Chapter IV: Act 3: , Scene 3, Dyce, VII, 364. The name Diverus is preserved in #C#, (3)

According to other forms of the same story, it is Sibilla, wife of Charles the Great, that is temporarily repudiated by her husband, owing to a false suspicion of unfaithfulness, seemingly justified by an ugly dwarf being found in bed with her. A French romance, which narrated this story, is described in the Chronicle of Alberich, a monk of the cloister of Trois Fontaines, in the diocese of Liége, writing in the first half of the thirteenth century.[48] A fragment of the latter half of such a romance, and of the same age, is preserved. A complete tale is extant in a variety of forms: Hystoria de la reyna Sebílla, in Spanish prose, French by origin, of which a full analysis is given by Ferdinand Wolf, Ueber die neuesten Leistungen, u. s. w., p. 124 ff, from a printed copy dated 1532;[49] a Dutch volksbuch, also from the French, printed not far from the same time, of which an ample account is also given by Wolf in Denkschriften der kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Phil. Hist. Classe, VIII, 180 ff; Macaire, a French romance in verse, of the thirteenth or fourteenth century, Mussafia, Altfranzösische Gedichte aus venezianischen Handschriften, II, Guessard, Les Anciens Poëtes de la France; a German metrical tale of uncertain date, 'Diu Künigin von Frankrich und der ungetriuwe Marschalk,' found in many manuscripts, von der Hagen, Gesammtabenteuer, I, 169, Meyer und Mooyer, Altdeutsche Dichtungen, p. 52; a meisterlied, 'Die Kunigin von Frankreich, dy der marschalk gegen dem Kunig versagen wart,' u. s. w., printed in the fifteenth century, and lately in Wolff's Halle der Völker, II, 255.[50] The king and queen are nameless in the last two, and the queen bears the name of Blançiflor in 'Macaire.' In the two German versions the false marshal repeats the part of the false steward in the English and Norse story; having failed with the queen, he lays a sleeping dwarf in her bed. The dwarf is principal in the Spanish and Dutch story, and after a discomfiture in which he loses some of his teeth at the vigorous hand of the queen, creeps into her bed while she is asleep. He does the same in the Venetian-French romance, thinking to get vengeance for rough handling from his mistress when acting as Pandarus for Macaire, of whose spite against the queen for rebuking his inordinate passion he is all the while the tool.

Sibilla appears again as Sisibe, daughter of a Spanish king, married to Sigmundr, father of Sigurðr Fáfnisbani. The king, summoned to arms, entrusts her to two of his nobles, one of whom, Hartvin, proposes that she shall accept him as a husband, and is threatened with the gallows. The two represent to the king, on his return, that the queen has had a handsome thrall for her partner during his absence. Hartvin advises that she be relegated to a desolate forest and have her tongue cut out, to which Sigmundr assents. Þiðriks Saga, Unger, p. 159 ff, cc 156-59; Hyltén-Cavallius, p. 115, cc 149-51.

The first part of the English romance of Sir Triamour, or a little more than 600 verses, is derived from some French form of Sibilla. A king going on a crusade to the holy land commits his queen to the care of his steward; the steward sues the queen to accept him as a paramour, and is threatened with hanging; the steward pretends that he has only been proving her, but when the king comes home tells him that he has seen a man lying with the queen, and has slain the traitor; the king is minded to burn his wife, but is advised by the steward rather to banish her; three days are allowed the queen to quit the country, and if found after that she is to die in the fire. Percy Society, vol. XVI, ed. Halliwell; Percy MS., ed. Hales and Furnivall, II, 78; Utterson, Select Pieces of Early Popular Poetry, I, 5.

In like manner, Genoveva's husband is persuaded by the false Golo, who has been charged with the care of her and has abused his trust, that his wife has admitted a cook to her favor; and Octavian's mother, in the English romance, excites her son's resentment against his innocent queen by inducing a scullion, "lothly of face," to get into the empress's bed: Weber, III, 163, v. 153 ff.[51]

Another series of tales, that has likeness in parts with the story of Gunhild and of Sibilla, is represented in English by the pleasing romance of The Erl of Tolous,[52] dating from about 1400.

We read in this lay of Britain, as it is called in the last stanza, that Barnard, Earl of Toulouse, has become enamored of the Empress of Germany, with whose lord he is at strife, and has excited a certain interest in the mind of the lady. The emperor selects two knights to guard his wife; these conceive a violent passion for her, and declare it, one after the other, after having obtained from her a promise of secrecy. She tells the first that he is a traitor and deserves to be hanged, and the second that he should be hanged had she not hight to hold counsel. These knights, who have been in collusion from the first, think themselves unsafe, notwithstanding the empress's promise, and conspire to be her ruin. They induce a young gentleman, for a jest, to strip himself all but bare, and hide behind a curtain in her chamber while she is sleeping; then summon "lords of bed" to help take a traitor who is with their lady in her bower, find the young man where they had put him, and bear him through the body. The lady is cast into prison. Her husband, who is far off, has a dream of two wild bears tearing his wife to pieces, and returns home with all haste. The knights tell their story. A council is called the next day, and it is decided that the empress must die (be burned). An old knight calls attention to the circumstance that the young man's tongue is stopped, and that none ever found a fault in the lady before; he advises that proclamation be made for a champion, to which the king, who loves his wife tenderly, gladly assents. The Earl of Toulouse hears of the lady's peril, and resolves to go to Germany and fight for her. This, as being on hostile terms with the emperor, he must do in disguise. By the help of an abbot, who is the empress's uncle, he obtains admission to the lady in a monk's dress, hears her shrift, and assures himself of her innocence; and then, monk as he seems, offers to do battle with the accusers. One is run through, the other yields as recreant and confesses the plot, and both are burned. The monk is revealed by the abbot, under a pledge that he shall receive no injury, to be Sir Barnard of Toulouse. The emperor treats his late foe graciously, and rewards him, even to the extent of dying in three years, when the earl is chosen his successor and weds the empress.

