‘With that the water in hire yhe Aros, that sche ne myhte it stoppe, And as men sen the dew bedroppe The leves and the floures eke, Riht so upon hire whyte cheke The wofull salte teres felle. Whan Collatin hath herd hire telle The menynge of hire trewe herte, Anon with that to hire he sterte, And seide, “Lo, mi goode diere, Nou is he come to you hiere, That ye most loven, as ye sein.” And sche with goodly chiere ayein Beclipte him in hire armes smale, And the colour, which erst was pale, To Beaute thanne was restored, So that it myhte noght be mored’ (vii. 4830 ff.), a passage in which Gower, with his natural taste for simplicity, has again improved upon his classical authority, and may safely challenge comparison with Chaucer, who has followed Ovid more literally. It is worth mention that Gower’s descriptions of storms at sea are especially vivid and true, so that we are led to suppose that he had had more than a mere literary acquaintance with such things. Such for instance is the account of the shipwreck of the Greek fleet, iii. 981 ff., and of the tempests of which Apollonius is more than once the victim, as viii. 604 ff., and in general nautical terms and metaphors, of some of which the meaning is not quite clear, seem to come readily from his pen. Next to the simple directness of narrative style which distinguishes the stories themselves, we must acknowledge a certain attractiveness in the setting of them. The Lover decidedly engages our interest: we can understand his sorrows and his joys, his depression when his mistress will not listen to the verses which he has written for her, and his delight when he hears men speak her praises. We can excuse his frankly confessed envy, malice and hatred in all matters which concern his rivals in her love. His feelings are described in a very natural manner, the hesitation and forgetfulness in her presence, and the self-reproach afterwards, the eagerness to do her small services, to accompany her to mass, to lift her into her saddle, to ride by her carriage, the delight of being present in her chamber, of singing to her or reading her the tale of Troilus, or if no better may be, of watching her long and slender fingers at work on her weaving or embroidery. Sometimes she will not stay with him, and then he plays with the dog or with the birds in the cage, and converses with the page of her chamber--anything as an excuse to stay; and when it grows late and he must perforce depart, he goes indeed, but returns with the pretence of having forgotten something, in order that he may bid her good-night once more. He rises in the night and looks out of his window over the houses towards the chamber where she sleeps, and loses himself in imagination of the love-thefts which he would commit if by any necromancy he had the power. Yet he is not extravagantly romantic: he will go wherever his lady bids him, but he will not range the world