Chapter III: Part 3

But who is this monarch? 1. We may perceive in it her apprehension of the envy which her success might excite in a strange country: for this reason she could not have written in France. 2. When at a loss for some single syllable, she sometimes intermixes in her verses words that are pure English, when the French word would not have suited the measure.--"Fire et chaundelez alumez." It should seem, therefore, that she wrote for the English, since her lines contain words that essentially belong to their language, and not at all to the _Romance_. 3. She dedicates her lays to a king who understood English, because she takes care to translate into that tongue all the Welsh and Armoric proper names that she was obliged to introduce. Thus in the Lay of _Bisclaveret_, she says, the English translate this name by that of _Garwaf_, (Were-wolf); in that of _Laustic_, that they call it _Nihtgale_ (Nightingale); and in that of _Chevrefeuille, Gotelef_, (Goatleaf) &c. It is certain, then, she composed for a king who understood English. 4. She tells us that she had declined translating Latin histories into _Romance_; because so many others having been thus occupied, her name would have been confounded with the multitude, and her labours unattended with honour. Now this circumstance perfectly corresponds with the reign of Henry III. when such a number of Normans and Anglo-Normans had, for more than half a century, translated from the Latin so many romances of chivalry; and especially those of the Round Table, which we owe to the Kings of England. 5. Fauchet and Pasquier inform us, that Mary lived about the middle of the 13th century, and this would exactly coincide with the reign of that prince.[10] 6. Denis Pyramu[11], an Anglo-Norman poet, speaks of Mary as an author, whose person was as much beloved as her writings, and who therefore must have lived in his own time. Now it is known that this poet wrote under Henry III. and this opinion could only be confuted by maintaining that it was rather a King of France of whom she speaks, which king must have been Louis VIII. or St. Louis his son. But this alteration will not bear the slightest examination; for how could it be necessary to explain Welsh and Armoric words to a French king in the English language? How could the writer permit herself to make use of English words, in many parts of her work, which would most probably be unintelligible to that prince, and most certainly so to the greatest part of his subjects? It is true that she sometimes explains them in Romance, but not always; and when, upon the other hand, she makes a constant practice of translating them into English, she proves to what sort of readers she was principally addressing herself. The list of the lays of Mary is omitted here, as a translation follows.

The smaller poems of Mary are, in general, of much importance, as to the knowledge of ancient chivalry. Their author has described manners with a pencil at once faithful and pleasing. She arrests the attention of her readers by the subjects of her stories, by the interest which she skilfully blends in them, and by the simple and natural language in which she relates them. In spite of her rapid and flowing style, nothing is forgotten in her details--nothing escapes her in her descriptions. With what grace has she depicted the charming deliverer of the unhappy Lanval! Her beauty is equally impressive, engaging, and seductive; an immense crowd follows but to admire her; the while palfrey on which she rides seems proud of his fair burden; the greyhound which follows her, and the falcon which she carries, announce her nobility. How splendid and commanding her appearance; and with what accuracy is the costume of the age she lived in observed! But Mary did not only possess a most refined taste, she had also to boast of a mind of sensibility. The English muse seems to have inspired her; all her subjects are sad and melancholy; she appears to have designed to melt the hearts of her readers, either by the unfortunate situation of her hero, or by some truly afflicting catastrophe. Thus she always speaks to the soul, calls forth all its feelings, and very frequently throws it into the utmost consternation.

Fauchet was unacquainted with the Lays of Mary, for he only mentions her fables[12]. But, what is more astonishing, Monsieur le Grand, who published many of her lays, has not ascribed them all to her. He had probably never met with a complete collection like that in the British Museum; but only some of those that had been separately transcribed; and, in that case, he could not have seen the preface, in which Mary has named herself.

The second work of our poetess consists of a collection of fables, generally called Aesopian, which she translated into French verse. In the prologue she informs her readers that she would not have engaged in it, but for the solicitation of a man who was "_the flower of chivalry and courtesy_," and whom, at the conclusion of her work, she styles _Earl William_.

Por amor le counte Guillaume,
Le plus vaillant de cest royaume,
Mentremis de cest livre faire,
Et de l'Anglois en Romans traire, &c.[13]

M. le Grand, in his preface to some of Mary's fables, which he has published in French prose, informs us that this person was _Earl William de Dampierre_. But William, Lord of Dampierre, in Champagne, had in himself no right whatever to the title of Earl. During the 13th century, this dignity was by no means assumed indiscriminately, and at pleasure, by French gentlemen; it was generally borne by whoever was the owner of a province, and sometimes of a great city, constituting an earldom: such were the earldoms of Flanders, of Artois, of Anjou, of Paris, &c. It was then, that these great vassals of the crown had a claim to the title of earl, and accordingly assumed it.[14] Now, the territory of Dampierre was not in this predicament during the 13th century; it was only a simple lordship belonging to the lords of that name.[15]

Convinced, as I am, that Mary did not compose her fables in France, but in England, it is rather in England that the Earl William, alluded to by Mary, is to be sought for; and luckily, the encomium she has left upon him is of such a nature, as to excite an opinion that he was William Longsword, natural son of Henry II. and created Earl of Salisbury and Romare by Richard Coeur de Lion. She calls him "_the flower of chivalry, the most valiant man in the kingdom_," etc.; and these features perfectly characterize William Longsword, so renowned for his prowess.[16] The praise she bestows on him expresses, with great fidelity, the sentiments that were entertained by his contemporaries; and which were become so general, that for the purpose of making his epitaph, it should seem that the simple eulogy of Mary would have sufficed.

