and riding through all the lanes and by-ways, that no one might see him, he arrives, by design, at the castle by night. He then calls one or two of his trusty friends, and tells them that he was obliged This beste wedde to his wife, The maids of honor were then sent in; Her ragges they anon off draw, And was arrayed to the best, all except her matted and unsightly hair, which she would not allow them to touch. But when she was fully array'd Then was she fouler unto see. But poor Florent must take her for better for worse, though the worse seemed then rather to predominate. The company are all assembled, and the bride and bridegroom stand up to be united in the holy bonds of matrimony. The ceremony being over, the ill-fated knight covered up his head in grief. His body mighté well be there; But as of thought and of memoire She endeavored to ingratiate herself in his affections, and approached and took him softly by the hand. He turned suddenly, and saw one of the most beautiful beings that ever his eyes beheld. He was about to draw her unto himself-when she stopped him, And sayth, that for to win or lose For he shall not have bothé two. Here Florent was utterly at a loss what to say. At last he exclaims, I n'ot what answer I shall give, This is the point-he yields up his will entirely to hers. This is what “allé 1 Whether. |