A study on The book of the duchess : love and consolation
著者（英） Hiroe Nagasawa
journal or
publication title
Doshisha literature
number 26
page range 1‑19
year 1972‑03‑22
権利（英） English Literary Society of Doshisha University
URL http://doi.org/10.14988/pa.2017.0000016480
A
STUDY ON THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESS
-LOVE AND CONSOLATION-
HIROE NAG AS A W A
The Book of the Duchess has the earliest date of Chaucer's major works, and among his works the poem is almost the only one that was motivated by the actual event; John of Gaunt, Chaucer's patron, lost his wife Blanche, Duchess of Lancaster, in September of 1369 by the plague which was prevalent over the country in those days. He maybe asked Chaucer to write an elegy. Thus, the poem is supposed to have been written within few months after her death, therefore, in 1369 or 1370. However, the poem itself is not directly addressed to the Duke nor to the late Duchess, as elegy and eulogy are often to be. Though the poem suggests by some lines that it was written to commemorate the death of Blanche:
And good faire White she het;
That was my lady name ryght, (948-9) A long castel with walles white, Be seynt Johan! on a ryche hi I, (1318-9)
it is so indirect that, if we do not know any background of the poem, we may miss that point. Chaucer would not take off his mask through- out the poem.
Since The Book of the Duchess was written before Chaucer went to Italy, Italian influence is not to be found in the poem.! On the other hand, the poem is greatly influenced by French literature. The sources of the poem can be traced back to Machaut's Jugement dou 1. P. V. D. Shelly, The Living Chaucer (Philadelphia: University of Pennsyl-
vania Press, 1940), p. 47.
( 1 )
2
Roy de Navarre, Froissart's Paradys d'Amours, and Roman de la Rose, that is, the poems of love-vision. In this sense, the Book of the Duchess is least original; here are two conventional themes taken up together, both of which were repeated over and over again in Medi- eval literature: one is courtly love expressed in the form of love- vision, and the other is consolation. The former represents an es- thetic idea of the Middle Ages, while the latter reflects a theoretical view of Medieval people. However, in spite of its conventional theme, the poem does not remain mere conventional, because for the poet the problem is always how to write rather than what to write.
The poem consists of three parts: 1) the narrator's" sicknesse,"
that is, the lack of sleep, 2) the Tale of Ceyx and Halcyone, and 3) the narrator's dream. In proportion to its length, the poem seems to be overstuffed with information. But maybe Chaucer was glad when he called to his mind the idea to combine these three elements into one frame, because, though the combination is somewhat awkward, the three parts are certainly coherent and have their own functions to build up a meaning of the poem.2 The structure of the poem and its significance will be examined when the poem is considered as a consolation; I think they are closely connected with the theme of consolation.
In spite of the narrator's naYvete, Chaucer the poet has confidence in what he is going to write. This is the start of his career as a writer. C. S. Lewis says, "If the poem (the Book of the Duchess]
has any faults, apart from its occasional lapses in style and metre, they arise from Chaucer's anxiety to do better than he is yet able."3 Maybe, Chaucer was too conscious of writing the poem at the request of the Duke, but the poem already has some characteristics of Chau- cer which are predominantly seen, in more refined form, in his later works. Firstly, some characteristics and interesting points of the poem will be examined in the light of the text. After that, the problem of consolation, in other words, the Knight-Dreamer relationship will be discussed.