Flos comitum, Wilhelmus obit, stirps regia, longus
Ensis vaginam capit habere brevem.[17]

This earl died in 1226;[18] so that Mary must have written her fables before that time. The brilliant reputation she had acquired by her lays, had no doubt determined William to solicit a similar translation of _Aesopian Fables_, which then existed in the English language. She, who in her lays had painted the manners of her age with so much nature and fidelity, would find no difficulty in succeeding in this kind of apologue. Both require that penetrating glance which can distinguish the different passions of mankind; can seize upon the varied forms which they assume; and marking the objects of their attention, discover, at the same moment, the means they employ to attain them. For this reason, her fables are written with all that acuteness of mind, that penetrates into the very inmost recesses of the human heart; and, at the same time, with that beautiful simplicity so peculiar to the ancient romance language, and which causes me to doubt whether La Fontaine has not rather imitated our author, than the fabulists either of Rome, or of Athens. It most, at all events, be admitted that he could not find, in the two latter, the advantages which the former offered him. Mary wrote in French, and at a time when that language, yet in its infancy, could boast of nothing but simple expressions, artless and agreeable turns, and, on all occasions, a natural and unpremeditated phraseology.

On the contrary, Aesop and Phaedrus, writing in Latin, could not supply the French fabulist with any thing more than subject matter and ideas; whilst Mary, at the same time that she furnished him with both, might besides have hinted expression, manner, and even rhyme. Let me add, that through the works of La Fontaine will be found scattered an infinite number of words in our ancient language, which are at this day unintelligible without a commentary.

There are, in the British Museum, three MS. copies of Mary's fables. The first is in the Cotton library, Vesp. b. xiv. the second in the Harleian, No. 4333; and the third in the same collection, No. 978. In the first, part of Mary's prologue is wanting, and the transcriber has entirely suppressed the conclusion of her work. This MS. contains only sixty-one fables. The second has all the prologue, and the conclusion. It has 83 fables. The third is the completest of all, and contains 104 fables. M. le Grand says that he has seen four MSS. of these fables in the libraries of Paris, but all different as to the number. He cites one in the library of St. Germain des Prés, as containing 66 fables; and another in the Royal Library, No. 7615, with 102.[19] As he has said nothing about the other MSS. it is to be supposed that he has purposely mentioned that which had the greatest number of fables, and that which had the least. Under this idea, the Harleian MS. No. 978, is the completest of all that have been yet cited.

In examining the manner in which she speaks of herself, we shall perceive she does not call herself _Marie de France_, as he has stated, but says _she is from France_.

Al finement de cest escrit,
Me nomerei par remembrance,
Marie ai non si suis de France, &c.[20]

If we consider well the latter verse, there will be no difficulty in perceiving that Mary wrote in England. Indeed, it was formerly a very common thing for authors to say that they were of such a city, and even to assume the name of it. Or even, when writing in Latin, state themselves either natives of England, or of France. But when an author writes in France, and in the language of the country, he does not say that _he is of France_. Now this precaution, on the part of Mary, implies that she wrote in a foreign country, the greater part of whose inhabitants spoke her native language; which was the case in England. She stated herself to be a native of France, that her works might be regarded as written in a purer and correcter style.

Monsieur le Grand does not believe that Mary really translated from a collection that existed in her time in the English language, under the title of the _Fables of Aesop_; but, if we examine the fables themselves, we shall discover in them internal evidence of their being translated from the English.

Mention is made of counties and their judges, of the great assemblies held there for the administration of justice, the king's writs, &c. &c. Now what other kingdom, besides England, was at that time divided into counties? What other country possessed similar establishments? But Mary has done more; in her French translation she has preserved many expressions in the English original; such as _welke_, in the fable of the Eagle, the Crow, and the Tortoise; _witecocs_, in that of the Three Wishes; _grave_, in that of the Sick Lion; _werbes and wibets_, in that of the Battle of the Flies with other Animals; _worsel_, in that of the Mouse and the Frog, &c.

The completest MS. of Mary's translation, has but 104 fables; out of which, 31 only are Aesop's. So the English version that she had before her, was not a true and complete translation of that fabulist, but a compilation from different authors, in which some of his fables had been inserted. Nevertheless, Mary has intitled her work, "_Cy Commence li Aesope_;" she repeats, also, that she had turned this fabulist into romance language. Mary, therefore, imagined that she was really translating Aesop; but her original had the same title; and I am the more convinced of this, because, in the Royal MS. before cited, which contains a collection of Aesopian fables, there are but 56. According to the introduction, they had been already translated into Latin prose, and then into English prose; and in this MS. as well as in Mary's, there are many fables and fabliaux ascribed to Aesop, which never could have been composed by him.