Of this story the following are repetitions, with variations: (1) Miracle de la Marquise de Gaudine, MS. of about 1400, Paris et Robert, Miracles de Notre Dame, II, 121 ff; (2) the German Volksbuch, Eine schöne und liebliche History vom edlen und theuren Ritter Galmien, printed 1539 or earlier, upon which Hans Sachs founded his play Der Ritter Galmi mit der Hertzogin auss Britanien, Keller, VIII, 261; (3) the Danish poem Den kydske Dronning, by Jeppe Jensen, 1483, Brandt, Romantisk Digtning, II, 89 ff; (4) a tale of Bandello, Second Part, No 44, Amore di Don Giovanni di Mendozza e della Duchessa di Savoia, printed 1554; (5) the French prose-romance L'Histoire de Palanus, Comte de Lyon, ed. A. de Terrebasse, 1833, put before 1539. In (1) a dwarf is made to conceal himself in the lady's chamber; in (2) a scullion to boast that he is the object of her passion; in (3) a servitor is the instrument of treachery; in (4) a young gentleman; in (5) this machinery is dropped, and a slanderous letter does the mischief. In none of these is the lady a German empress; in (5) she is an English queen; in (2) of British birth. In all there is a reciprocal predilection on the part of the lady and her champion.

Spanish and Provençal chroniclers and a Spanish ballad relate a story substantially according with what we find in The Earl of Toulouse, the injured heroine being an empress of Germany, and her champion a count, in all cases but one Count Ramon of Barcelona.

In the Spanish ballad 'Romance de cómo el conde don Ramon de Barcelona libró á la emperatriz de Alemaña que la tenian para quemar,' Duran, Romancero, II, 210, No 1228, Wolf y Hofmann, Primavera, II, 102, from the Silva de Romances of 1550, two knights, with no motive given but their own wickedness, tell the emperor that they have seen the empress toying with her chamberlain. The empress is imprisoned, and casts about for two knights to defend her life against the accusers. In all the chivalry of the court there is none that will venture against appellants so redoubtable, and she is to be burned in three days. The Count of Barcelona hears the distressing intelligence, and sets out to the rescue. No one being admitted to the lady except her confessor, the count makes known to the holy father that he has come for the defence, and begs, if possible, that he may first have a word with her majesty. He has an interview, in the guise of a monk, and is properly welcomed by the empress, who expresses her confidence that he will succeed in establishing her innocence, but will not permit him even to kiss hands. Asking only to take his adversaries one at a time, the count speedily disposes of the first, when the other surrenders. The emperor, delighted with the result, wishes to show due honor to the champion, who, however, is not to be found, having returned to his estates immediately after the fight; nor is the empress at liberty to tell who he is until the third day. He is then revealed to be the flower of chivalry, the lord of Catalonia. The empress, with the approval of her husband, goes to Barcelona, attended by a magnificent train and under conduct of two cardinals, to express her gratitude in person, and is very splendidly received and entertained.

The oldest of the chroniclers, the Catalan Bernart Desclot, writing about 1300, ascribes the misfortune of the empress to a harmless partiality for a young nobleman, which was misrepresented to the emperor by two of his councillors, out of envy and spite.[53] The empress is allowed a year and a day to find a champion, in default of which she is to be burned. None of the knights to whom she has shown kindness dare offer themselves in her cause, on account of the high favor in which her accusers, who engage to make good their charge by battle, stand with their master. But a minstrel attached to the court takes it in hand to find her a defender, goes to Barcelona, and so interests the count in the case that he sets out immediately for Germany. Carbonell, c. 1500, Beuter, c. 1530, and Pujades, † 1635, all of whom rely in part on popular tradition, make the count to be Ramon Berengar III, and Beuter says that, according to the Catalans, the empress was Matilda, daughter of Henry I of England, who was married to the emperor Henry V in 1114.[54]

Provençal chronicles, Cæsar de Nostradamus's Histoire et chronique de Provence, 1614, and La Royalle Couronne des Roys d'Arles, 1641, return to the baffled steward or maître d'hôtel and his revenge. The empress is Matilda in Nostradamus, as in Beuter, and the steward simply accuses her of adultery, and offers to sustain the charge by battle. No one dares to defend the lady, because the accuser is un fort rude et dangereux champion. The steward is hanged after his defeat. In La Royalle Couronne des Roys d'Arles the emperor is said to be Henry III and the empress Matilde, fille de Camet, qui avoit esté roy de Dannemarc et estoit roy d'Angleterre. The emperor Henry V was as king of Arles Henry III. Camet, whether miswritten or not, can mean only Canut, and there is an obvious confusion between Gunild, daughter of Cnut, wife of Henry III of Germany, and Matilda, daughter of Henry I of England, wife of Henry III of Arles and V of Germany.[55] This may be an historical blunder, pure and simple, or may have been occasioned by a knowledge of the tradition concerning Gunild.

There is little or nothing in all these tales that can be historically authenticated, and much that is in plain contradiction with history.[56] Putting history out of the question, there is no footing firmer than air for him who would essay to trace the order of the development. Even if we exaggerate the poverty of human invention so far as to assume that there must have been a single source for stories so numerous and so diversified in the details, a simple exposition of the subject-matter, with subordinate connections, seems all that it is safe, at present, to attempt.[57]

* * * * *

#A# is translated, according to Percy's Reliques, by Bothe, p. 175, and by Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Altenglands, No 68; #B# by Gerhard, p. 71. The old Danish ballad, Grundtvig's #A#, by Dr Prior, I, 151.

A

Percy MS., p. 68; Hales and Furnivall, I, 166.

1
Our king he kept a ffalse steward,
Men called him S_i_r Aldingar,
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

2
He wold haue layen by our comely queene,
Her deere worshipp to haue betraide;
Our queene shee was a good woman,
And euer more said him nay.

3
Aldingar was offended in his mind,
W_i_th her hee was neuer content,
But he sought what meanes he cold find out,
In a fyer to haue her brent.

4
There came a lame lazer to the k_ing_s gates,
A lazar was blind and lame;
He tooke the lazar vpon his backe,
Vpon the queenes bed he did him lay.

5
He said, Lye still, lazar, wheras thou lyest;
Looke thou goe not away;
Ile make thee a whole man and a sound
In two howres of a day.

