That Chaucer loved it, we know from one of the too rare autobiographical passages in his poems, describing his shy seclusion even more plainly than the Host hints at it in the "Canterbury Tales." The "House of Fame" is a serio-comic poem modelled vaguely on Dante's "Comedia," in which a golden eagle carries Chaucer up to heaven, and, like Beatrice, plays the part of Mentor all the while. The poet, who was at first somewhat startled by the sudden rush through the air, and feared lest he might have been chosen as an unworthy successor to Enoch and Elias, is presently quieted by the Eagle's assurance that this temporary apotheosis is his reward as the Clerk of Love--
Love holdeth it great humbleness, And virtue eke, that thou wilt make A-night full oft thy head to ache, In thy study so thou writest And ever more of Love enditest.
The Ruler of the Gods, therefore, has taken pity on the poet's lonely life--
That is, that thou hast no tidings Of Lovë's folk, if they be glad, Nor of nothing ellës that God made: And not only from far countree, Whence no tiding cometh to thee, But of thy very neighëbores That dwellen almost at thy doors, Thou hearest neither that nor this; For, when thy labour done all is, And hast y-made thy reckonings, Instead of rest and newë things Thou go'st home to thy house anon, And, all so dumb as any stone, Thou sittest at another book Till fully dazed is thy look, And livest thus as an heremite, Although thy abstinence is lite.[111] [little
Here we have the central figure of the Aldgate Chamber, but what was the background? Was his room, as some will have it, such as that to which his eyes opened in the "Book of the Duchess"?
And sooth to say my chamber was Full well depainted, and with glass Were all the windows well y-glazed Full clear, and not one hole y-crazed, [cracked That to behold it was great joy; For wholly all the story of Troy Was in the glazing y-wrought thus ... And all the walls with colours fine Were painted, bothë text and glose, [commentary And all the Romance of the Rose. My windows weren shut each one And through the glass the sunnë shone Upon my bed with brightë beams....