The reclothing of the bare earth after winter in the mantle of Flora is a common motif in the spring-opening (for which see FL 1–14).

It was not unusual for a beautiful lady to be described as a masterpiece of Nature’s handiwork (e.g., Chaucer’s description of Virginia in the Physician’s Tale, VI.9), but God the Creator is not so commonly invoked. The daringly suggestive use of religious imagery and allusion in relation to sexual love, which was fraught with irony and a sense of dangerous transgression in the best of the earlier poetry (e.g., Troilus and Criseyde), seems to have declined here to a more straightforward conceit.

huntinge is often associated with love-visions, partly because of the opportunities it gives for allusion to the hounds of desire, wounded h(e)arts, etc. See 2172–76.

halfe on slepe. Medieval authorities on dreams thought that the moments between waking and slumber produced particularly vivid dreams.

what I dreamed. The idea that the dream was as real as real experience (see also 43–50) and occurred in a state not much different from waking is familiar in the discussions of dreams which frequently appear in dream-poems (e.g., Chaucer’s House of Fame 1–58).

axes and heale: one of the traditional paradoxes (cf. fire and freezing cold) of the oxymoron of love.

The assertion that the dream has an oracular significance, beyond that of a mere dream, echoes similar assertions in the Romaunt of the Rose, 11–20, and of course Chauntecler’s discussion of dreams in the Nun’s Priest’s Tale.

There is a degree of sophisticated self-consciousness in the dreamer’s recognition of the appropriateness of what he is doing to what is conventionally done.

slepe wrightter: ‘sleep-writer’ is rather charming, but it sounds modern, and one suspects that slepe is a form of or a mistake for slepye (the reading of the other manuscript of IL). The sense would not be ‘somnolent’ but ‘sleeping’ (note the contrast with on that wakinge is in line 62) or ‘having to do with sleep.’

The apology for the writer’s boysteousnes is a conventional ‘modesty-topos,’ employed with especial frequency by Lydgate; but it is unusual for the writer to suggest that he be excused because he is relating a dream, or that the reader should take no notice of his lack of skill (usually the reader is asked to emend or correct where he sees fit). As often, the tone suggests not ignorance of the conventions but a carelessly sophisticated mock-naiveté somewhat reminiscent of Chaucer.

an ylle. Courtly love-visions are occasionally located on islands, but paradisal islands inhabited only by women are particularly characteristic of the Celtic tradition of the ‘maidenland’ (see Daly, ed. IL, pp. 50–54).

of glasse. There are temples of glass in Chaucer’s The House of Fame and of course in Lydgate’s Temple of Glass, as also in Stephen Hawes’s Pastime of Pleasure, which has many palaces like this one.

closed. Both the traditional garden of love (e.g., Romaunt of the Rose 138) and the allegorical garden of female chastity and beauty (as here, and in the hortus conclusus of the Song of Songs) are conventionally enclosed by a wall.

fannes: decorative weathervanes are a feature of late fifteenth-century palaces, both real and feigned (see AL 161). Musical weathervanes of solid gold, in thousands, with pairs of artificial singing birds set upon them, are a touch of fantasy (though they recall the hydraulically-operated birds that adorned the emperor’s throne in Byzantium).

The flowers carved on the towers, like other features of the palace, suggest both beauty and a degree of unnaturalness in the artifice, as may be appropriate to the allegory.

all and womanhed: an unusual phrase, but cf. ‘all and some’ (as in line 208).

she nas younge. There seems no particular reason in the allegory why the lady should be elderly; indeed she ought not to be, given the power of the three apples. There may be some allusion to real life, whether casual and general (she is a kind of governess to this troupe of girls) or covert and specific.