Again, if we compare the fables which generally pass for Aesop's, with those written by Mary, we shall perceive that the translation of the latter could never have been regarded as a literal version of the former. She is a great deal more particular than Aesop; her moralizations are not the same. In a word, I think she comes nearer to Phaedrus than to the Greek writer.

It will, no doubt be answered, that the Works of Phaedrus have only been known since the end of the 16th century. This I admit; but am not the less persuaded that Mary was better acquainted with Phaedrus than with Aesop. It will, moreover, be contended, that she has herself declared, that the English version, which served her as a model, was a translation from the Greek. To this I reply; first, that Phaedrus's fables may very properly be stiled _Aesopian_, as he has himself called them:

Aesopus auctor quam materiam reperit,
Hanc ego polivi versibus senariis.[21]

And, secondly, that although Mary possessed the fire, the imagination, and the genius of a poet, she nevertheless had not the criticism, or erudition, of a man of letters. For example; she informs us, that before her fables were translated into English, they had already been turned from Greek into Latin by Aesop.[22] She then gives the fable of an ox that assisted at mass, of a wolf that keeps Lent, of a monk disputing with a peasant, &c.

Amongst these compilers of fables, we find the names of Romulus, Accius, Bernardus, Talon, and many others anonymous. The first is the most celebrated; he has addressed his fables to his son Tiberius; they are written in Latin prose, sixty in number, and many of them are founded upon those of Aesop and Phaedrus. Rimilius published them at the end of the 15th century, and Frederic Nilant gave an edition in 1709, at Leyden, with some curious and interesting notes. Fabricius, in his Bibliotheca Latina, says, that these sixty fables are more than five hundred years old.[23] I have already mentioned that there is a MS. of them in the Royal Library in the British Museum, 15 A. VII., which was written in the 13th century, and contains only fifty-six fables. They are said, in the preface, to have been translated out of Greek into Latin, by the Emperor Romulus. Mary likewise mentions this Romulus, and gives him the same title. After having remarked with how much advantage learned men might occupy themselves, in extracting from the works of the ancient philosophers, proverbs, fables, and the morals they contained, for the purpose of instructing men, and training them to virtuous actions, she adds, that the emperor had very successfully pursued the plan, in order to teach his son how to conduct himself with propriety through life[24].

Vincent de Beauvois, a contemporary of Mary, speaks likewise of this Romulus and his fables[25]; and lastly, Fabricius informs us that this author has very much imitated Phaedrus, and often preserved even his expressions.[26] But, after all, it is uncertain who is this Romulus, thus invested with the title of emperor; whether the last Roman emperor of that name, who is likewise called Augustulus or Romulus the grammarian. I should rather attribute them to some monk of the 11th or 12th century. The rites of the Roman Catholic worship are several times alluded to, and entire passages of the Vulgate very frequently inserted.

It is, however, enough to know that in the time of Mary, there did actually exist a collection of fables called Aesopian, and published under the name of Romulus; that this author, whether real or imaginary, had very much imitated Phaedrus; that these Latin fables had been translated into English; that, without doubt, those of some other unknown writers were added to them; and, finally, that from this latter version Mary made her translation into French verse.

In a MS. of the fables of Mary, it is said this English version was the work of King Mires.[27] The Harleian MS. No. 978, makes the translation to have been King _Alurez_. The MS. cited by Pasquier, calls him King Auvert.[28] The MS. in the Royal Library, 15 A. VII. says the translation was made by the order of King _Affrus_; and, lastly, the Harleian MS. No. 4333, makes it the work of King _Henry_.

With respect to King _Alurez_ or _Auvert_, every one who has examined our ancient writers of romance, during the 12th and 13th centuries, must know that the name of Alfred was thus disfigured by them. Thus, two kings of England, Alfred and Henry, have a claim to that honour. But whence is it that the historian of Alfred, Asser, as well as William of Malmesbury, have mentioned the different translations of this prince, without having noticed that of Aesop?[29] Is it credible that an Anglo-Saxon version of the ninth century would have been intelligible to Mary, who had only learned the English of the thirteenth? Had not the lapse of time, and the descents of the Danes and Normans in the eleventh century, contributed, in the first place, to alter the Anglo-Saxon? and afterwards, during the twelfth, the rest of the people from the northern and western provinces of France, having become dependent upon England, did not they, likewise, by their commerce, and residence in that country, introduce a considerable change into its language? The names of Seneschal, Justiciar, Viscount, Provost, Bailiff, Vassal, &c. which occur in these fables, both in the Latin text and French translation by Mary, ought naturally to have been found in the English version. Now these several terms were all, according to Madox, introduced by the Normans;[30] and the morals to these fables, which make frequent allusion to the feudal system, prove more and more, that this English translation must have been posterior to the time of Alfred.

In the last place, the Harleian MS. No. 4333, ascribes the translation to King Henry. The Normans were acquainted with the fables of Aesop, or, at least, those which were attributed to him during the middle ages. The collateral heirs of Raoul de Vassy, who died in 1064, when, after the death of William the Conqueror, they found means to establish their claims against Robert Courthose; in asserting it, reproach his father with having made the _lion's partition_ in seizing Upon their inheritance.[31]

This proverbial expression very clearly shews that the writings of the Greek fabulist, or at least of those who had followed him, were known to the Normans from the eleventh century. It is possible, therefore, that Henry I. might have studied and translated them into English. Again, all historians agree in giving this prince the title of _Beauclerk_, though no one has assigned any reason for a designation so honourable: and this opinion would justify history, which has given to Henry a name with which authors alone were dignified.

