We have the dream, the strings of proper names drawn from Ovid and Virgil and the Bible, the constant moralisations, the temple to which the dreamer is guided, the use of allegory and symbol, all of which are common property. The influence of Dante is evident, and shows itself in detail as well as in the conception of the whole. The method of beginning each book with an invocation, the exact marking of the date on which the poem was begun, the steep rock, the description of the house of Rumour, and numerous other points are borrowed direct from the _Divina Commedia_, while there is no need to emphasise the obvious resemblance between the general plan of Dante's great poem and the _Hous of Fame_. Professor Skeat even goes so far as to suggest that Lydgate is referring to the _Hous of Fame_ when he speaks of a poem of Chaucer's as "Dant in English." The poem is divided into three books. Book I opens with a discussion of dreams in general, what causes them and what weight should be attached to them:-- Why that is an avisioun And this a revelacioun. This is followed by an invocation to the god of sleep, and then comes the vision itself. The poet falls asleep on the tenth day of December, and dreams that he is in a temple of glass. On a tablet on the wall is engraved the history of "daun Eneas," and its recital occupies almost the whole of the book. When the poet has "seyen al this sighte" he passes out of the temple and finds himself in a desert place:-- Withouten toun, or hous, or tree Or bush, or gras, or cred[41] lond. * * * * * Ne I no maner creature That is y-formed by nature Ne saw. Terrified by the strangeness and loneliness of the place, he casts his eyes towards heaven, praying to be saved, Fro fantom and illusion, and as he looks upwards he becomes aware of a wonderful eagle with feathers of gold, flying towards him. Book II opens with further remarks on dreams, and a declaration that no one, not even Isaiah or Scipio or Nebuchadnezzar, ever had such a dream as this. The story then continues. The eagle swoops down upon the poet and catches him up in "his grimme pawes stronge,"-- Me caryinge in his clawes starke As lightly as I were a larke. Dazed and astonished, Chaucer almost loses consciousness, till he is recalled to life by the eagle, with "mannes voice," bidding him ... Awak And be not so a-gast for shame! and adding in a well-meant attempt to cheer him up,-- ... Seynte Marie! Thou art noyous for to carie.[42] He is then told that as a reward for his long and faithful service of Cupid-- Withoute guerdon ever yit, Jove has decreed that he is to be taken to the House of Fame:-- To do thee som disport and game, In som recompensacioun Of labour and devocioun. In Fame's palace he will hear more wonders in two hours than there are grains of corn in a granary, for every sound made upon earth,--