ales by a more interesting chapter of history, and then to
bind the tales themselves together lightly and naturally in days, like
rows of pearls in a collar. But while in the "Decamerone" the
framework in its relation to the stories is of little or no
significance, in the "Canterbury Tales" it forms one of the most
valuable organic elements in the whole work. One test of the
distinction is this: what reader of the "Decamerone" connects any of
the novels composing it with the personality of the particular
narrator, or even cares to remember the grouping of the stories as
illustrations of fortunate or unfortunate, adventurous or illicit,
passion? The charm of Boccaccio's book, apart from the independent
merits of the Introduction, lies in the admirable skill and unflagging
vivacity with which the "novels" themselves are told. The scheme of the
"Canterbury Tales," on the other hand, possesses some genuinely
dramatic elements. If the entire form, at all events in its extant
condition, can scarcely be said to have a plot, it at least has an
EXPOSITION unsurpassed by that of any comedy, ancient or modern; it has
the possibility of a growth of action and interest; and (which is of
far more importance, it has a variety of characters which mutually both
relieve and supplement one another. With how sure an instinct, by the
way, Chaucer has anticipated that unwritten law of the modern drama
according to which low comedy characters always appear in couples!
Thus the "Miller" and the "Reeve" are a noble pair running in parallel
lines, though in contrary directions; so are the "Cook" and the
"Manciple," and again and more especially the "Friar" and the
"Summoner." Thus at least the germ of a comedy exists in the plan of
the "Canterbury Tales." No comedy could be formed out of the mere
circumstance of a company of ladies and gentlemen sitting down in a
country-house to tell an unlimited number of stories on a succession of
topics; but a comedy could be written with the purpose of showing how a
wide variety of national types will present themselves, when brought
into mutual contact by an occasion peculiarly fitted to call forth
their individual rather than their common characteristics.

For not only are we at the opening of the "Canterbury Tales" placed in
the very heart and centre of English life; but the poet contrives to
find for what may be called his action a background, which seems of
itself to suggest the most serious emo