The Canterbury Tales [279]
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)
The poem consists of 206 stanzas of seven lines each; of which, in this edition, eighty-three are represented by a prose abridgement.
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*
When [he] was young, at eighteen year of age, Lusty and light, desirous of pleasance, Approaching* full sad and ripe corage,<7> *gradually attaining
The poem consists of 206 stanzas of seven lines each; of which, in this edition, eighty-three are represented by a prose abridgement.
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*
When [he] was young, at eighteen year of age, Lusty and light, desirous of pleasance, Approaching* full sad and ripe corage,<7> *gradually attaining