2. Ibid., p. 57.
3. C. S. Lewis, The Allegory of LO'"L'e (New York; Oxford University Press, 1958), p. 170.
At the beginning of the poem, we are told that the narrator is not in a normal condition. He suffers from long sleeplessness. The lack of sleep is a typical symptom of love-sickness:
For sorwfull ymagynacioun
Ys alway hooly in my mynde. (14-5) And I ne may, ne nyght ne morwe, Slepe; and thus melancolye And drede I have for to dye. (22-4) And he cannot be cured:
For there is phisicien but oon That may me hele. (39-40)
However, in spite of his "sicknesse," his tone is a little different from that of a courtly lover in general; the narrator neither complains nor grieves bitterly. For him it is rather a surprise to see his long sleeplessness:
I have gret wonder, be this lyght, How that I lyve, for day ne nyght I may nat slepe well nygh noght. (1-3)
Because it is "agaynes kynde." After the long suffering, Defaute of slep and hevynesse
Hath sleyn my spirit of quyknesse That J have lost al lustyhede, (25-7)
and he has become dull. He is indifferent even to his condition. vVe recollect here Pandarus' speech to Troilus:
'vVhat? slombrestow as in a litargie?
Or artow like an asse to the harpe, That in his mynde of that no melodie May sinken, hym to gladen, for that he So duI is of his bestialite? (1, 730-35) Thus, the narrator lives nonchalantly.
But, this detachment is also due to his role as a narrator; he is conscious of his readers and knows that he is narrating the poem and that he should keep detached from his sorrow. The poem is not written to tell his unrequited love. The narrator cannot be too
4
serious about his own problem, nor indulge himself in his sorrow.
Moreover, he is a practical person:
So when I saw I might not slepe Til now late, this other night, Upon me bed I sat upright 1\nd bad oon reche me a book A romance, and he it me tok
To rede, and drive the night away. (44-9)
Such a notion would never occur to the mind of a lover like Troilus.
For me thought it beter play
Then play either at ches or tables. (50-1)
And, as he expected, reading a romance helps him to fall into sleep.
I have mentioned that the narrator's sorrow is not the main theme of the poem. Then, why did Chaucer make the narrator a lover?
I think his sleeplessness helps him to put himself into a situation similar to the Duke's.4 It is almost unbearable to see happy people when one is really unhappy, because the contrast is so great that one cannot be in sympathy with them. It is very possible that no sooner did the Duke read the poem than he found a friend in it. Also, the narrator's sleeplessnses is desirable as the opening of the poem, be- cause his desire for sleep lets him read the Tale of Ceyx and Hal- cyone. In this way, the poem goes on.
In the Tale of Ceyx and Halcyone, there are few courtly ele- ments, and the tale diverges from its original; some points are em- phasized and others are omitted only to make the tale fit to the purpose of the poem. Halcyone cannot hear anything of her hus- band-whether he is alive or dead and where he is now.
" Alas 1 ... that I was wrought;
And wher my lord, my love, be dead?
Certes, I nil never ete breed, I make avow to my god here, But I mowe of my lord here 1" (90-4)
But her sorrow is not so movingly expressed as that of Dorigen (see 4. John Lawlor, "The Pattern of Consolation in The Book of the Duchess,"
Chaucer Criticism Vol. II eds. R. J. Schoek and J. Taylor (Notre Dame:
University of Notre Dame Press, 1961), p. 241.
"the FrankIin's Tale "). The narrator seems to be touched by her.
sorrovv and says:
That trewly I, which made this book, Had such pittee and such rowthe To rede hir sorwe, that, by my trowthe I ferde the worse al the morwe Aftir, to thenken on hir sorwe. (96-100)
But he is somewhat playful in telling the tale, and what interests him most of the tale is the miracle which Juno brought to Halcyone (she does not ask Juno for sleep in Ovid):
My first matere I wil yow tell e, Wherfore I have told this thyng Of Alcione and Seys the kyng.
For I ne myght, for bote ne bale, Slepe, or I had red thys tale Of this dreynte Seys the kyng, And of the goddes of slepyng. (218-30)
Accordingly, the god of sleep is described most vividly and also hu- morously:
They had good leyser for to route, To envye who myghte slepe best.
Somme hange her chyn upon hir brest, And slept upryght, hir hed yhed, And somme lay naked in her bed And slepe whiles the dayes laste, (172-77) This god of slep with hys oon ye
Cast up, axed, "Who clepeth ther?" (184-85)
Morpheus is neither a god, nor a personified abstraction. He becomes a lovable character. The messenger is also a real figure:
" Awake! " quod he, "who ys lyth there?"