6
And then went forth S_i_r Aldingar,
Our queene for to betray,
And then he mett w_i_th our comlye k_ing_,
Saies, God you saue and see!

7
'If I had space, as I haue grace,
A message I wold say to thee.'
'Say on, say on, S_i_r Aldingar,
Say thou on and vnto me.'

8
'I can let you now see one of [the] greiuos[est] sights
_Tha_t euer Christen k_ing_ did see;
Our queene hath chosen a new, new loue,
She will haue none of thee.

9
'If shee had chosen a right good k_nigh_t,
The lesse had beene her shame;
But she hath chosen a lazar man,
W_hi_ch is both blinde and lame.'

10
'If this be true, thou Aldingar,
_Tha_t thou dost tell to me,
Then will I make thee a rich k_nigh_t
Both of gold and fee.

11
'But if it be false, S_i_r Aldingar,
That thou doest tell to me,
Then looke for noe other death
But to be hangd on a tree.
Goe w_i_th me,' saide our comly k_ing_,
'This lazar for to see.'

12
When the k_ing_ he came into the queenes chamber,
Standing her bed befor,
'There is a lodly lome,' says Harry K_ing_,
'For our dame Queene Elinor!

13
'If thou were a man, as thou art none,
Here thou sholdest be slaine;
But a paire of new gallowes shall be built,
Thoust hang on them soe hye.

14
'And [a] fayre fyer there shalbe bett,
And brent our queene shalbee:'
Fforth then walked our comlye k_ing_,
And mett w_i_th our comly queene.

15
Saies, God you saue, our queene, Madam,
And Christ you saue and see!
Heere you [haue] chosen a new, new loue,
And you will haue none of mee.

16
'If you had chosen a right good k_nigh_t,
The lesse had beene yo_u_r shame;
But you haue chosen a lazar man,
That is both blind and lame.'

17
'Euer alacke!' said our comly queene,
'S_i_r Aldingar is false to mee;
But euer alacke!' said our comly queene,
'Euer alas, and woe is mee!

18
'I had thought sweuens had neuer been true;
I haue prooued them true at the last;
I dreamed in my sweauen on Thursday at eueninge,
In my bed wheras I lay,

19
'I dreamed a grype and a grimlie beast
Had carryed my crowne away,
My gorgett and my kirtle of golde,
And all my faire heade-geere.

20
'How he wold haue worryed me w_i_th his tush,
And borne me into his nest,
Saving there came a little hawk,
Flying out of the east.

21
'Saving there came a little hawke,
W_hi_ch men call a merlion;
Vntill the ground he stroke him downe,
_Tha_t dead he did fall downe.

22
'Giffe I were a man, as I am none,
A battell I would proue;
I wold fight w_i_th that false traitor;
Att him I cast my gloue!

23
'Seing I am able noe battell to make,
You must grant me, my leege, a k_nigh_t,
To fight w_i_th _tha_t traitor, S_i_r Aldingar,
To maintaine me in my right.'

24
'I'le giue thee forty dayes,' said our k_ing_,
'To seeke thee a man therin;
If thou find not a man in forty dayes,
In a hott fyer thou shall brenn.'

25
Our queene sent forth a messenger;
He rode fast into the south;
He rode the countryes through and through,
Soe ffar vnto Portsmouth.

26
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
He cold find never a man in the south country
_Tha_t wold fight w_i_th the k_nigh_t soe keene.

27
The second messenger the queen forth sent
Rode far into the east;
But, blessed be God made sunn and moone!
He sped then all of the best.

28
As he rode then by one riuer side,
There he mett w_i_th a little child;
He seemed noe more in a mans likenesse
Then a child of four yeeres old.

29
He askt the queenes messenger how far he rode;
Loth he was him to tell;
The little one was offended att him,
Bid him adew, farwell.

30
Said, Turne thou againe, thou messenger,
Greete our queene well from me;
When bale is att hyest, boote is att next;
Helpe enough there may bee.

31
'Bid o_u_r queene remember what she did dreame
In her bedd wheras shee lay;
Shee dreamed the grype and the grimly beast
Had carryed her crowne away;

32
'Her gorgett and her kirtle of gold,
Alsoe her faire head-geere;
He wold haue werryed her w_i_th his tushe,
And borne her into his nest.

33
'Saving there came a little hawke,
Men call him a merlyon;
Vntill the ground he did strike him downe,
_Tha_t dead he did ffall downe.

34
'Bidd the queene be merry att her hart,
Euermore light and glad;
When bale is att hyest, boote is at next,
Helpe enoughe there shalbe.'

35
Then the queenes messenger rode backe,
A gladed man then was hee;
When he came before our queene,
A gladd woman then was shee.

36
Shee gaue the messenger twenty pound,
O lord, in gold and ffee;
Saies, Spend and spare not while this doth last,
Then feitch thou more of me.

37
Our queene was put in a tunne to burne,
She thought no thing but death;
Thé were ware of the little one
Came ryding forth of the east.

38
W_i_th a mu...
A louelie child was hee;
When he came to that fier,
He light the queene full nigh.

39
Said, Draw away these brands of fire
Lie burning before our queene,
And feitch me hither S_i_r Aldingar,
_Tha_t is a knight soe keene.

40
When Aldingar see _tha_t little one,
Ffull litle of him hee thought;
If there had beene halfe a hundred such,
Of them he wold not haue wrought.

41
Hee sayd, Come hither, S_i_r Aldingar;
Thou seemust as bigge as a ffooder;
I trust to God, ere I haue done w_i_th thee,
God will send to vs [an] auger.

42
Saies, The first stroke that's giuen, S_i_r Aldingar,
I will giue vnto thee,
And if the second giue thou may,
Looke then thou spare not mee.

43
The litle one pulld forth a well good sword,
I-wis itt was all of guilt;
It cast light there over _tha_t feild,
It shone soe all of guilt.

44
He stroke the first stroke att Aldingar,
He stroke away his leggs by his knee;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

45
Sayes, Stand vp, stand vp, thou false traitor,
And fight vpon thy feete;
For and thou thriue as thou begins,
Of a height wee shalbe meete.

