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ENGLISH LITERATURE

FROM CHAUCER TO MARLOWE.

CHAPTER I.

LITERATURE IN ENGLAND BEFORE CHAUCER.

Reasons for

beginning a English Litehistory of rature with

Chaucer.

As Chaucer was the first English poet who used a language that we can all read, we begin our account of the history of English Literature with him. But since the origins of many of the subjects and forms that have played, and still play, a great part in our literature are to be found in the work of writers living during the six hundred years before the birth of Chaucer, it is well to survey briefly what they accomplished. We must not, however, lose sight of the fact that they wrote either in Latin, or in a form of English so different from the English of to-day that, to read their works, we must study the language as we should a foreign tongue.

The earliest forms of

literature.

Among the northern peoples the very earliest writings were cut in pieces of the bark of trees. The beech (O.E. boc) was often chosen for that purpose, probably on account of its smooth bark, and thence we derive our word book. Such a method was cumbersome and slow, and thus by far the larger part of the literature had to be preserved in men's memories. The first poets were the gleemen who wandered "through the lands of many men, as their fate wills" they carried harps on which they accompanied themselves when they sang or chanted the poems they

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it runs through all English poetry, and is still a living force in our national life, and in our verse.

The form of old English poetry was very different from the verse-forms to which we are now accustomed. There were no rimes, the lines were very short and depended for rhythm on alliteration1 and accent. The following will serve for an example

A horse bitted

With curling crest.
The careful prince
Went worthily;

Warriors marched also

Shining with shields.

The water welled blood,
The warriors gazed
On the hot heart's-blood,
While the horn sang

A doleful death-note.

Mr. William Morris's translation of Beowulf is as literal as may be, and the lines describing the lurkingplace of the fiends will give some idea of what the old English poetry was like.

They dwell in a dim hidden land,
The wolf-bents they bide in, on the nesses the windy,
The perilous fen-path where the stream of the fell-side
'Midst the mist of the nesses wends netherward ever,
The flood under earth. Naught far away hence,
But a mile-mark forsooth, there standeth the mere,
And over it ever hang groves all berimed,
The wood fast by the roots over-helmeth the water.
But each night may one a dread wonder there see,
A fire in the flood. But none liveth so wise
Of the bairns of mankind, that the bottom may know.
Although the heath-stepper beswinked by hounds,
The hart strong of horns, that holt-wood should seek to
Driven fleeing from far, he shall sooner leave life,

1 Several words in the line beginning with the same letter.

had composed or learned by heart. They were always welcome guests, for they invariably found "in the north or in the south some one who understands song". As verse is easier to remember, more effective to recite, and pleasanter to listen to than prose, it is not wonderful that those who undertook literary composition at that early period, should have preferred the poetical form, and thus it is that, in nearly every land, literature begins in poetry. The most important early poetical composition in which the English people have any concern is an epic called

"Beowulf",

the earliest poem inter

esting to the English peo

ple.

Beowulf. The events that it celebrates probably took place in the sixth century. In the poem, myth, legend, and history are mingled. The only manuscript known to exist is in the library of the British Museum; it was written in England probably about A.D. 1000. From internal evidence the writer seems to have been a Christian, perhaps a monk, who interpolated in his copy passages little in keeping with the characteristically pagan texture of the poem.

No record of the original author remains. The poem relates the deeds of a hero named Beowulf,

a world-king forsooth,

The mildest of all men, unto men kindest,

To his folk the most gentlest, most yearning of fame,

and is divided into two parts: the first part tells of Beowulf's deeds against the monster Grendel; the second, of Beowulf's conquest of the fire-dragon, of his death caused by the poisonous fire the creature breathed forth, and of his burial. The tale is grim and terrible, full of fights and evil deeds, unrelieved by either tenderness or humour. Its chief interest for us is that it offers a picture of the way in which our forefathers lived from the sixth to the eighth centuries both in war and in the rare intervals of peace, and tells us something of the manners and customs of the English before they came to England. In this way it may almost be regarded as a national epic. The sea forms the background of the poem, and love of the sea is essentially an attribute of the English people;

it runs through all English poetry, and is still a living force in our national life, and in our verse.

The form of old English poetry was very different from the verse-forms to which we are now accustomed. There were no rimes, the lines were very short and depended for rhythm on alliteration1 and accent. The following will serve for an example

A horse bitted

With curling crest.
The careful prince
Went worthily;

Warriors marched also

Shining with shields.

The water welled blood,
The warriors gazed
On the hot heart's-blood,
While the horn sang

A doleful death-note.

Mr. William Morris's translation of Beowulf is as literal as may be, and the lines describing the lurkingplace of the fiends will give some idea of what the old English poetry was like.

They dwell in a dim hidden land,
The wolf-bents they bide in, on the nesses the windy,
The perilous fen-path where the stream of the fell-side
'Midst the mist of the nesses wends netherward ever,
The flood under earth. Naught far away hence,
But a mile-mark forsooth, there standeth the mere,
And over it ever hang groves all berimed,
The wood fast by the roots over-helmeth the water.
But each night may one a dread wonder there see,
A fire in the flood. But none liveth so wise
Of the bairns of mankind, that the bottom may know.
Although the heath-stepper beswinked by hounds,
The hart strong of horns, that holt-wood should seek to
Driven fleeing from far, he shall sooner leave life,

1 Several words in the line beginning with the same letter.

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