And blew his horn ryght in here eere, And cried" Awaketh
r"
wonder hye. (181-83)Chaucer does not like abstraction. His observation is keen and his description is concrete.5 The scene underground and the dialogue
5. Shelly, The Living ChaZtcer, p. 50.
6
between Morpheus and the messenger are, thus, the most vivid parts in the poem.
It is true that the tale has the function of letting the narrator fall into sleep. This part of the poem works as a bridge from the narrator's waking to his sleep. However, the tale has another signi- ficance; the Tale of Ceyx and Halcyone is a foreshadowing of the Knight's sorrow in the dream, and at the sa me time the tale suggests the Duke's sorrow, too. Halcyone is b~re3.ved of her husband, so are the Knight and the Duke, of their wives. They are all in the same condition. Pitying Halcyone, Chaucer the poet pities the Duke im- plicitly. Therefore, Ceyx's words:
"My swet wyf, Awake! let be your sorwful Iy£!
For in your sorwe there lyth no red.
For, certes, swete, I nam but ded;
Ye shul me never on lyve yse (201-5)
can be regarded as Chaucer's comfort to the Duke. Chaucer's version does not have the last part of the myth, that is, metamorphosis of Ceyx and Halcyone.
Together They suffered, and together loved; no parting Followed them in their new-found form as birds.
They mate, have young, and in the winter season, For seven days of calm, Alcyone
Broods over her nest on the surface of the waters While the sea-waves are quiet. Through this time Aeolus keeps his winds at home, and ocean Is smooth for hir descendant's sake.s
This is the point of the myth. However, Chaucer dares to cut it off, because their metamorphosis is so romantic and incredible that it will not serve, Chaucer thinks, for a comfort to the Duke.1 Such a 6. Ovid, j\letamorphosis, tr. by Rolfe Humphries (Bloomington: Indiana Uni-
versity Press, 1968), p. 282.
7. W. Clemen, Chaucer's Early Poetry, tr. by C. A. M. Sym (New York:
Bames and Noble, Inc., 1964), p. 55. Also see D. Everett, "Some Reflections on Chaucer's 'art poetical,'" Essays on l'v1iddle English Literature, ed., by P. Kean (Oxford: at the Clarendon Press, 1955), p. 162.
j j j j
j j j j j j j j j
j j j j
j j
j
j
j
j
romanticism may even be taken ill by the Duke. Chaucer wants to be more practical to the Duke's sorrow.
Chaucer knows that reading the tale will serve for the narrator's sleeplessness. But until the last moment, the narrator doubts it:
\7Vhen I had red thys tale wel, And overloked hyt everydel,
Me thoughte wonder yf hit were so;
And in my game I sayde anoon- Yif he wol make me slepe a lyte, Yf I wiste where were hys cave,
Yf' he kan make me slepe sone. (231-63, Italics mine).
This is the narrator's assumed naIvete, but Chaucer is never innocent at alI.8 Sometimes the gap between the two is so clear that the nar- rator's naIvete seems a pretense.
By the narrator's sleep, the poem has come to the main point;
the narrator's dream is the most important in the poem. However, the setting of the dream follows the convention; May-morning, birds singing, beautiful meadow adorned with flowers, and a mourning knight under a tree-all are familiar to the Medieval audience, but they are not at all treated allegorically as in Roman de la Rose and other French works.9 The dream is not written to convey some ab- stract ideas. If it is, abstraction will not serve for a comfort to the Duke. The vivid and concrete description is genuinely Chaucer's .
