to inform him in what country he may be. He finds that the
surrounding district is a desert as far as the eye can reach, without
house, tree, herbage, or living creature, till gazing upwards he beholds
an eagle aloft in the sky.

It was of gold, and shone so bright
That never saw men such a sight,
But if the heaven had ywon
All new of God another sun.

The book concludes with the announcement that the gorgeous eagle began
somewhat to descend, and this is followed in the second book by the bird
catching sight of Chaucer, and stooping upon him with the rapidity of
lightning. In an instant it catches him up in its claws, and "as lightly
as if he was a lark" soars with him into the clouds. He swoons with
fright, and is restored to consciousness by the eagle calling him by
name, and rebuking him for his fears. Having calmed him, the bird
informs him why he has been sent to fetch him, and bear him aloft into
the skies. Chaucer more than once confesses that he was not framed to
win affection. He says he did "not dare to love for his unlikeliness,"
and that he might "go in the dance" with those whom it had not been
Cupid's pleasure to prosper. Yet his quick and glowing sympathies had
led him to employ his genius in celebrating a blessing of which he had
tasted so sparingly, and he is now told that his disinterested service
to Venus and Cupid, in devoting the hours of night to composing poems on
the histories of lovers till his head aches, has attracted the notice of
Jupiter, who intends to reward him by admitting him to a view of the
palace of Fame. The eagle continues rising upwards with his burthen, and
expounds to Chaucer as they go the situation of the building, and the
means by which everything said and done on earth is known in the distant
sanctuary of the goddess. Arrived there, the winged messenger of Jupiter
sets the poet down, and bidding him farewell, expresses a hope that the
God of heaven will send him grace to learn some good from the scenes
which are about to be unveiled to him. The third book contains the
account of the House of Fame, and the House of Rumour, and despite the
previous announcement of the extraordinary disclosures which await him,
Chaucer has copied several of his leading ideas from Ovid and Virgil. In
the House of Fame he witnesses the caprice with which the goddess
dispenses reputation and disgrace; and in the House of Rumour he learns
that nothing can exceed the lying and dec