(Lamech, Chaucer tells us in "Queen Annelida and the false Arcite," was the first father that began The love of two, and was in bigamy.
This poem seems designed to illustrate much the same moral as that enforced by the "Legend of Good Women"--a moral which, by-the-bye, is already foreshadowed towards the close of "Troilus and Cressid," where Chaucer speaks of women that betrayed be Through false folk, (God give them sorrow, amen!)That with their greate wit and subtlety Betray you; and 'tis this that moveth me To speak; and, in effect, you all I pray:
Beware of men, and hearken what I say.)
At the same time the poet lends an attentive ear, as genius can always afford to do, to a criticism of his shortcomings, and readily accepts the sentence pronounced by Alcestis that he shall write a legend of GOODwomen, both maidens and also wives, that were true in loving all their lives.
And thus, with the courage of a good or at all events easy conscience, he sets about his task which unfortunately--it is conjectured by reason of domestic calamities, probably including the death of his wife--remained, or at least has come down to us unfinished. We have only nine of the nineteen stories which he appears to have intended to present (though indeed a manuscript of Henry IV's reign quotes Chaucer's book of "25 good women"). It is by no means necessary to suppose that all these nine stories were written continuously; maybe, too, Chaucer, with all his virtuous intentions, grew tired of his rather monotonous scheme, at a time when he was beginning to busy himself with stories meant to be fitted into the more liberal framework of the "Canterbury Tales." All these illustrations of female constancy are of classical origin, as Chaucer is glad to make known and most of them are taken from Ovid. But though the thread of the English poet's narratives is supplied by such established favourites as the stories of Cleopatra the Martyr Queen of Egypt, of Thisbe of Babylon the Martyr, and of Dido to whom "Aeneas was forsworn,"yet he by no means slavishly adheres to his authorities, but alters or omits in accordance with the design of his book. Thus, for instance, we read of Medea's desertion by Jason, but hear nothing of her as the murderess of her children; while, on the other hand, the tragedy of Dido is enhanced by pathetic additions not to be found in Virgil. Modern taste may dislike the way in which this poem mixes up the terms and ideas of Christian martyrology with classical myths, and as "the Legend of the Saints of Cupid" assumes the character of a kind of calendar of women canonised by reason of their faithfulness to earthly love. But obviously this is a method of treatment belonging to an age, not to a single poem or poet. Chaucer's artistic judgment in the selection and arrangement of his themes, the wonderful vivacity and true pathos with which he turns upon Tarquin or Jason as if they had personally offended him, and his genuine flow of feeling not only FOR but WITH his unhappy heroines, add a new charm to the old familiar faces. Proof is thus furnished, if any proof were needed, that no story interesting in itself is too old to admit of being told again by a poet; in Chaucer's version Ovid loses something in polish, but nothing in pathos; and the breezy freshness of nature seems to be blowing through tales which became the delight of a nation's, as they have been that of many a man's, youth.
A single passage must suffice to illustrate the style of the "Legend of Good Women"; and it shall be the lament of Ariadne, the concluding passage of the story which is the typical tale of desertion, though not, as it remains in Chaucer, of desertion unconsoled. It will be seen how far the English poet's vivacity is from being extinguished by the pathos of the situation described by him.
Right in the dawening awaketh she, And gropeth in the bed, and found right naught.
"Alas," quoth she, "that ever I was wrought!
I am betrayed!" and her hair she rent, And to the strande barefoot fast she went, And criede: "Theseus, mine hearte sweet!
Where be ye, that I may not with you meet?
And mighte thus by beastes been y-slain!"
The hollow rockes answered her again.
No man she sawe; and yet shone the moon, And high upon a rock she wente soon, And saw his barge sailing in the sea.
Cold waxed her heart, and right thus said she:
"Meeker than ye I find the beastes wild!"
(Hath he not sin that he her thus beguiled?)
She cried, "O turn again for ruth and sin, Thy barge hath not all thy meinie in."Her kerchief on a pole sticked she, Askance, that he should it well y-see, And should remember that she was behind, And turn again, and on the strand her find.
But all for naught; his way he is y-gone, And down she fell aswoone on a stone;And up she rose, and kissed, in all her care, The steppes of his feet remaining there;And then unto her bed she speaketh so:
"Thou bed," quoth she, "that hast received two, Thou shalt answer for two, and not for one;Where is the greater part away y-gone?
Alas, what shall I wretched wight become?
For though so be no help shall hither come, Home to my country dare I not for dread, I can myselfe in this case not rede."Why should I tell more of her complaining?
It is so long it were a heavy thing.
In her Epistle Naso telleth all.
But shortly to the ende tell I shall.
The goddes have her holpen for pity, And in the sign of Taurus men may see The stones of her crown all shining clear.
I will no further speak of this matter.
But thus these false lovers can beguile Their true love; the devil quite him his while!