46
'A preist, a preist,' sayes Aldingar,
'Me for to houzle and shriue!
A preist, a preist,' sayes Aldingar,
'While I am a man liuing a-liue!

47
'I wold haue laine by our comlie queene;
To it shee wold neuer consent;
I thought to haue betrayd her to our k_ing_,
In a fyer to haue had her brent.

48
'There came a lame lazar to the k_ing_s gates,
A lazar both blind and lame;
I tooke the lazar vpon my backe,
In the Queenes bed I did him lay.

49
'I bad him, Lie still, lazar, where he lay,
Looke he went not away;
I wold make him a whole man and a sound
In two houres of a day.

50
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
'Euer alacke!' sayes S_i_r Aldingar,
'Falsing neuer doth well;

51
'Forgiue, forgiue me, queene, Madam!
For Christs loue forgiue me!'
'God forgaue his death, Aldingar,
And freely I forgiue thee.'

52
'Now take thy wife, thou K_ing_ Harry,
And loue her as thou shold;
Thy wiffe shee is as true to thee
As stone _tha_t lies on the castle wall.'

53
The lazar vnder the gallow tree
Was a pretty man and small;
The lazar vnder the gallow tree
Was made steward in K_ing_ Henerys hall.

B

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, III, 51, 1803.
Communicated to Scott by K. Williamson Burnet, of
Monboddo, as written down from the recitation of an old
woman, long in the service of the Arbuthnot family.

1
The birds sang sweet as ony bell,
The world had not their make;
The queen she's gone to her chamber,
With Rodingham to talk.

2
'I love you well, my queen, my dame,
Bove land and rents so clear,
And for the love of you, my queen,
Would thole pain most severe.'

3
'If well you love me, Rodingham,
I'm sure so do I thee;
I love you well as any man,
Save the king's fair bodye.'

4
'I love you well, my queen, my dame,
'T is truth that I do tell;
And for to lye a night with you,
The salt seas I would sail.'

5
'Away, away, O Rodingham!
You are both stark and stoor;
Would you defile the king's own bed,
And make his queen a whore?

6
'To-morrow you'd be taken sure,
And like a traitor slain,
And I'd be burned at a stake,
Altho I be the queen.'

7
He then steppd out at her room-door,
All in an angry mood,
Untill he met a leper-man,
Just by the hard way-side.

8
He intoxicate the leper-man,
With liquors very sweet,
And gave him more and more to drink,
Until he fell asleep.

9
He took him in his arms two,
And carried him along,
Till he came to the queen's own bed,
And there he laid him down.

10
He then steppd out of the queen's bower,
As swift as any roe,
Till he came to the very place
Where the king himself did go.

11
The king said unto Rodingham,
What news have you to me?
He said, Your queen's a false woman,
As I did plainly see.

12
He hastend to the queen's chamber,
So costly and so fine,
Until he came to the queen's own bed,
Where the leper-man was lain.

13
He looked on the leper-man,
Who lay on his queen's bed;
He lifted up the snaw-white sheets,
And thus he to him said.

14
'Plooky, plooky are your cheeks,
And plooky is your chin,
And plooky are your armis twa,
My bonny queen's layne in.

15
'Since she has lain into your arms,
She shall not lye in mine;
Since she has kissd your ugsome mouth,
She never shall kiss mine.'

16
In anger he went to the queen,
Who fell upon her knee;
He said, You false, unchaste woman,
What's this you've done to me?

17
The queen then turnd herself about,
The tear blinded her ee:
'There's not a knight in a' your court
Dare give that name to me.'

18
He said, 'T is true that I do say;
For I a proof did make;
You shall be taken from my bower,
And burned at a stake.

19
'Perhaps I'll take my word again,
And may repent the same,
If that you'll get a Christian man
To fight that Rodingham.'

20
'Alass! alass!' then cried our queen,
'Alas, and woe to me!
There's not a man in all Scotland
Will fight with him for me.'

21
She breathed unto her messengers,
Sent them south, east, and west;
They could find none to fight with him,
Nor enter the contest.

22
She breathed on her messengers,
She sent them to the north;
And there they found Sir Hugh le Blond,
To fight him he came forth.

23
When unto him they did unfold
The circumstance all right,
He bade them go and tell the queen
That for her he would fight.

24
The day came on that was to do
That dreadful tragedy;
Sir Hugh le Blond was not come up,
To fight for our lady.

25
'Put on the fire,' the monster said,
'It is twelve on the bell;'
''T is scarcely ten, now,' said the king,
'I heard the clock mysell.'

26
Before the hour the queen is brought,
The burning to proceed;
In a black velvet chair she's set,
A token for the dead.

27
She saw the flames ascending high,
The tears blinded her ee:
'Where is the worthy knight,' she said,
'Who is to fight for me?'

28
Then up and spak the king himsell:
'My dearest, have no doubt,
For yonder comes the man himsel,
As bold as eer set out.'

29
They then advanced to fight the duel,
With swords of temperd steel;
Till down the blood of Rodingham
Came running to his heel.

30
Sir Hugh took out a lusty sword,
'T was of the metal clear,
And he has pierced Rodingham
Till's heart-blood did appear.

31
'Confess your treachery, now,' he said,
'This day before you die;'
'I do confess my treachery,
I shall no longer lye.

32
'I like to wicked Haman am,
This day I shall be slain:'
The queen was brought to her chamber,
A good woman again.

33
The queen then said unto the king,
Arbattle's near the sea;
Give it unto the northern knight,
That this day fought for me.

34
Then said the king, Come here, Sir Knight,
And drink a glass of wine,
And, if Arbattle's not enough,
To it we'll Fordoun join.

C

Dr Joseph Robertson's Note-Book, January 1, 1830, p. 6.

1
They've putten her into prison strang,
A twalmon lang and mair,
Until the mice and wild rattens
Did tear her yallow hair.

* * * * * * *

2
'One shake o your han,' said Rodingham,
'One shak o your han gie me:'
'I cam na here for shaking hans,
But to fight maist desperatelie.'

3
'It's nae ten strucken on the clock,
Nor eleven on the bell:'
'We'll doe ill deeds anew ere night,
Tho it were strucken twall.'