. . . they CbirdsJ sate among Upon my chambre roof wythoute, Upon the tyles, overal aboute, (298-300) For al my chambre gan to rynge
Thrurgh syngynge of her armonys, (312-13) ... and with glas
Were al the wyndowes wel yglased, Ful clere, and nat an hoole ycrased, (322-24)
8. G. L. Kittredge, Chaucer and His Poetry (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1960), p. 48.
9. Clemen, Chaucer's Early Poetry, p. 25.
8
And throgh the glas the sonne shon Upon my bed with bryghte hemes, With many glade gilde stremes, (336-38)
... up annon
Took me hors, and forth I wente Out of my chambre; I never stente Til I corn to the feld withoute, (356--59) Hyt (whelp) corn and crepte to me as lowe Ryght as hyt hadde me yknowe,
Helde doun hy8 hed and joyned hys eres, And leyde al smothe doun hy8 heres.
I wolde have kaught hyt, and anoon Hyt fledde. (391-96)
All these descriptions can be easily visualized. In the dream, the narrator runs after a hunting party and asks a man who is hunting there. The man says, "Syr, th'emperour Octovyen" (368). This strange name which has no context is really dream-like. Chaucer knows dream-psychology.lO This is also his realism.
Meanwhile, the dreamer meets with a knight mourning under an oak tree. He comes to the knight by stealth and overhears his lamen- tation. This is a conventional pattern. We recollect Pandarus' mani- pulation when he tells Criseide how he has come to know Troilus' sorrow:
And I after gan romen to and fro, Til that I herde, as that I welk allone, How he bigan ful wofully to grone.
Tho gan I stalke hym softely byhynde. (ll, 516-19)
This is not true. It is in his bedroom that he finds Troilus grieving, but Pandarus changes the fact into the courtly fashion, because it is a smarter way to woo Criseide. In this way, the Knight is also in- troduced as a courtly lover (though we shall see by and by that he is not a type character). The Dreamer's first reaction to the Knight's sorrow is, however, rather simple:
Hit was gret wonder that Nature Myght suffre any creature
To have such sorwe, and be not ded. (467--59) 10. Ibid., p. 41. Also Kittredge, Chaucer and His Poetry, p. 68.
The narrator still keeps his naIvete in the dream. Then, it is some- time before the Knight notices the Dreamer:
I went and stood ryght at his fet, And grette hym, but he spak noght, But argued with his owne thoght, So, throgh hys sorwe ond hevy thoght, Made hym that he herde me noght. (502-10)
This is also a convention; Chretien's Lancelot behaves as the Knight does:
... only one creature he has in mind, and for her his thought is so occupied that he neither sees nor hears aught else.l l
However, Chaucer is careful of describing the Knight so that he may not look like "an asse to the harpe," because the Knight is taken for the Duke.
Loo! how goodly spak thys knyght, As hit had be another wyght. (529-30)
Then at the Dreamer's request, the Knight begins to tell his sor- row. At first, he is overwhelmed with sorrow:
For whoso seeth me first on morwe May seyn he hath met with sorwe, For y am sorwe, and sorwe ys y. (595-97)
He also blames Fortune. This is a conventional attitude of the Medi- eval people when they fall into misfortune. But he accepts Fortune to some extent:
And eke she ys the lasse to blame;
Myself I wolde have do the same, Before God, hadde I ben as she;
She oghte the more excused be.
For this J say yet more therto, Had I be God and myghte have do My wille, whan she my fers kaughte,
I wolde have drawe the same draughte. (675-82)
11. Chretien de Troyes, "Lancelot" Arthurian Romances, tr.
vV. vv.
Comfort (London: J. M. Dent and Sons Ltd., 1955), p. 279.10
He becomes reasonable for a time. But soon, But through thatdraughte I have lom My blysse; allas 1 that I was born 1 (685-6)
It is interesting to follow the Knight's psychology; sometimes he be- comes subdued, and suddenly, like a convulsion, his sorrow comes back (see also lines 810~15).
However, finally he agrees to tell the Dreamer all his sorrow;
"come sytte adoun 1 I tell the upon a condicioun
That thou shalt hooly, with al thy wyt, Doo thyn entent to herkene hit." (749-52)
And, thereafter, the Knight's tone changes. He somehow detaches himself from his narrative, because he tells it to the naive person.