Benedicite. See AL 148n.

fortunes purveaunce. The narrator hints here at a complaint against Fortune, for her fickle treatment of him, despite his truth (197), presumably in love. It is conventional, and has to do with what follows, but in relation to his arrival on the isle it is a little uncomplimentary to the ladies.

all that vironed is withe see: i.e., the whole world, which was represented in maps as a single land-mass surrounded by ocean, and not, of course, the Isle of the poem.

in one clothinge: may suggest a livery, or form of dress worn by all the members of a particular household.

on a roche. The location of the ‘heavenly hermitage’ is rather like the dwelling place of Fortune in the Romaunt of the Rose (5921), a rocky island way out in the sea.

apples three. The golden apples of the Hesperides, also the object of a quest, are the best known otherworldly apples, but the closest parallels are in Irish literature, from which Daly (ed. IL, p. 294) cites the story of the land of Emne, famous for its apple trees, a land of women where all live free from grief, sickness, and death.

nexst. It is hard to see how the apple that is highest on the tree can be nearest (nexst) to the observer.

leche: a term usually thought appropriate to the relationship of a lady to her lover.

our brother frinde: ‘our brother’s friend.’ This can only refer to the dreamer, but the queen is not supposed to know at this point of the existence and presence of the dreamer.

a world of ladyes. Cf. FL 137.

playe. The playfulness is of course related to the delicacy of the commission and the entrusting of it to the aged lady, who will not be so much affected by its delicacy. This aged lady understands the implication, as we see by her smile (481).

sowninge. The swooning is a good sign: it indicates that the knight is truly noble and gentle at heart. It is not a sign of unmanly weakness, as modern readers often assume, for example in relation to Troilus’s swoon (Troilus, III.1092).

The queen’s anxiety is reminiscent of that of Criseyde in Troilus II.459–62, and witnesses to a similar struggle between the restraint demanded by an honorable reputation and the fear that excessively severe behavior may do even more harm to that reputation. It is a classic little cameo of internal sentimental debate.

The knight’s speechlessness is like that of Troilus, when Criseyde comes to his bedside. Troilus, similarly, for all his prepared speeches, can manage only the reiterated cry for mercy (Troilus, III.98).

To thi dishonour. It will be to death’s dishonor if he dies since death prides himself on opposing man’s will to live.

His cowardice must be his unmanly behavior in trying to seize the queen by force (line 384).

Cf. Troilus, II.541: ‘And gan to motre, I noot what . . . .’

The queen’s sympathy and care for the knight is richly balanced against her refusal to make any personal commitment to him other than that of womanly compassion.

Aftercastelles: refers to the elaborate wooden structures built high above deck, in this case aft (cf. forecastle), in ships of the late Middle Ages.

toppes: railed platforms at the head of a mast.

Smale burdes. The real birds that accompany Love’s navy make a nice allegorical contrast with the artificial singing-birds that decorate the island-fortress of the ladies (line 78).

good langauge. In the past, pleasant non-committal words have been enough to keep prospective suitors at bay, as we saw with the queen and the knight (569–82, 644–58).

walles of glasse are an insubstantial defense against the entry of love.

The portrayal of the God of Love, and especially of his fierce power to wound the heart, owes much to the Roman de la Rose (see Romaunt, especially 1723–29).

Note the use of the second person singular pronoun in this speech, implying the close relationship of lord to servant. Elsewhere in the poem the more polite and formal second person plural is used, except in the knight’s apostrophe to death (607–17), where the singular is suggestive of contempt, and the poet’s address to his heart (2215–35), where it conveys intimacy.

his owne lodginge. Pity’s natural dwelling-place is the lady’s heart, as medieval poets reiterate constantly.

by requeste. There is an explicit contrast between what the God of Love commands of others and what he requests of the poet’s lady.

consentes: the Northern dialectal form of the imperative plural.

that mightye saynte. The God of Love is called Seynt Amour in the Romaunt of the Rose 6781. The poet of IL does not make much of these religious associations (see 10n); he treats the God of Love more as a feudal lord than as a divinity.

So thowght I. This introduces the alternative to the first, more cheerful thought of line 883 (as I thowght).

the yere of grace. A play on words: the ‘year of grace’ is when he will win his lady’s favor; it is also a form of reference to the year in the Christian era, anno gratiae (cf. anno domini).