Whether Mary followed the English version literally cannot be ascertained, as we do not even know whether it now exists; and are therefore under the necessity of collating her fables with those of the middle ages: and it appears, she translated from the English 104 fables into French verse; and of this number there are 65, the subjects of which had already been treated of by Aesop, Phaedrus, Romulus, and the anonymous author of the _Fabulae Antiquae_, published by Niland.

The English translation was not only compiled from these different authors, but from many other fabulists, whose names are unknown to us; since, out of the 104 fables of Mary, there are 39 which are neither found in the before mentioned authors, nor in any other known to us.

The English version contained a more ample assemblage of fables than that of Mary, since out of the 56 in the Royal MS. 15 A. VII, which made a part of the former, it appears that she made a selection of subjects that were pleasing to her, and rejected others. It is very singular, that England appears to have had fabulists during the ages of ignorance, whilst Athens and Rome possessed theirs only amidst the most refined periods of their literature.

Some may, perhaps, be disposed to conclude that the 39 additional fables were actually composed by Mary; but I believe, upon reflection, this opinion must be abandoned. She terms her work a translation, glories in the enterprize; and, if it had been only in part the labours of her genius, would scarcely have passed over that circumstance in silence.

Monsieur Le Grand has published 43 of Mary's fables in prose. His translation, however, is not always literal; and seems, in many places, to have departed from the original. He has likewise published many of the _fabliaux_, or little stories, which he has unadvisedly attributed to the transcribers of them, and which belong indisputably to her.

I have examined La Fontaine, to ascertain whether he were acquainted with the fables of Mary, and had actually borrowed his subjects from the 39 fables which are wanting in all the writers of this kind with whom we are at present acquainted; and have actually discovered, that he is indebted to them for those of the Drowning Woman, the Fox and the Cat, and the Fox and the Pigeon. From others he has only taken the subject, but changed the actors; and, by retouching the whole in his peculiar manner, has enriched them with a new turn, and given them an appearance of originality.

The third work of Mary consists of a history, or rather a tale, in French verse, of St. Patrick's Purgatory. This performance was originally commenced in Latin, at the Abbey of Saltrey, and dedicated to the abbot of that monastery, and is to be found in MS. in many public libraries. There are two translations of it into French verse. The first of these is in the Cotton Library, Domit. A. IV. and the second in the Harleian, No. 273, but they are not from the same pen: the former consists of near 1000 lines, and the latter of about 700. M. Le Grand has given an analysis of one of these translations in his _fabliaux_, vol. V.; and it is upon the authority of this writer that I have ascribed it to Mary, as he maintains that she was the author of it, but without adducing the necessary proofs for this assertion. The Cotton MS. however, contains nothing that gives the least support to M. Le Grand's opinion, or even screens it with probability. Neither is Mary's name mentioned in the Harleian MS.; but as the translator, in his preface, entitles the work "a lay," and professes he had rather engage in it than _relate fables_, it may afford a conjecture that Mary has sufficiently developed herself in speaking of her labours. This, however, is merely a conjecture. It is not impossible that the MS. which M. Le Grand consulted contained more particular details on this subject; but he is certainly mistaken in one respect, and that is, in supposing Mary to have been the original author of this piece, whilst all the MSS. that exist attest that she could have been only the translator: and if the translation in the Harleian MS. actually be her performance, she there positively declares that she had been desired to translate the work from Latin into Romance.

This poem was, at a very early period, translated into English verse. It is to be found in the Cotton library, Calig. A. II. under the title of _Owayne Miles_, on account, of Sir Owen being the hero of the piece, and whose descent into St. Patrick's purgatory is related. Walter de Metz, author of the poem entitled _Image du Monde_, mentions also the wonders of St. Patrick's purgatory, the various adventures of those who descended into it, and the condition of those who had the good fortune to return from it; but I am uncertain whether he speaks from the original Latin of the monk of Saltrey, or from Mary's French translation. In the latter case it should appear that Mary finished her translation before 1246, the year in which Walter says he composed his work.[32]

Whether Mary was the author of any other pieces I have not been able to ascertain: her taste, and the extreme facility with which she wrote poetry of the lighter kind, induce a presumption that she was; but I know of none that have come down to us.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] _Prologue des Lais de Marie._

[5] _Lai du chevrefeuille_.

[6] Pyramus, Vie de St Edmund, Bibl. Cotton. Domit. A. XI.

[7] Prolog. des Lais de Marie.