If the Knight is carried away with emotion, the Dreamer vvill be unable to follow him. He has to be told plainly and clearly, (the Dreamer often misunderstands the Knight). If the Knight had told his sorrow to a priest like Genius, he might have cried or asked him for some advice. The Knight cannot rely on the Dreamer, but tries to make his listener understand his sorrow. But the Knight's detach- ment is not merely due to his situation (that is, to tell his sorrow to the innocent person), it is also due to the content of his narrative;
since his sorrow is recollected, its bitterness has already passed. Com- pared with his new sorrow (the loss of his lady,) his old sorrow seems even sweet. He smiles at his immaturity:
1 was ryght yong, soth to say, And ful gret nede I hadde to leme;
Whan my herte wolde yerne To love, hyt was a gret empryse.
But as my wyt koude best suffise, After my yonge childly wyt, (1090-95) and admits to have been awkward:
Bowynge to hir, I heng the had;
J durste nat ones loke hir on, For wit, maner, and al was goon.
I seyde 'mercy l' and no more. (1216-19)
Like him Troilus also forgets himself before Criseide:
Lo, thalderfirste word that hym asterte
Was, twyes: "mercy, mercy, swete herte!" (Ill, 97-8)
However awkward he was, the Knight is now sensible enough to see what he was.
The Knight begins his tale with his childhood-how he had been idle until he met his lady:
For that tyme Youthe, my maistresse, Governed me in ydelnesse;
For hyt was in my nrste youthe, And thoo ful Iytel good y couthe For al my werkes were fiyttynge That tyme, and al my thoght varyinge.
Al were to me ylyche good That I knew thoo; (797-804)
We may recollect St. Augustine before his conversion. Whether it is Christianity or love-religion, faith makes one change.
Shal I clepe hyt hap other grace That broght me there? (8lO-l1)
Pandarus might answer the Knight: "the oghte not to clepe hit hap but grace" (1, 896).
The description of beauty of Lady White is one of the most beautiful parts in the poem. Her beauty is described point by point, but what makes her amiable is also her character. Though she is a courtly lady, she is not "la dame sans merci." Her tenderness is remarkable.
But good folk, over al other,
She loved as man may do hys brother;
Of which love she was wonder large, (891-93) Ne chyde she koude never a del;
That knoweth al the world ful wel, (937-38) Ne sende men into Walakye
And byd hym faste annon that he Goo hoodles to the Drye Se And come horn by the Carrenar, And seye 'Sir, be now ryght war
12
That I may of yow here seyn W orshyp, or that ye come ageyn!'
She ne used no suche knakkes smale. (1024-33) The Knight even says:
That Trouthe hymself, over al and al Had shose hys maner principal
In hir, that was his restyng place. (1003-5)
But the exaggeration does not mar her excellence. Why not? Many poets praise their ladies' beauty as the Knight does, and yet the re- sult is not the same. I think the Knight has an unusual affection for his lady. He is not reading a list of her beauty, but recollecting her charms one by one:
For every heer on hir hed, Soth to seyne, hyt was not red, Ne nouther yelowe, no broun hyt nas, Me thoughte most lyk gold hyt was. (855-58) Hyr throte, as I have now memoyre, Semed a round tour of yvoyre,
Of good gretnesse, and noght to gret. (945-47) (Italics mine)
Therefore, each word does not go superficially. The Knight respects her, but not as a goddess. He praises her, and yet he feels familiality toward her. "She was such a wonderful lady and I won her!" The Knight's attitude is like that of the one who has got a precious trea- sure and is showing it to the others.
However, his talk is often interrupted by the Dreamer's innocent questions:
I leve yow wel, that trewely Y ow thoghte that she was the beste, And to beholde the alderfayreste,
Whoso had loke hir with your eyen. (1048-51) l\r1alory's Lancelot is reproved in the same way:
... for every man thynkith hys owne lady fayryste, and thoughe I prayse the lady that J love moste, ye sholde nat be wrothe.