* * * * *

#A.#

2^2. _Perhaps we should read ~to betray~._

4^2. was lind.

5^4. in 2.

13^3. be bul: _~t~ torn off, and one stroke of the ~u~
dotted. Furnivall._

17^4. _~S^r~ before ~Euer~ crossed out. Furnivall._

19^1. dreamed the grype.

24^{1, 3}. 40.

28^4. 4.

30^3, 34^3. _~next~ should, perhaps, be ~nyest~._

32^1. kirt e.

32^4. her nest.

36^1. 20^{li}_{:}.

38^1. _The rest of the line is cut away._

40^3. 100.

45^3. thriue: _one stroke of the ~u~ is left out.
Furnivall._

49^4. 2.

52^1. thou K.

52^3. is a.

#B.#

28^4. as ere.

[31] Such dreams are not unusual in this connection: the empress has a like one in Octavian, Weber, Metrical Romances, III, 165, v. 195 ff; the emperor in The Erl of Tolous, Lüdtke, st. 68; the duke in the German Hirlanda.

[32] All these Scandinavian versions were printed for the first time by Grundtvig, save two out of eleven copies of #K#: these two in Kristensen, I, 124, No 49, 'Mimering,' and II, 306, No 87, 'Fru Gunder i Spire.' #F# was subsequently printed in Íslenzk Fornkvæði, No 12, I, 78, 'Gunnhildar kvæði.' Grundtvig devoted particular attention to this ballad, and has elucidated the history of the subject in a masterly way.

[33] See Flóamannasaga, Vigfússon and Möbius, Fornsögur, p. 134 f, where the whole sword is hid in the sand; Svarfdælasaga, Íslendínga Sögur, 1830, II, 132-134; Gunnlaugs saga ormstúngu, Ísl. Sög., 1847, II, 225 f; Þiðriks saga, Unger, p. 206, c. 222; Sturlaugs saga starfsama, c. 10, Rafn, Fornaldar Sögur, III, 608 f; and cf. 'Orm Ungersvend og Bermer Rise,' Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, No 11: Grundtvig and Bugge. Besides the oath customary in judicial combats, that the parties believe in the justice of their cause, the old Frisian and Lombard laws require champions to swear that they will fight fairly and honestly, and that they have no charm concealed about them, "ne forte carminibus, vel machinis diabolicis, vel magicis artibus insidientur:" Grundtvig, I, 194 note *. Jove seems to be expected to laugh at a qualified perjury in some of the above cases.

[34] Hans Hendrik in #H#; clearly, as Grundtvig says, a modern misunderstanding of Han Hendrik.

[35] The name Raadengaard occurs in Grundtvig, No 7, #A#, #G#, #H#, No 12, #C#; Ravengaard also in No 7, #D#, No 12, #A#; Raanegaard, Ronegaard, in No 12, #B#.

[36] Percy says that it had been suggested to him that the author of 'Sir Aldingar' "had in his eye the story of Gunhilda, _who was sometimes called Eleanor_, and was married to the Emperor (here called King) Henry." I have not found that Gunhilda was ever called Eleanor.

[37] Little Mimmering Tand is found in several ballads. He is one of King Diderik's kemps in Grundtvig, No 7, #A#, and appears again in his No 16, #C#. Mimering is the smallest of men in Grundtvig, No 14.

[38] De Gestis Regum Anglorum, l. ii, c. 12.

[39] Danish and Norwegian Mimecan, Mimmering, Memering, English mimicking, mimocking, and probably minnikin, Scottish memerkyn, mynmerkin, all denote a man or object of small size, and point to Icelandic minni==minor, minnkan, a minishing, etc.; as Bugge remarks.

[40] Lives of Edward the Confessor, edited by Henry Richards Luard, p. 39 f, vv 506-531, p. 3, VII.

[41] Twysden, Historiæ Anglicanæ Scriptores Decem, col. 933. In MS. #A# of the Abbreviationes of Ralph de Diceto, ed. Stubbs, I, 174, this note is inserted in the margin (at Gunnildam imperatori Romano cum ineffabilibus divitiis maritavit): Quam Rodingarus Alemannicus impetivit de adulterio, sed Mimekinus eam defendit et Rodingarum interfecit. The Abbreviationes were written before 1200, but the date of the insertion is of course uncertain.

[42] The second account in Alberti Krantzii Saxonia, lib. IV, c. 32, p. 97, ed. 1621: Grundtvig. Cunigund having publicly protested that she had never known man (not even her husband), Henry, who wished the secret kept, according to one account struck her lightly in the face, according to another squeezed her mouth together so roughly as to draw blood. Grundtvig sees in this story a correspondence with the severe beating that Henry is said, in some of the ballads, to have inflicted on Gunild.

[43] The trial is described with every detail in the Annals of Winchester, which may be of Henry II's time: Luard, Annales Monastici, II, 20-25. See, also, Brompton's Chronicle, Hist. Angl. Scriptores X, col. 941 f; Eulogium Historiarum, ed. Haydon, II, 184, c. 184; Rudbourn, in Wharton's Anglia Sacra, I, 233-35; etc.

[44] Et cantabat joculator quidam, nomine Herebertus, canticum Colbrandi, necnon gestum Emme regine a judicio ignis liberate, in aula prioris: Registrum prioratus S. Swithini Wintoniensis, cited by Warton, History of English Poetry, I, 81, ed. 1840. While the ordeal was in process, we are told, the spectators were weeping "intolerably" and crying with one voice, St Swithin, help her! now or never! Deus vim patitur. Regina sine clamore faciebat orationem: Deus, qui liberasti Susannam, tu me liberare digneris! It may be the same or another ballad on the deliverance of Queen Emma which Langland refers to at the end of the Prologue to Piers Plowman, as sung by lazy dykers and delvers, "that drive forth the long day with Dieu vous saue, Dame Emme."