[8] It is reasonable to conclude, that writers flocked in greater numbers to the court where they were most in request, and were likely to be most liberally rewarded. Now it is evident that the Dukes of Normandy, when possessed of the crown of England, were incomparably more wealthy, though not in the same proportion more powerful, than the contemporary Kings of France; and it may be presumed that the crowd of candidates for their patronage, was consequently, much more numerous. Our Henry the Second possessed, in right of his father, Maine, Anjou, and Touraine; in right of his wife Eleanor, divorced by Louis le Jeune, the counties of Poictou and Guienne; in right of his mother Matilda, Normandy and England; and his power in the latter, the most valuable part of his dominions, was paramount and uncontrolled, while Louis was surrounded by powerful and rival vassals. We are, therefore, justified in suspecting that the courts of our Norman sovereigns, rather than those of the Kings of France, produced the birth of romance literature; and this suspicion is confirmed by the testimony of three French writers, whose authority is the more conclusive, because they have formed their opinion from separate and independent premises.

The first of these is M. de la Ravallere. In his Essay on the Revolutions of the French Language, a work of considerable learning, supported by original authorities, whose words he almost constantly quotes, he distinctly asserts that the pretended patronage of the French princes, anterior to Philippe Auguste, had no visible effect on their domestic literature; that while so many poets were entertained at the courts of the Anglo-Norman princes, no one can be traced to that of Louis le Jeune; that the chronicles of Britain and Normandy, the subjects chosen by Wace and his contemporaries, were not likely to _interest_ the French, &c.

The second authority is M. le Comte de Tressan, a writer, perhaps, of no deep research, but whose good taste is conclusive on points of internal evidence. In his preface to the prose romance of "La Fleur des Batailles," (one of those relating to Charlemagne) he says--The style and character of these romances lead us to think that they were composed at the court of the English kings, descended from William the Conqueror. We find in those of the Round Table, a marked affectation of dwelling on every thing which can contribute to the glory of the throne and court of England, whose princes and knights always play the chief and most brilliant part in the piece.

Thirdly, the Abbé de la Rue may be considered as having proved the fact, by pointing out, in English history, the persons to whom the original romances were addressed. His three dissertations on the Anglo-Norman poets, in the twelfth and thirteenth volume of the Archaelogia, will convince the reader that no man has studied, with more attention, the early history and poetry of France; and he has given it as his decided opinion, that "_it was from England and Normandy that the French received the first works which deserve to be cited in their language."--Ellis's Specimens of Early English Metrical Romances_.

[9] Prolog. des Lais de Marie.

[10] Oeuvres de Fauchet, 579. Recherches de la France, l.8. s. i.

[11] Pyramus loco citate.

[12] Oeuvres de Fauchet, p. 579.

[13] Conclusion of Mary's Fables.

[14] Dictionaire Raisonnée de Diplomatique Verbo _Comte_.

[15] Martineus Dict. Geographique, v. Dampierre.

[16] Sandford's Genealogical History of the Kings of England, p. 114.

[17] Ibid, p. 116, and M. Paris, p. 817

[18] Sandford, ibid.

[19] Fabliaux, vol. iv. p.330.

[20] Conclusion of Mary's Fables.

[21] Phaedr. Prolog. lib. i.

[22] Preface to Mary's Fables.

[23] Fabric. Bibl. Latin, lib. ii. c. 3.

[24] Preface to the Fables of Mary

[25] Vincent Bellovac, lib. iv. c. 2.

[26] Fabric. loco citato.

[27] Menage Diction. Etymol. V. Romans. Duchesne, Oeuvres de Maistre Alain Chartris, p. 861.

[28] Pasquier Recherches, liv. viii. c. 1.

[29] Asser, Vita Alfredi, Malsmb.

[30] Madox's Hist. of the Exchequer, c. 4.

[31] Ordoric. Vitalis Hist. apud Duchesne, pp. 488, 681, & 1084.

[32] See his Works amongst the Harleian MSS. No. 4333.

APPENDIX II.

MARIE'S LAYS.

Versions of only two of the Lays can be given; but it will be better to lay before the reader an abstract of the whole collection, which is in many respects interesting, because it was certainly written in this country, was never printed, and is known to exist only in one manuscript, viz. Harl. MSS. No. 978.

About 56 lines at the beginning of the work are intended as a general prologue; and 26 more form the introduction to the first Lay. This prefatory matter is written in a style of considerable obscurity, which the author defends by the example of the ancients, and quotes Priscian as her authority. But the doctrine she means to inculcate is, that those who possess talents are bound to employ them; and that study is always good as a preservative from vice and from affliction. She tells us, she had therefore form'd a plan of translating, from Latin into romance, _some good history_, but found her project had been anticipated by others. She then thought of the numerous lays which she _had heard, and carefully treasured in her memory_. These, she was sure, must be new to the generality of her readers; and, in this confidence, she offers to the king the fruits of her labours. After complaining she has met with envy and persecution where she deserved praise, she declares her intention to persevere, and relate, as briefly as possible, such stories as she _knows to be true_, and to have been _formed into lays by the Britons_.

Les contes ke jeo sai _rerrais,
Dunt li Bretun ont fait ces lais_,
Vus conterai asez briefment, &c.

The Lays are twelve in number; nine of which, with the above introduction, are extracted, with some trifling abridgment, from the Specimens of early English Metrical Romances, by George Ellis, Esq.; the two in verse from Way's Fabliaux; and the other from the notes to Sir Tristrem, by Walter Scott, Esq.

No. 1.--_The Lay of_ SIR GUGEMER, _or_ GUIGEMAR.