A byll. For a discussion of such bills and their presence in poems of this kind see AL 325n.

his sleve. The capacious hanging sleeves that were part of the fashionable costume of the time must have been very handy on occasions such as these.

flowers. The wearing of flowers, especially chaplets of flowers, was commonly associated with the service of love. See Romaunt of the Rose 887–917. FL has some variations on the convention.

old romansys. The reading of romances is an aristocratic pastime frequently alluded to in love-poetry. So Pandarus composes himself ‘as for to looke upon an old romaunce’ (Troilus III.980), and the narrator of The Book of the Duchess bids one pass him a book, a ‘romaunce,’ to ‘drive the night away’ (47–49). See here, 977.

the spere: that one of the concentric spheres surrounding the earth in which the sun was fixed and which caused the sun’s (apparent) movement.

up in the eyer: presumably upon some raised platform or scaffold, such as would be erected for a tournament, as in the Knight’s Tale, I.2533.

The statutes of the God of Love are frequently alluded to, as in the classic text, the De Arte Honeste Amandi of the late 12th-century Andreas Capellanus, or in the Romaunt of the Rose 2175 ff., where Love gives his ‘comaundementis’ (2137), or, more playfully, in the early 16th-century Chaucerian pastiche, The Court of Love. There are some examples of love’s commandments in the present poet’s Envoy to his heart (2215–35).

as wood man. These lines (1150–66) allegorize the stifling feeling of panic that the lover experiences at the fear of losing his lady.

wave: overthrowghe. The original rhyme must have been wawe: overthrawe, the latter form one of several indications of the northern or north midland provenance of the original poet.

my testament. Troilus likewise advises Pandarus of his funeral arrangements when he fears he has lost his lady (Troilus, V.295–315).

of her apples. This is the second time the lady has used one of her apples (cf. 401) for purposes of resuscitation.

in my sleve. See 943n.

He that all joyes, etc. Such references are commonly ambiguous in love-poetry, but here the allusion is clearly (see line 1216) to the Creator, not the God of Love.

on consyte. The phrase is problematic, and the interpretation offered here, taking consyte as a form of conceit (opinion, view), is one of a number of possibilities.

a chaumbre painte. Rooms decorated with narrative wall-paintings are a favorite feature of love-vision poems. See AL 456n. For their significance here, see 2172–74.

The waking from the dream in the smoke-filled room, the change of location and return to the dream are an unusual and effective device for renewing the impetus and interest of the narrative. Only Piers Plowman comes to mind as a poem which makes similar use of connected but separate dreams (eight in number, in that case).

In speaking of the barge of manes thowght, the poet is making an explicit allegory of one of the most universal of metaphors for the inner life of thought and imagination: the opening lines of Dante’s Purgatorio, or of Book II of Troilus, are famous examples, as is the Petrarch sonnet adapted by Sir Thomas Wyatt in ‘My galley charged with forgetfulness.’

The allegorical suggestion here is that the queen is active in the knight’s inner life.

nether mast ne rother. Rudderless boats are common in folk-literature, and are especially associated with journeys to the otherworld in Celtic tradition.

Failure to keep to the letter a promise to return to one’s lady by a set date was a mortal sin in love-romance. Chrétien’s Yvain spends the greater part of the romance of Yvain regretting and expiating just such a failure. Here the knight could hardly complain that the matter was not made quite clear (1361–72). More generally, plots that rely on the consequences of the violation of a prohibition are very common in folk-literature.

The boat’s miraculous capacity: Daly (ed. IL, pp. 313–14) compares the story of the shirt of Joseph of Arimathaea in Robert de Boron’s History of the Holy Grail (translated into English in the early 15th century by Herry Lovelich), in which 150 sail to Britain.

sayd was the crede. It was customary to offer prayers for a safe voyage before setting out.

an open weye. The phrase has a strong suggestion of female promiscuity, explicit in the proverb alluded to in Piers Plowman, C.III.167, where the maiden Meed is ‘As comyn as the cartway to knaves and to alle.’

thrise . . . twise. What looks like an arcane bit of administrative detail is certainly due, like much in the poem, to nothing more than the exigencies of rhyme.

nonnes . . . blacke: an abbey of Benedictine nuns.