[45] Regino, † 915, in Pertz, I, 597; Hermannus Contractus, † 1054, and Compendium ex codice Bernoldi, Migne, Patrologia, CXLIII, col. 201; Massmann, Kaiserchronik, twelfth century, II, 415-22; Jac. von Königshofen's Chronicle, end of fourteenth century, ed. Schilter, p. 105, cited by Grimm, Rechtsalterthümer, p. 912, Grundtvig, I, 190. In the Kaiserchronik the emperor gives his wife a blow with his fist.

[46] Fredegarius, Chronicon, c. 51, in Du Chesne, I, 755; Aimoinus, c. 1000, Historia Francorum, lib. IV, c. 10, in Du Chesne, III, 103. Paulus Diaconus, lib. IV, c. 47, has wrongly made Gundeberg wife of Rodoald, putting the event at 652.

[47] In Königshofen's Chronicle.

[48] Edited by Leibnitz in Accessiones Historicæ, tom. II, Pars I, p. 105 f. The passage relating to this romance is cited from Leibnitz by Wolf, Ueber die neuesten Leistungen, u. s. w., p. 156f, and from a manuscript by Guessard, Macaire, p. xii f. All that is said of the dwarf is: de quodam nano turpissimo, cujus occasione dicta regina fuit expulsa.

[49] This tale apparently exists also in a manuscript of the end of the fourteenth century: Gayangos in Rivadeneyra's Biblioteca, Libros de Caballerias, p. lxxxiii, 'Sebilla.' Cited by Wolf.

[50] See, for the last, and generally for the related literature, von Tettau, Ueber einige bis jetzt unbekannte Erfurter Drucke aus dem 15. Jahrhundert, pp 8-65. Hans Sachs has dramatized the story of the false marshal, VIII, 54, ed. Keller.

[51] For Genoveva see Seuffert, Die Legende von der Pfalzgräfin Genovefa, Würzburg, 1877.

[52] Ritson, A. E. Metrical Romanceës, III, 93; newly and admirably edited, Berlin, 1881, by Gustav Lüdtke, with a thorough investigation of the related literature, the more material part of which is furnished in appendixes.

[53] This recalls Morant in Karl Meinet, Keller, 219 ff, and in La gran conquista de ultramar, Wolf, Denkschriften der kais. Akad., as before, VIII, 280. Olive, in the German volksbuch Hirlanda, seems to be patterned after Morant. Hirlanda is charged with an intrigue with Olive by a graceless nobleman, and is to be burned unless vindicated by battle. Everybody is afraid of the impeacher's strength and skill in fight, but he is vanquished by a mere boy (divinely assisted) and confesses his villainy. The boy is Hirlanda's long-lost son. This is a stale paraphrase of an old story.

[54] Diago in his history of the counts of Barcelona contends for Ramon Berengar IV and the wife of Alfonso VII, who was crowned Emperor of Spain in 1135: Wolf, Lüdtke.

[55] For these chronicles and for Palanus, see F. Wolf in Jahrbücher für wissenschaftliche Kritik, 1835, 945-56, and Lüdtke, 78 ff. In the Arles chronicle, as also in Desclot, Carbonell, Beuter, etc., the empress gives the count a ring when he visits her in prison, and the same is done earlier in The Erl of Tolous; see Lüdtke, pp 80,171,181,183,191,201, and vv 392, 1076 of the English romance. It may be noted, without the intention of suggesting any particular inference, that Arthur's queen in Le lai du Corn, v. 325 ff, to clear herself from the suspicion of loving amiss, professes herself ready to be thrown into a fire of thorns, and, should a hair of her head or any of her dress be burned, then to be dragged at a horse's heels. She owns that she _had_ given a ring to a young donzel, who had killed a giant that had slandered Gawain, and then wished modestly to withdraw.

[56] Lüdtke has endeavored, by a very carefully conducted comparison, to show the probability of an historical foundation for The Erl of Tolous in the relations of Bernard I, Count of Barcelona, with the Empress Judith, second wife of Louis le Débonnaire. By the influence of this beautiful and clever woman, Bernard, son of the William of Orange of romance, and later in his life Count or Duke of Toulouse, as his father had been, was made imperial chamberlain or prime minister, with the object of forwarding the aspirations which the empress entertained for her son Karl. Hugo, Count of Tours, and Matfrid, Count of Orleans, partisans of Lothair, stand for the empress's two lovers and enemies. Judith was accused of adultery with Bernard, and shut up in a monastery. At an assembly of the estates of the empire in 831, she declared herself prepared to refute the charge against her, and no accuser appearing, did so, when required, by an oath, after which she was restored to her rights as wife and empress. Bernard, though already incidentally purged by the empress's oath, some months subsequently asked the privilege of a duel with anybody that was disposed to inculpate him, and, no such person offering, in turn cleared himself by an oath. See Lüdtke, p. 98 ff, p. 209 ff. Hildegard, Louis's mother, according to tradition, labored under the same imputation as Judith, his wife; a parallel to the case of Gunild and her mother Emma. The story of Hildegard (Grimms, Deutsche Sagen, II, 102) has some resemblance to that of Repsima, Les Mille et un Jours, p. 265, Paris, 1840, and Jonathan Scott's Arabian Nights, VI, 396, 'Adventures of the Cauzce,' etc.

[57] Grundtvig, admitting that the time has not come for anything more, sketches an hypothesis of the evolution and transmission of the story, "as a mere experiment," I, 203 f.

60

KING ESTMERE

#a.# Percy's Reliques, edition of 1794, I, 64.

#b.# Reliques, edition of 1765, I, 58.

'King Estmere' occurred at page 249 of Percy's folio manuscript, but the three leaves on which it was written were "unfortunately torn out" by Percy to send to the press, and the genuine form of the ballad thereby put beyond recovery. In the second and later editions of the Reliques the editor professes to give the ballad from two copies ("containing very great variations," 1794), one of them being that of the folio. But here and elsewhere Percy employs a singular periphrasis, as he has explained to us in the preface to the Reliques, and means only that he has amended his original more or less. Notwithstanding the seemingly explicit language, there is no second copy at all.[58]

We are told by Percy, in a note to stanza 63, that though liberties have been taken with that portion of the ballad which follows, yet wherever the fourth edition differs from the preceding ones it has been brought nearer to the folio.[59] Some notes of readings of the folio are also furnished in the fourth edition (and are here restored), which were not given in the others. While we cannot but be vexed that so distinguished a ballad, not injured much, so far as we can see, by time, should not come down to us as it came to Percy, our loss must not be exaggerated. The changes made by the editor, numerous enough, no doubt, cannot be very material until we approach the end. Stanzas 63-66 are entirely suspicious, and it may even be questioned whether the manuscript contained a word that is in them.