For thoughe my lady quene Gwenyver be
fayryst in youre eye, wyte you well quene Morgause of Orkeney ys fayryst in myne eye, and so every knyght thynkith his own lady fayryste.12 But the Knight denies the Dreamer's view:
With myn? nay, alle that hir seyen Seyde and sworen hyt was 800. (1052-53)
Thus, the Knight's exalted feeling is checked by the Dreamer's ques- tions. They work as anti-climaxes (1 think the Dreamer's questions have significance for consolation, though).
However, owing to the innocent narrator, the dream gets free from monotone of the convention. The dream greatly owes its vivid- ness to the dialogue between the Knight and the Dreamer. They are hoth real characters. The Knight is "of the age of foure and twenty years / Upon his berd but lytil her," while the Dreamer is a simple and unsophisticated person, or at least he is described like that. One of the most frequent words in the poem is " wonder." As for the narrator's sleeplessness:
I have gret wonder, be this lyght, How that I lyve, for days ne nyght I may nat slepe wel nygh noght, (1-3)
and when he has read the Tale of Ceyx and Halcyone:
Amonge al this I fond a tale
That me thoughte a wonder thing. (60-1) As for his dream:
... and therwith even Me mette so ynly swete a sweven So wonderful ... (275-77)
When he sees the Knight grieving in the dream:
Hit was gret wonder that Nature Myght suffre any creature
To have such sorwe, and be not ded. (467-69)
12. Thomas Malory, The Works, ed. EugEme Vinaver (London: Oxford Uni- versity Press, 1964), p. 361.
14
The narrator always wonders at things. This is his nalvete, and it has been kept to the end of the poem.
Thoghte I, "Thys ys so queynt a sweven That I wol, be processe of tyme, Fonde to put this sweven in ryme As I kan best, and that annon."
This was my sweven; now hit ys doon. (1330-34)
These are the last lines of the poem. I am not sure that the part is necessary to the poem, because by the statement, the purpose of the poem-a comfort for the Duke-is skillfully concealed. The narrator, he says, wrote the poem, only because it was so wonderful. There seems to be no other intention. Therefore, the narrator cannot be identified with the poet.
One more important thing is left undiscussed. It is the problem of consolation in the poem. Does the poem work as a consolation?
I think it does. But, we cannot expect, here, such consolation as we see in The Consolation of Philosophy and Confessio Amantis13 and also such wise advisers like Philosophy and Genius. The Dreamer in The Book of the Duchess is an innocent listener who seems to be inferior in every point to the Knight. The Dreamer does not give any good advice, though he wishes to comfort the Knight:
... to make yow hoo1,
I wol do al my power hoo1. (553-54)
When he hears the Knight's loss, what he says is only, "Is that youre los? Be God, hyt ys routhe! "(1310) Therefore, the consola- tion in the poem is not expressed by words, but it is only suggested.
Chaucer expects that the Duke is sensible enough to understand what the poem means.
Then, what is the consolation in the poem? As all unhappy lovers do not believe their sorrow will be healed, neither does the Knight think his sorrow curable:
With that he loked on me asyde,
As who sayth, "Nay, that wo! not be." (558-59)
However, refusing to tell, he keeps telling: "Allas! and I wol tel 13. B. L. Jefferson, Chaucer and the Consolation of Philosophy of Boethil<s
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1917), p. 133.
the why," (598) " And I wol tell sone why soo," (816) "I will anoon ryght telle thee why." (847) Now he finds a relief in telling his sorrow. But the Dreamer's questions always irritate the Knight:
"Why so?" quod he, "hyt ys nat soo." (742) With myn? nay, all that hir seyn
Seyde and sworen hyt was soo. (1052-53) Repentaunce! nay, fy! ...
