hews through all
armour, and with its "plat" heals the else incurable wounds of its own
inflicting--the Mirror, which discloses the plotting of the kingdom's
enemies, the truth or disloyalty of a distant lover--the Ring, which
enables its wearer to understand the "leden" of all birds, and to answer
them in the same--and the marvellous Horse of Brass, which, with turning
of a pin, and with a whisper in the ear, carries his rider whither he
would through the air, vanishes and comes with a wish, and, farthermore,
behaves and comports himself wholly after the best fashion of a
horse;--these four gifts from the King of Arabie and Inde to the Tartar
king and his daughter, transport us, as with a flight of the magical
courser himself, into the deep, wild, and mystical heart of that region,
unplaced by geographers, explored by the host of dreamers, Romance. So,
the love-story of the forsaken Bird, with whom the Ring brings the
Princess acquainted, is Eastern, is amorous, is high-fantastical, fit for
the 'lover and lusty bacheler,' who

----"Coude songes make, and well indite,
Juste and eke dance"--

and stands off in complete distinction from the love-debate, with
argumentation and with arms, of Palamon and Arcite. What is it, then, that
we would have more? Truly, we fear, that for once we are half
unreasonable. The Tale, with beginning, middle, and end, to satisfy the
heart of Aristotle, in the Knight's mouth--and the finely-begun fragment
in the Squire's--are, by their temper, allied and opposed, quite up to the
dramatic propriety of the two speakers. What would we have more? Simply
this, that Chaucer, by carrying to an end the unfinished fiction in the
tone in which he has begun it, should have demonstrated himself the master
of his art, which, by his project, he seems to be. The Knight's is a
love-tale, as well; but there is, in the love-story, an involving of
political interests, which, together with the known historical names, or
such as are so reputed, tempers the romantic, confers a gravity, and mixes
in a tone of the world's business that suits the sedate reason, and the
various observation of the veteran warrior, tried in high services. It
would have been a pleasant feat of poetical understanding and skill,
especially for that unpractised day, if a second equally gallant recital
of love and war--long and complex it would, by the intimations thrown out,
have been--could have been pursued throughout its natural ev