While Arthur reign'd, (so chim'd, in earlier day,
Loud to the twanging harp the Breton lay,)
While Arthur reign'd, two kingdoms born to bless,
Great Britain's king, and suzerain of the less;
A lord of Leon, one of fair report
Among the vassal barons of his court,
Own'd for his son a youth more bravely thew'd
Than aught both countries yet had seen of good.
Dame Nature gave the mould; his sire combin'd
Due culture, exercise of limbs and mind,
Till the rare strippling, now no longer boy,
Chang'd his fond parents' fearful hope for joy.

His name was Gugemar: as strength grew on,
To Arthur's court the sire consign'd his son.
There soon in feats of arms the youth excell'd,
Magnanimous, in sports, or deadly field.

Chief of the Table-round, from time to time
Illustrious Arthur mark'd his opening prime,
Then dealt him noble meed; the honour high,
From his own hand, of glorious chivalry.

Knightly in arms he was; one grievous blot,
So deem'd full many a courtly dame, I wot,
Cross'd the full growth of his aspiring days,
And dimm'd the lustre of meridian praise:
With bootless artifice their lures they troll'd;
Still, Gugemer lov'd not, or nothing told.
The court's accustom'd love and service done,
To his glad sire returns the welcome son.
Now with his father dwelt he, and pursued
Such pastimes as are meet for youth of noble blood.
The woods of Leon now would shrilly sound
Oft with his joyous shout and choral hound
At length, one morn his disadventurous dart,
Lanc'd, as the game was rous'd, at hind or hart,
Wing'd through the yielding air its weetless way,
And pierc'd unwares a metamorphos'd fay.
Lo! back recoiling straight, by fairy craft,
Back to its master speeds the reeking shaft;
Deep in his sinewy thigh inflicts a wound,
And strikes the astonish'd hunter to the ground,
While, with a voice which neither bray'd nor spoke,
Thus fearfully the beast her silence broke:--
"Pains, agonizing pains must thou endure,
Till wit of lady's love shall work the cure:
Wo, then, her fated guerdon she shall find
The heaviest that may light on womankind!"

Sir Gugemer, who strove, with courage vain,
Up from the earth to rise, distraught with pain,
While hies his varlet home for succour strong,
Crawls slow with trailing limb the sward along;
'Twas part precipitate, steep rocky shore;
Hoarse at its foot was heard old Ocean's roar;
And in a shelter'd cove at anchor rode,
Close into land, where slept the solemn flood,
A gallant bark, that with its silken sails
Just bellying, caught the gently rising gales,
And from its ebon sides shot dazzling sheen
Of silvery rays with mingled gold between.
A favouring fairy had beheld the blow
Dealt the young hunter by her mortal foe:
Thence grown his patroness, she vows to save,
And cleaves with magick help the sparkling wave:
Now, by a strange resistless impulse driven,
The knight assays the lot by fortune given:
Lo, now he climbs, with fairy power to aid,
The bark's steep side, on silken cordage stay'd;
Gains the smooth deck, and, wonders to behold,
A couch of cypress spread with cloth of gold,
While from above, with many a topaz bright,
Two golden globes sent forth their branching light:
And longer had he gaz'd, but sleep profound,
Wrought by the friendly fairy, wrapt him round.
Stretch'd on the couch the hunter lies supine,
And the swift bark shoots lightly o'er the brine.
For, where the distant prospect fading dies,
And sea and land seem mingling with the skies,
A massy tower of polish'd marble rose;
There dwelt the fair physician of his woes:
Nogiva was the name the princess bore;
Her spouse old, shrewd, suspicious evermore,
Here mew'd his lovely consort, young and fair,
And watch'd her with a dotard's bootless care.
Sure, Love these dotards dooms to jealous pain,
And the world's laugh, when all their toil proves vain.
This lord, howe'er, did all that mortal elf
Could do, to keep his treasure to himself:
Stay'd much at home, and when in luckless hour
His state affairs would drag him from his tower,
Left with his spouse a niece himself had bred,
To be the partner of her board and bed;
And one old priest, a barren lump of clay,
To chant their mass, and serve them day by day.
Her prison room was fair; from roof to floor
With golden imageries pictur'd o'er;
There Venus might be seen, in act to throw
Down to the mimick fire that gleam'd below
The 'Remedies of Love' Dan Ovid made;
Wrathful the goddess look'd, and ill-repaid;
And many more than I may well recall,
Illumining throughout the sumptuous wall.
For the old ghostly guide--to do him right--
He harbour'd in his breast no jailor's spite;
Compassionate and poor, he bore in mind
His prisoner's health might languish, much confin'd
And oft would let her feet and fancy free,
Wander along the margin of the sea.
There then it chanc'd, upon the level sand,
That aunt and niece were pacing hand in hand,
When onward to the marble tower they spied
With outspread sail the fairy vessel glide:
Both felt a momentary fear at first,
(As women oft are given to think the worst)
And turn'd for flight; but ere they far were fled,
Look'd round to view the object of their dread;
Then, seeing none on board, they backward hied,
Perchance by fairy influence fortified,
Where the trim bark was run its course to end,
And now both dames its ebon deck ascend;
There on a couch, a silken pall beneath,
So wrapt in sleep he scarcely seem'd to breathe,
Sir Gugemer they spied, defil'd with gore,
And with a deadly pale his visage o'er:
They fear them life was fled; and much his youth,
And much his hap forlorn did move their ruth:
With lily hand his heart Nogiva press'd,
"It beats!" she cried, "beats strong within his breast!"
So loud her sudden voice express'd delight,
That from his swoon awoke the wondering knight:
His name, his country, straight the dames demand,
And what strange craft had steer'd his bark to land?
He, on his elbow rais'd, with utterance weak,
Such as his feeble strength avail'd to speak,
Recounts his piteous chance, his name, his home,
How up the vessel's side ere while he clomb,
And then sunk down in sleep; but who impell'd
Its ebon keel, or tissued canvas swell'd,
He wist not: faint, and lacking vital heat,
He sought some needful aid from looks so sweet.
"So brave a knight!--to yield of succour nought--
What heart of flint could cherish such a thought?
Yet where to harbour him, and how to hide?--
The husband not at home, means must be tried!"--
So thought these dames, I ween, that fateful hour,
While feebly onward to the marble tower,
Propp'd, right and left, by snowy shoulders twain,
Sir Gugemer repair'd with mickle pain.
There on a bed of down they plac'd their guest,
Cleans'd the deep wound, with healing balsam dress'd,
Brought, for his plight most fit, choice simple food,
And, watchful how he far'd, attendant stood;
Till now returning strength grew swiftly on,
And his firm voice confess'd his anguish gone.
In sooth, the fay, protectress of his worth,
Had shower'd down balm, unknown to wights on earth;
One night achieves his cure; but other smart
Plays o'er the weetless region of his heart;
Pains, such as beam from bright Nogiva's eyes,
Flit round his bed, and quiral [Errata: genial] slumber flies.
Now, as the ruddy rays of morning peer,
Him seem'd his kind physician's step drew near;
She comes; his cheeks with new-found blushes burn;
Nogiva--she, too, blushes in her turn:
Love sure had neither spar'd; yet at the last
Faintly she asks him how the night had pass'd?
O! how the trembling patient then confess'd
Strange malady at heart, and banish'd rest:
And sued once more for life, restor'd so late,
Now hers alone to grant, the mistress of his fate.
She speaks assurance kind with witching smile,
"No ill from sickness felt so little while!"
Yet nought the knight believes; a kiss, I ween,
Fell from her dainty lips, and clos'd the scene.

One year or more within some secret bower,
So dwelt the knight beneath the marble tower;
Thoughts of his sire, at last, how he might bear
His son's long absence, so awaken'd care,
Needs must he back to Leon: vainly here
Sues fond Nogiva's interdicting tear.
"Sad leave reluctantly I yield!" she cries,
"Yet take this girdle, knit with mystick ties,
Wed never dame till first this secret spell
Her dextrous hands have loosen'd:--so farewell!"
"Never, I swear, my sweet! so weal betide!"
With heavy heart Sir Gugemer replied;
Then hied him to the gate, when lo! at hand
Nogiva's hoary lord is seen to stand,
(Brought by the fairy foe's relentless ire,)
And lustily he calls for knight and squire:
Now with his trusty blade, of temper good,
The stout knight clears his course to ocean's flood,
Sweeps right and left the scatter'd rout away,
And climbs the bark of his protectress fay;
Light glides the ebon keel the waters o'er,
And his glad footsteps press his native shore.

His father, who had long time, woe-begone,
Bewail'd the absence of his darling son;
Ween'd the best course to hold him now for life,
Should be to link him closely to a wife.
Sir Gugemer, urg'd sore, at length avows,
He never will take woman's hand for spouse,
Save her's, whose fingers, skill'd in ladies' lore,
Shall loose that knot his mystick girdle bore.

Straight all that Bretany contain'd of fair,
Widows, and dainty maids, the adventure dare:
Clerks were they all, I ween; but knots like these
May not be loos'd when earthly beauties please.

