We had almost forgotten that all the gods to whom prayers have been uttered and sacrifices offered were anything more than pagan gods. But now, by the reference to Saturn, “the pale Saturnus the colde” suggesting the dimness of his appearance in the sky, we are reminded that these gods are also planets.
But, to resume the story, Saturn finds the remedy for the embarrassing situation. He rehearses his powers and then tells Venus that her knight shall have his lady, but that Mars shall be able to help his knight also.
“‘My dere doghter Venus,’ quod Saturne,
‘My cours, that hath so wyde for to turne,
Hath more power that wot any man.
. . . . . . . . . .
Now weep namore, I shal doon diligence
That Palamon, that is thyn owne knight,
Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight.
Though Mars shal helpe his knight, yet nathelees
Bitwixe yow ther moot be som tyme pees,
Al be ye noght of o complexioun,
That causeth al day swich divisioun.’”[185]
When the appointed time for the tourney arrives, in order that no means of securing the god’s favor and so assuring success may be left untried, Arcite, with his knights, enters through the gate of Mars, his patron deity, and Palamon through that of Venus. Palamon is defeated in the fight but Saturn fulfills his promise to Venus by inducing Pluto to send an omen which frightens Arcite’s horse causing an accident in which Arcite is mortally injured. In the end Palamon wins Emelye.
Although the scene of this story is laid in ancient Athens, the characters are plainly mediaeval knights and ladies. Throughout the poem, as in many of Chaucer’s writings, there is a curious mingling of pagan and Christian elements, a strange juxtaposition of astrological notions, Greek anthropomorphism and mediaeval Christian philosophy. But pervading the whole is the idea of determinism, of the inability of the human will to struggle successfully against the destiny imposed by the powers of heaven, or against the capricious wills of the gods.
Chaucer had too keen a sense of humor, too sympathetic an outlook on life not to see the irony in the ceaseless spectacle of mankind dashing itself against the relentless wall of circumstances, fate, or what you will, in undying hope of attaining the unattainable. He saw the humor in this maelstrom of human endeavor—and he saw the tragedy too. The Knightes Tale presents largely, I think, the humorous side of it, Troilus and Criseyde, the tragic, although there is some tragedy in the Knightes Tale and some comedy in Troilus.
It was fate that Troilus should love Criseyde, that he should win her love for a time, and that in the end he should be deserted by her. From the very first line of the poem we know that he is doomed to sorrow:
“The double sorwe of Troilus to tellen,
That was the king Priamus sone of Troye,
In lovinge, how his aventures fellen
Fro we to wele, and after out of Ioye,
My purpos is, er that I parte fro ye.”[186]
The tragedy of Troilus is also the tragedy of Criseyde, for even at the moment of forsaking Troilus for Diomede she is deeply unhappy over her unfaithfulness; but circumstance is as much to blame as her own yielding nature, for Troilus’ fate is bound up with the inexorable doom of Troy, and she could not return to him if she would.
There is no doubt that Chaucer feels the tragedy of the story as he writes. In his proem to the first book he invokes one of the furies to aid him in his task: