Chaucer's Works, Volume 2 — Boethius and Troilus — A Reader’s Guide

Skeat's Scholarly Frame

Skeat's introduction occupies nearly fifty pages, detailing the date, sources, manuscripts, and textual history of each work. For Boethius, he traces Chaucer's translation method, noting mistakes and borrowings from Jean de Meun. For Troilus, he discusses Boccaccio's Filostrato as the primary source and the mysterious 'Lollius.' A first reader may find this apparatus daunting, but it offers a transparent view of how the text was constructed. Skeat's notes, placed after the poems, gloss Middle English words and cite parallel passages. The frontispiece—a facsimile of a manuscript page—reinforces the volume's status as a critical edition.

Boethius: Prose and Poetry in Dialogue

The Consolation alternates between prose sections (the narrator's complaints and Philosophy's arguments) and metrical poems (the narrator's songs). In Book I, the narrator laments his exile in verse, then Philosophy responds in prose, diagnosing his sickness as forgetfulness of true good. This rhythm creates a pedagogical drama: the reader follows the narrator's gradual reorientation from worldly grief to philosophical understanding. Chaucer's prose is direct, often literal, but occasionally awkward—Skeat notes several mistranslations. The metra (verse sections) employ rhyme and meter, offering a lyrical counterpoint. A first reader might attend to how the form itself enacts the movement from emotion to reason.

Troilus: Criseyde's Deliberation

In the excerpt from Book II (stanzas 102–115), Criseyde weighs whether to love Troilus. Her soliloquy reveals a shrewd, self-aware mind: she considers his worth, her own freedom, and the risks of scandal. The passage is structured as a series of conditional arguments ('Now set a cas...'), punctuated by proverbial wisdom ('In every thing, I woot, ther lyth mesure'). The simile of the March cloud (lines 765–770) dramatizes her shifting emotions. Chaucer gives her a voice that is both rational and vulnerable, making her decision feel like a genuine moral dilemma. A first reader should note how this interiority contrasts with the more external action of Book I.

The Cloud and the Sun: Imagery of Uncertainty

Recurring imagery of light and shadow links the two texts. In Boethius, Philosophy promises to dispel the 'clouds' of error; in Troilus, Criseyde's 'cloudy thought' overspreads her 'brighte thoughtes.' The March sun that 'chaungeth ofte tyme his face' mirrors the instability of love. These images are not merely decorative—they structure the reader's experience of uncertainty. In Boethius, the movement is toward clarity; in Troilus, the cloud may never fully lift. A first reader attuned to this pattern will see how Chaucer adapts Boethian consolation to a narrative where happiness is fleeting.

Reading these works together, a first-time reader benefits from Skeat's notes but should not let them overshadow the texts themselves. The Consolation rewards slow, patient reading, while Troilus demands attention to character and voice. The volume's structure—philosophy first, then poetry—suggests a progression, but the excerpts show that both works grapple with fortune, free will, and human suffering. Let the texts speak; the apparatus is a guide, not a substitute.

Some evenings, I still recall how Chaucer’s Boece murmurs against Criseyde’s wavering, prose and verse trading the same anxious breath. That measured struggle finds a quieter echo in The Hound of Heaven — Text and Context, where a soul’s flight and pursuit feel less like doctrine than a held sigh. Two books, keeping each other company on my shelf.