Thogh hit were pyped of a mouse, rises up there, multiplied and increased. Having concluded a learned disquisition on the properties of air, water, and sound--which he explains, he has kindly simplified in order to bring it within the grasp of a "lewed[43] man"--the eagle bears the poet through the stars and past all manner of "eyrish bestes" until they reach the House of Fame. Here Chaucer is set upon his feet--much to his relief--and is told to enter; he is further warned that every sound which rises from earth may be not only heard but seen, since it takes the form of whatever made it. Book III opens with an invocation to Apollo. The poet then climbs the steep rock of ice on which the palace stands, noticing as he passes the names of famous men cut in the ice and rapidly thawing away in the sun. At the summit is a wonderful castle of beryl stone, and all round it crowd ... alle maner of minstrales And gestiours,[44] that tellen tales Bothe of weping and of game, Of al that longeth unto Fame. Amongst these are all the famous harpers and singers of old days, and close by stand ... hem that maken blody soun In trumpe, beme[45] and clarioun. A curiously carved gate gives admission to the castle, and entering, Chaucer finds a large number of knights-at-arms pouring out of a great hall. The hall itself is plated half a fote thikke Of gold ... and set with precious stones. Here the Lady Fame sits on a throne, her feet resting on earth and her head touching the heavens. The nine Muses sing her praises eternally, and on either side of her are pillars on which stand the historian Josephus and the poets Statius, Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Lucan, and Claudian:-- The halle was al ful y-wis, Of hem that writen olde gestes, As ben on trees rokes nestes. Suddenly a great noise is heard, and there bursts into the hall a multitude of people of every race and every condition come to prefer their requests to Fame. Some beg "That thou graunte us now good fame, And lete our werkes han that name; In ful recompensacioun Of good werk, give us good renoun;" others said "Mercy, lady dere! To telle certain, as hit is, We han don neither that ne this But ydel al our lyf y-be. But, natheles, yit preye we, That we mowe han so good a fame And greet renoun and knowen name, As they that han don nobel gestes ..." others-- "But certeyn they were wonder fewe," cried "Certes, lady brighte, We han don wel with al our mighte; But we ne kepen have no fame. Hyd our werkes and our name, For goddes love! for certes we Han certeyn doon hit for bountee And for no maner other thing."