The name of Bremor, son of the king of Spain, and "a heathen hound" (if this be not Percy's interpolation), taken with certain resemblances in the story, very naturally suggested to Professor Sophus Bugge (Grundtvig, IV, 704) a connection between this ballad and 'Young Orm and Bermer-Giant,' 'Orm Ungersvend og Bermer-Rise.'[60] The giant, who is described as a rabid berserker, presents himself at the Danish court (Grundtvig, #A#), and demands that the king shall give him his daughter and half his land, or find a man who will fight in the ring with him. The king refuses daughter and land, and says he will find a champion. He offers the chance of winning so fair a may to his men, and no one dares say a word except Young Orm, who sits lowest at the board: he will be the man. But first Orm provides himself with an irresistible sword, which is buried in his father's tomb, and is yielded by the dead man only upon the condition that his son shall take the revenge due for his death. With this sword Orm, like the child in 'Sir Aldingar,' cuts the giant through at the knees, being, he says, not tall enough to strike higher. He then goes to Iceland, and fights three days with the men who had slain his father, but without prevailing. A mermaid, from the sea-bottom, cries out to him that his sword is under a spell, and that he must whirl it three times round his head and then stick the point in the ground. This done, he has no difficulty in despatching his foes. He returns to the Danish court, and marries the princess.

The likeness between the English ballad and the Danish (which represents well enough the other Norse poems) is that a youthful champion wins a king's daughter by killing a truculent competitor, who has nearly the same name in both (Bremor, Bermer).

Further consideration led Bugge to maintain that the proper subject of 'King Estmere' is rather the story of Hjalmar, Odd and Anganty, and that the English ballad is better represented by the tragic Färöe ballad of 'Arngrim's Sons' than by 'Orm and Bermer-Giant,' which last he regards as a free reconstruction of an earlier and fuller form of 'Arngrim's Sons' than has come down to us. The points in which the story of Hjalmar, Odd and Anganty[61] is like 'King Estmere,' in contrast with the Orm ballad, are that the hero does not fight single-handed with the giant, but has the help of Odd (Adler); that the king's daughter chooses her husband for herself; that the bride is not won by a sword taken from a father's grave. The argument is, however, much too intricate and too long to be repeated here, even had the subtle and accomplished advocate shown full confidence in the conclusion.

But this confidence he does not feel, for, as he conceives, King Estmere again exhibits resemblances to 'Ogier le Danois,' the basis of the Danish ballad 'Holger Danske og Burmand,' Grundtvig, No 30.[62] The name Adler, says Bugge, is about as near to Ogier, Oddgeir, as to Oddr. Adler's brother, Estmere, might be the chivalrous paynim Karaheus, despite the unlike name, and King Adland's daughter the amiral's daughter Gloriande, the beloved of Karaheus. Brunamons of Majorca, to whom the amiral offers his daughter after the defection of Karaheus, may be Bremer of Spain. Ogier, like Adler (in Percy's edition), kills the hateful interloper, and Karaheus, like Estmere, gets the lady, but without taking part in the fight. If this hypothesis is not quite so satisfactory as the other, we may combine both. The English ballad may have been derived from some form of 'Arngrim's Sons,' but have been modified under the influence of 'Ogier le Danois.'[63]

A brief statement of these speculations may suffice in view of their inconclusiveness, which is the greater by reason of our not knowing to what extent Percy interfered with his manuscript.

The names Adler and Estmere appear again in a short romance in the Percy manuscript, Hales and Furnivall, II, 296. The story is that of Hugdietrich in the Heldenbuch: von der Hagen, I, 169, ed. 1855, Amelung and Jänicke, I, 167; given by Weber in Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 63. Adler is a king, and, like Estmere in the ballad, is exacting in the matter of a wife. In the Heldenbuch it is not the young man who is so difficult to suit, but his guardian. Estmere (v. 11, where there is corruption or defect) appears to be Adler's messenger to King Ardine, the father of a lady who answers all requirements, and who, as it turns out, likes Adler, but is not to be had on easy terms.[64]

'King Estmere' begins very much like the Danish ballad, 'Den farlige Jomfru,' Grundtvig, No 184, and especially like version #D#.

1
Ther stod drick paa felde,
der druck kiemper snile.

2
Der druck innde her Ion Runnd,
och ryder och her Rosenns-wannd.

3
'Høre du, her Ion Rund, kiere stolbroder mynn,
vilttu icki gifftis ennd?'

4
'Ieg ved icki denn yomffru y dette rige
der yeg lader were minn lige.'

For knights and others to ride into hall, and up to the high board, is quite according to use. Every one will remember the passage in Chaucer's Squire's Tale, vv 30 ff. So again in Sir Perceval, Thornton Romances, p. 19, xxxi; Sir Degrevant, the same, p. 227, lxxvi; Libius Disconius, Percy MS., Hales and Furnivall, II, 486, v. 1951 (Skeat); Madden's Syr Gawayne, p. 8 ff, p. 111, v. 332; Perceval le Gallois, ed. Potvin, II, 125, vv 12,640-50; Messire Gauvain, p. 27, p. 146; Mabinogion, I, 70, 303 f, II, 257; Stowe's Survey of London (vol. II, book VI, p. 48, ed. 1720, following Walsingham), cited by Percy in his Essay on the Ancient Minstrels, Reliques, I, xli, lxxxvii, ed. 1794; Warton's History of English Poetry, II, 172, note d, ed. 1840.

The champion of England formerly rode into Westminster Hall in the coronation ceremony, but this part of the spectacle was omitted from the two last coronations.