Shulde y now repente me To love? Nay ... (1115-17)
It may be less bearable to be misunderstood than not to be under- stood at all. The Knight wants to make the Dreamer understand, and tells more and more to the very last point, "She ys ded 1" The Knight has told all his sorrow. It is what the Dreamer expected:
And telleth me of your sorwes smerte;
Paraunter hyt may see youre herte,
That semeth ful sek under your syde. (555-57)
I think the Dreamer knew the cause of the Knight's loss, because he overheard the Knight mourning under a tree :14
And was thys, for ful wel I kan Reherse hyt; ryght thus hyt began:
Now that I see my lady bryght, Which I have loved with al my myght, Is fro me ded and ys agoon.
Allas, deth, what ayleth the, That thou noldest have taken me,
When thou toke my lady swete, (473-83) (Italics mine) and yet he wants to know his sorrow more in details:
Anoon ryght I gan fynde a tale To hym, to loke wher I myght ought Have more knowynge of hys thought, (536-38)
and to ease him, if possible. It is said that, when one finds a good listener, his problem has almost be solved. The Knight finds the one, whether good or not, to whom he can open his mind.15 This 14. Kittredge, Chauar and His Poetry, p. 52.
15. Clemen, Chaucer's Early Poetry, p. 44.
16
is not a consolation, but certainly the first step to be consoled.
Then, what is expected next? The Knight has lost his lady.
This is the fact, but is there nothing left to him?
Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind.
(W. Wordsworth, Immortality Ode, X, 181-84)
I think this is the consolation in The Book of The Duchess; death has taken away his lady from the Knight, but it cannot take her away from his mind. She remains unstained in his memory. Though the poem is an elegy, it is not pathetic at all. We may compare his sorrow with Troilus':
"Lo yonder saugh ich last my lady daunce;
And yonder ones to me gan she seye:
"Now goode swete, love me wel, I preye.' ... and in that yonder place,
My lady first me took, unto hire grace." (V, 565-81)
This is really pathetic. What is the difference? Both the Knight and Troilus have "double sorwe," and one loses his lady by her death, and the other, by the change of his lady's mind. Because of her betrayal Troilus loses Criseide even from his mind. Her image cannot but change. The Knight seems happier than Troilus. In The Book of the Duchess, we see the mutual happiness of the lover and the beloved, and that image never changes. Lady White's charms will often be recollected with love. This is the Knight's bliss in his mis- fortune. Moreover, the Knight seems happier than the Dreamer, too. We are told that the narrator is a lover, and I have mentioned that it is a device to put the narrator in a situation similar to the Duke's. But there is a difference between the two lovers; the nar- rator's love is never requited. He cannot sleep for that, and become dull because of the lack of sleep. Is it also because of his sleep- lessness that the Dreamer is so naive and slow-witted? He seems to have lost forever the chance to be ennobled by love. On the other
hand, the Knight is a noble person:
And I saw that, and gan me aqueynte
·With hym, and fond hym so tretable, Ryght wonder skylful and resonable, As me thoghte, for al hys bale, (532-35)
and, maybe, his love made him even nobler, because he got mercy from his lady. In Malory's works the opposite view is presented:
'Nay, nay ... youre sorwe ys but japys to my sorow; for I rejoysed my lady and wan her wyth myne hondis and loste her agayne ... And thus my sorow ys more than youres, for I have l"ejoysed, and ye nevir rejoysed."6
Boethius (as the narrator) also thinks that the worst sorrow is the remembrance of lost joys (see II, prose iv). Pandarus agrees with him, too:
For of fortunes sharp adversitee The worste kynde of in fortune is this;
A man to han ben in prosperitee,
And it remembren v"han it passed is. (III, 1625-28)
The Monk has the same opinion as theirs (see "the Monk's Tale ").
But, as I said before, The Book of the Duchess is not influenced by Boethian philosophy, and V·le do not have to interpret the poem that way. If Chancer agrees here that the worst sorrow is the remem- brance of lost joys, the Knight will be taken to be the unhappiest person. It does not work as a comfort and a consolation. The Knight is happier than both the narrator and Troilus, for he gets such a wonderful lady like White, and her image remains perfect even after her death. If there is any consolation for the Knight's bereavement; that is the one.17 The Duke is expected to see this consolation. But it is only implicitly shown.
