One of the most curious and interesting of Chaucer’s Poems is that
entitled ‘THE HOUSE OF FAME.’ It is of considerable length, being
divided into three books, comprising 2170 lines. Whether imitated, as
some critics have conjectured, from a foreign original (which however,
never has been produced), or constructed by the genius of our English
bard, with no further assistance than some hints in the Metamorphoses of
Ovid, it is at least equally valuable as a picture of the learning and
opinions, on many subjects, of Chaucer’s age, the latter part of the
fourteenth century. It is chiefly in reference to its value in this
respect, that we mean to notice it at present. We omit, therefore, any
analysis of the story, which would occupy more space than we can afford,
and which may be found accurately enough given in the 14th section of
‘Warton’s History of English Poetry.’ For a similar reason we shall not
stop to notice the poetical beauties in which the work abounds, although
some of them deserve to be ranked among the finest examples of romantic
loftiness of conception and splendour of colouring.
If it were necessary to prove, contrary to some of the accounts of the
invention, that gunpowder was known a considerable time before the close
of the fourteenth century, a passage in this poem would show that its
use in the charging of fire-arms was already familiar. In book iii. l.
553, the sound is represented as rushing from the trump of Æolus
“As swift as pellet out of gun
When fire is in the powder run.”
An engine, probably warlike, for projecting stones, is afterwards
alluded to at line 843, where a particular noise is compared to
“The routing[2] of the stone
That fro the engine is letten gone.”
But one of the most curious passages in the poem is that in the second
book, in which the author unfolds the leading principles of the natural
philosophy then in vogue. It is too long to be quoted entire; but we
shall give the most material parts of it, only taking the liberty of
modernising the spelling where the pronunciation is not thereby
affected. The discourse takes the form of an address to the poet
himself, from one of the personages of the poem, and begins with the
ancient explanation of the phenomena of gravitation. “Geffrey,” says the
speaker, in substance, “thou knowest well that every thing in nature
hath a natural station in which it may be best preserved and that hither
every thing by its natural inclination striveth to come whenever it is
not already there.” He then proceeds:--
“As thus, lo! thou may’st all day see,
Take any thing that heavy be,
As stone, or lead, or thing of weight,
And bear it ne’er so high on height;
Let go thine hand--it falleth down;
Right so, I say, by fire or soun’,
Or smoke, or other thinges light,
Alway they seek upward on height.
Light things up, and heavy down charge,
While every of them be at large.
And for this cause thou may’st well see
That every river to the sea
Inclined is to go by kind:
And by these skillés[3], as I find,
Have fishes dwelling in flood and sea,
And trees eke on the earthé be.
Thus every thing by his reasòn
Hath his own proper mansiòn,
To which he seeketh to repair,” &c.
He then goes on, as follows, to explain the philosophy of sound, with
more correctness than many may perhaps be prepared to expect:--
“Sound is nought but air y-broken;
And every speeché that is spoken,
Whether loud or privy, foul or fair,
In his substance ne is but air;
For as flame is but lighted smoke,
Right so is sound but air y-broke.
But this may be in many wise,
Of the which I will thee devise,
As sound cometh of pipe or harp;
For when a pipe is blowén sharp
The air is twist with violènce,
And rent;--lo! this is my sentènce:--
Eke, when that men harp-stringés smite,
Whether that it be much or lite[4]
Lo! with the stroke the air it breaketh;
And right so breaketh it when men speaketh.”
A few lines after, the following account is given of the spreading of
sound, which, so far as it goes, is unexceptionable:--
“If that thou
Throw in a water now a stone,
Well wottest thou it will make anon
A little roundel as a circle,
Per’venture as broad as a covèrcle[5];
And right anon thou shalt see weel
That circle cause another wheel,
And that the third, and so forth, brother,
Every circle causing other
Much broader than himselfen was;
And thus, from roundel to compàss,
Each abouten othèr going
Y-causeth of othèrs stirrìng,
And multiplying evermo,
Till that it be so far y-go
That it at bothé brinkés be....
And right thus every word, I wis,
That loud or privy spoken is,
Y-moveth first an air about,
And of his moving, out of doubt,
Another air anon is moved,
As I have of the water proved
That every circle causeth other;
Right so of air, my lievé[6] brother,
Every air another stirreth
More and more, and speech upbeareth,
Or voice, or noise, or word, or soun’,
Aye through multiplication.”
Pope, it may be recollected, has introduced this illustration (although
in a different part of the narrative) into his Temple of Fame. This poem
he wrote in his twenty-third year; and he acknowledges the hint to have
been taken from this work of Chaucer’s, although he states that the
design is in a manner entirely altered, and the descriptions and most of
the particular thoughts his own. It will be found, however, that rather
more than half of Pope’s poem is borrowed from that of Chaucer. But
Chaucer’s work is altogether more than four times as long as Pope’s.
There is a long passage in the second book of Chaucer’s ‘House of Fame,’
(l. 106-152,) which is exceedingly interesting as giving us an account
of the domestic habits of the poet himself. On the same subject may be
consulted a shorter passage in book iii. 920-930.
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Footnote 2:
_i.e._ roaring.
Footnote 3:
_i.e._ reasons.
Footnote 4:
_i.e._ little.
Footnote 5:
_i.e._ pot-lid.
Footnote 6:
_i.e._ dear.
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