King Estmere stables his steed at the hall board. Here again the minstrel is within the bounds of custom. "On voyait au moyen âge, dans la salle des chefs gallois, d'énormes crampons de fer, fixés au pavé de distance en distance, qui servaient aux chevaliers pour attacher leurs chevaux, car ils y entraient souvent avec eux; quelques-uns les conduisaient même jusque dans leur chambre à coucher:" Villemarqué, Les Romans de la Table Ronde, etc., 1860, p. 416 (cited by Liebrecht).

For bribing to secrecy with an arm-ring, stanza 47, see, also, Grundtvig, No 82, #A# 14, 15, #B# 20, 21; No 95, #D# 16, 17, Kristensen, I, No 96, 16; Grundtvig, No 233, #A# 18, #B# 12, #D# 13; No 274, #A# 21.

* * * * *

Translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 1; by Bodmer, I, 27; Herder, I, 195; Knortz, L. u. R. Alt-Englands, No 14.

1
Hearken to me, gentlemen,
Come and you shall heare;
Ile tell you of two of the boldest brether
That ever borne were.

2
The tone of them was Adler Younge,
The tother was Kyng Estmere;
The were as bolde men in their deeds
As any were, farr and neare.

3
As they were drinking ale and wine
Within his brother's hall,
'When will ye marry a wyfe, brother,
A wyfe to glad us all?'

4
Then bespake him Kyng Estmere,
And answered him hartilye:
'I know not that ladye in any land,
That's able to marrye with mee.'

5
'Kyng Adland hath a daughter, brother,
Men call her bright and sheene;
If I were kyng here in your stead,
That ladye shold be my queene.'

6
Saies, Reade me, reade me, deare brother,
Throughout merry England,
Where we might find a messenger
Betwixt us towe to sende.

7
Saies, You shal ryde yourselfe, brother,
Ile beare you companye;
Many a man throughe fals messengers is deceived,
And I feare lest soe shold wee.

8
Thus the renisht them to ryde,
Of twoe good renisht steeds,
And when the came to King Adlands halle,
Of redd gold shone their weeds.

9
And when the came to Kyng Adlands hall,
Before the goodlye gate,
There they found good Kyng Adland
Rearing himselfe theratt.

10
'Now Christ thee save, good Kyng Adland;
Now Christ you save and see:'
Sayd, You be welcome, King Estmere,
Right hartilye to mee.

11
'You have a daughter,' said Adler Younge,
'Men call her bright and sheene;
My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe,
Of Englande to be queene.'

12
'Yesterday was att my deere daughter
The king his sonne of Spayn,
And then she nicked him of naye,
And I doubt sheele do you the same.'

13
'The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim,
And 'leeveth on Mahound,
And pitye it were that fayre ladye
Shold marrye a heathen hound.'

14
'But grant to me,' sayes Kyng Estmere,
'For my love I you praye,
That I may see your daughter deere
Before I goe hence awaye.'

15
'Although itt is seven yeers and more
Since my daughter was in halle,
She shall come once downe for your sake.
To glad my guestës alle.'

16
Downe then came that mayden fayre,
With ladyes laced in pall,
And halfe a hundred of bold knightes,
To bring her [from] bowre to hall,
And as many gentle squiers,
To tend upon them all.

17
The talents of golde were on her head sette
Hanged low downe to her knee,
And everye ring on her small finger
Shone of the chrystall free.

18
Saies, God you save, my deere madam,
Saies, God you save and see:
Said, You be welcome, Kyng Estmere,
Right welcome unto mee.

19
'And, if you love me, as you saye,
Soe well and hartilee,
All that ever you are comen about
Soone sped now itt shal bee.'

20
Then bespake her father deare:
My daughter, I saye naye;
Remember well the kyng of Spayne,
What he sayd yesterdaye.

21
'He wold pull downe my halles and castles,
And reave me of my lyfe;
I cannot blame him if he doe,
If I reave him of his wyfe.

22
'Your castles and your towres, father,
Are stronglye built aboute,
And therefore of the king his sonne of Spaine
Wee neede not stande in doubt.

23
'Plight me your troth, nowe, Kyng Estmere,
By heaven and your righte hand,
That you will marrye me to your wyfe,
And make me queene of your land.'

24
Then Kyng Estmere he plight his troth,
By heaven and his righte hand,
That he wolde marrye her to his wyfe,
And make her queene of his land.

25
And he tooke leave of that ladye fayre,
To goe to his owne countree,
To fetche him dukes and lordes and knightes,
That marryed the might bee.

26
They had not ridden scant a myle,
A myle forthe of the towne,
But in did come the kyng of Spayne,
With kempës many one.

27
But in did come the kyng of Spayne,
With manye a bold barone,
Tone day to marrye Kyng Adlands daughter,
Tother daye to carrye her home.

28
Shee sent one after Kyng Estmere,
In all the spede might bee,
That he must either turne againe and fighte,
Or goe home and loose his ladye.

29
One whyle then the page he went,
Another while he ranne;
Till he had oretaken King Estmere,
I-wis he never blanne.

30
'Tydings, tydings, Kyng Estmere!'
'What tydinges nowe, my boye?'
'O tydinges I can tell to you,
That will you sore annoye.

31
'You had not ridden scant a mile,
A mile out of the towne,
But in did come the kyng of Spayne,
With kempës many a one.

32
'But in did come the kyng of Spayne,
With manye a bold barone,
Tone daye to marrye King Adlands daughter,
Tother daye to carry her home.

33
'My ladye fayre she greetes you well,
And ever-more well by mee;
You must either turne againe and fighte,
Or goe home and loose your ladye.'

34
Saies, Reade me, reade me, deere brother,
My reade shall ryse at thee,
Whether it is better to turne and fighte,
Or goe home and loose my ladye.

35
'Now hearken to me,' sayes Adler Yonge,
'And your reade must rise at me;
I quicklye will devise a waye
To sette thy ladye free.

36
'My mother was a westerne woman,
And learned in gramarye,
And when I learned at the schole,
Something shee taught itt mee.

37
'There growes an hearbe within this field,
And iff it were but knowne,
His color, which is whyte and redd,
It will make blacke and browne.

38
'His color, which is browne and blacke,
Itt will make redd and whyte;
That sworde is not in all Englande
Upon his coate will byte.