I think Chancer did not like to become a Job's Comforter to the Duke (see Job, Ch. IV~VI).
16. Malory, The Works, p. 569-70.
17. Lawlor. "The Pattern of Consolation in The Book of the Duchess," p. 241.
18
" Allas, sir, how? what may that be?"
"She ys ded!" "Nay!" "Yis, be my trouthe!"
"Is that youre los? Be God, hyt ys routhe!"
And with that word ryght anoon They gan to strake forth; al was doon, For that tyme, the hert-hunting. (1308-12)
This is the rather abrupt ending of their conversation. Chaucer re- fuses to become a sagacious adviser to the Duke,18 and here, the hunters' return serves for his purpose, because, unless the hunting people had come back, their dialogue would have kept going on;
the Dreamer has heard all the Knight's sorrow, and now it is his turn to say something consolatory to the Knight, but it is beyond the Dreamer's ability. The hunters' return, therefore, gives the Dreamer the chance to leave the Knight and also makes him wake up from the dream. It is not clear why Chaucer set the hunting scene in the dream. Some critics see the contrast between sorrow of the Knight and joy of the hunting people and say that a sorrowful person feels isolation from other people.19 This contrast, however, does not work as a consolation, but it shows a crude reality. Therefore, if we are to take the contrast seriously, we have to agree that Chaucer intended not only to give a comfort to the Duke but also to show him a reality.
I am not confident of that interpretation, but it is certain that the hunting scene has the practical function to end both the dialogue and the poem most naturally.
Lastly, suspense or the dramatic elements in the poem will be considered.20 In a sense, the greater parts of the poem is a prepara- tion for drawing the words "she ys ded" from the Knight's mouth.
From the beginning of the poem, we expect what is going on next.
Even in the dream, the climax is carefully put off, and when we hear the Knight's last words" she ys ded," the poem has almost ended.21 Root thinks this roundabout a fault.22 But when I think of this post- ponement, I cannot drive away a notion from my mind: the technique 18. Ibid., p. 256.
19. Clemen, Chaucer's Early Poetry, p. 39.
20. R. K. Root, The Poetry of Chaucer (Gloucester: Petter Smith, 1957), p. 62.
21. Clemen, Chaucer's Early Poetry, p. 43.
22. Root, The Poetry of Chaucer, p. 61.
19 is the same as that of ballad. Many ballads have the form of dialogue between two persons-questions and answers, and usually the most shocking thing is spoken at the end. Therefore, we are kept in sus- pense until the very last moment. For example:
"0 where ha you been, Lord Randal, my son?
And where ha you been, my handsome young man?"
"I ha been at the greenwood; mother, mak my bed soon, For I'm wearied wi hunt in, and fain wad lie down."
"What d' ye leave to your true-love, Lord Randal, my son?
What d' ye leave to your true· love, my handsome young man?"
"I leave her hell and fire; mother, mak my bed soon, For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down."
(Lord Randal, 1-40)
Edward, Edward and many other ballads have the same form. 'vVe also see another characteristic of ballad in The Book of the Duchess.
It is a refrain; whenever the Knight is interrupted by the Dreamer's questions, he answers the Dreamer:
"Thow wost ful lytel what thow menest;
I have lost more than thow wenest." (743-44, 1137-38, 1305-6) The words are repeated thrice in the dialogue. In this way, both dramatic and metrical elements of ballad are seen in the dialogue, and we also see a naive character of ballad in the Dreamer. Did Chaucer think of ballad-form when he wrote the poem? Or is it a coinci- dence?
It may be interesting, too, to compare the language or the ver- sification of the poem with that of his later works and to see how Chaucer comes to establish his own style, but it is not my present concern. Though Root underestimates the poem, I think the Book of the Duchess, Chaucer's first work, already shows the poet's unusual genius.