An erb. The most striking analogue for this episode is in the Lai d’Eliduc of Marie de France (twelfth century), where a dead weasel is restored to life by its mate with a magic plant. The plant is then used to revive the maiden Guillardon. The motif of an animal reviving its companion or mate with a magic herb is widespread, especially in Celtic tradition, as in Marie. The animals are most often snakes.

of ther lord. Presumably the sight of the lady brings to the minds of the assembled company (mostly the knight’s retinue, since the ladies are all dead or dying) the sad fate of their lord.

Thre. The bird sang thre songes (1832), and so there are three greynes. The scene is reminiscent of the Prioress’s Tale, where the greyn on his tongue keeps the child miraculously alive after his throat has been cut.

The queen takes over the role of the abbess, and thus acts out literally her metaphorical role as leche to the knight.

of ladyes . . . a rowte. The two partes (two thirds) of the ladies who died (1649–52) are now restored to life.

parlament. For the difference between an assemble (1971) and a parlament, see AL 720n.

Seynt John to borowe: a formulaic prayer to ward off bad luck, as at leavetaking or the making of promises. Cf. Squire’s Tale, V.596.

in tentes. Great outdoor feasts were commonly held in tented pavilions.

the soveraynge above: i.e., the God of Love, whose commands to the lady were outlined in 803–77.

him: i.e., the dreamer.

churche perochiall. The dreamer’s care to affirm that he was married, in his dream, in a tent which was actually his own proper parish church, is of a piece, in its wry pragmatism, with the frustration he accepts in being the only one who does not get to sleep with his lady.

The moment of sudden waking is often carefully prepared for in dream-poems (see AL 726n), and the noise of singing and music is a frequent motif in such awakenings, as in Lydgate’s Temple of Glass. Here the noise of music at the wedding disturbs the dreamer’s sleep, and it is natural that he should wish to be present in person at his own marriage feast.

For the appropriateness of such hunting-scenes to the lover’s situation, see 20n.

Lo here . . . lo here: echoes Troilus, V.1849–55.

cognisaunce . . . preve. There is a legal conceit here, alluding to the difference between acknowledgement of an alleged fact and the evidential demonstration of its truth.

His. Other texts and editors have her, which makes better sense, but is clearly not a harder reading, and thus may be one that a scribe may well have preferred. The sense of ‘His’ would be rather audacious: that dwelling in his lady’s grace would be to dwell also in God’s.

Go forthe. The apostrophe in such epilogues is usually to the poet’s litel bok (as in Troilus, V.1786). The poet here works a rather neat variation on the convention, apostrophizing his heart and swearing upon his book as if it were a bible.

you. The appropriateness of the use of the second person singular in the poet’s address to his heart has been noted (794n). It is hard to tell whether this anomalous you is the poet’s or the scribe’s slip.

The religious allusion is nicely pointed: falsehood leads to a fall from grace which loses the promise of bliss.

For his Envoy, or epilogue, the poet turns from the octosyllabic couplet to the pentameter, as do Gower and Lydgate on similar occasions. The first stanza, addressed to the lady, is a sixain in couplets, and is independent in both dramatic and metrical form from the rest. The other three stanzas are in rhyme royal, with repeated last line as in the true envoy, and are addressed to his heart. There is no reason to think that lines 2209–35 were not part of the original poem of IL.

fall: i.e., the fall from grace mentioned in 2233.

These last two lines were added in a different hand. Though they appear in all three early texts, they are very probably a spurious addition. The hand that adds the final hopeful attribution (only in the Longleat manuscript) has also crossed out the earlier Finis.