Thus while it fares with those, in dungeon deep
See sad Nogiva never cease to weep!
Doom'd by her jealous lord's revengeful mood,
The well her beverage, bitter bread her food,
Lo there with iron gyves chain'd down she lies,
And wails unheard her hopeless miseries:
Scarce brooking longer life, but that the thought
Of Gugemer some gleams of solace brought:
Him would she name full oft, and oft implore
Heaven, but to view his winning face once more.
Long had she sorrow'd thus; her fairy friend
Hears at the last, and bids her sufferings end:
Burst by her magic touch the fetters fall,
Wide springs the gate, and quakes the obdurate wall;
Close to the shore the enchanted pinnace glides,
Feels its fair guest within its arching sides,
Then ploughs the foaming main with gallant state,
Till Bretany's far coast receives the freight.
Meriadus--(that name the monarch bore,
Where first Nogiva's footsteps prest the shore,)
Meriadus such charms not vainly view'd;
He saw, felt love, and like a sovereign woo'd:
She briefly answers:--"None this heart may move,
This bosom none inspire with mutual love,
Save he whose skill this girdle shall unbind,
Fast round my waist with mystick tie confin'd."
Much strove Meriadus, strove much in vain,
Strove every courtly gallant of his train:
All foil'd alike, he blazons far and wide
A tournament, and there the emprize be tried!
There who may loose the band, and win the expectant bride!
Sir Gugemer, when first the tidings came
Of the quaint girdle, and the stranger dame.
Ween'd well Nogiva's self, his dame alone,
Bore this mysterious knot so like his own.
On to the tournament elate he hies,
There his liege lady greets his wistful eyes:
What now remain'd? "Meriadus! once more
I view," he cries, "the mistress I adore;
Long have our hearts been one! great king, 'tis thine
Twin [Errata: Twain] lovers, sadly sunder'd long, to join.
So will I straight do homage, so remain
Thy liegeman three full years, sans other gain,
Thine with a hundred knights, and I their charge maintain."
Brave was the proffer, but it prosper'd nought;
Love rul'd alone the unyielding monarch's thought.
Then Gugemer vows vengeance, then in arms
Speaks stern defy, and claims Nogiva's charms:
And, for his cause seem'd good, anon behold
Many a strange knight, and many a baron bold,
Brought by the tourney's fame, on fiery steeds
Couch lance to aid; and mortal strife succeeds.
Long time beleagur'd gape the castle walls;
First in the breach the indignant monarch falls:
Nogiva's lord next meets an equal fate;
And Gugemer straight weds the widow'd mate.

No. II.--EQUITAN;

A prince of Bretagne, so passionately attached to chivalrous amusements, that he cared neither for business nor gallantry. Nothing but the necessity of heading his troops could withdraw him from the pleasures of hunting and hawking; and all affairs of state were managed by his steward, a man of equal loyalty and experience. Unfortunately this steward had a beautiful wife: the prince heard her much praised; and insensibly began to think his sport most agreeable, when it conducted him, at the end of the day, to the steward's castle; where he had a natural opportunity of seeing and conversing with the lovely hostess. Overcome by his passion, almost before he was conscious of it, he began by reflecting on the baseness of the part he was preparing to act; and ended, by determining not to endure the misery of privation and disappointment, if he could succeed in seducing her. Having devised, in the course of a sleepless night, as many arguments as were necessary to satisfy his own morality, and formed a plan for securing a long interview, he set off for the chase; returning after a short time, under pretence of sudden indisposition, and retiring to bed, he sent to request a visit from the lady, who then received a very long and eloquent declaration of love. To this she replied, at first, by proper expostulations; but when at length assured, with the utmost solemnity, that if her husband was dead she should become the partner of his throne, she suddenly gave way, and proposed, with his assistance, to destroy the steward, so artfully, that neither should incur the slightest suspicion. Equitan, far from being startled at this atrocious proposition, assured her of his concurrence, and she continued thus: "Return, sir, for the present, to your court; then come to pursue your diversion in this forest, and again take up your abode under our roof. You must once more pretend to be indisposed; cause yourself to be blooded; and on the third day order a bath, invite my husband to bathe and afterwards to dine with you. I will take care to prepare the bathing tubs: that which I destine for him shall be filled with boiling water, so that he will be instantly scalded to death; after which you will call in your and his attendants, and explain to them how your affectionate steward had expired in the act of bathing." At the end of three months every thing was arranged for the execution of this diabolical plot; but the steward, who had risen early for some purpose of business or amusement, happening to stay rather beyond the time, the lovers had met during his absence, forgetting that their guilty project was not yet accomplished. A maid was stationed at the door, near which stood the fatal bath; but the husband returning with precipitation, suddenly forced it open, in spite of her feeble opposition, and discovered his wife in the arms of Equitan. The prince, under the first impulse of surprize and remorse, started from the bed, and, heedlessly plunging into the boiling bath, was instantly suffocated or scalded to death. The husband, almost at the same instant, seized on his guilty partner, and threw her headlong after her paramour. Thus were the wicked punished, by the means which they contrived for the destruction of another; and such is the substance of the lay which was composed by the Bretons under the name of Equitan.

* * * * *

No. III.--LAY LE FRAINE.

This ancient and curious little poem, translated from the French of Marie, is preserved in the Auchinlech MSS. It was communicated by Mr. Walter Scott to Mr. Ellis, and is inserted amongst his Miscellaneous Romances. It is mutilated in two places, and wants the conclusion. These defects are supplied from the French prose.

The prologue begins by observing, that in ancient times, lays, intended to be accompanied by the harp, were composed on all sorts of subjects.

Some both of war, and some of woe;
And some of joy and mirth also;
And some of treachery and of guile;
Of old aventures that fell while;
And some of _bourdes_[33] and ribaudy;
And many there beth of fairy;
Of all thinges that men seth,
Most of love, forsooth, there beth.
In Bretayne, by old time,
These lays were made, so sayeth this rhyme, &c.

The Bretons never failed converting into lays all the anecdotes they thought worth consigning to memory; and the following was thus composed, and called Lay le Fraine (frêne), or "The Aventure of the Ash."

In the "West countrie" lived two knights, men of opulence, friends from their infancy, and married about the same time. One of the ladies having twins, her husband sent to announce the event to his friend.

The messenger goth, and hath nought forgete,
And findeth the knight at his mete;
And fair he gret, in the hall,
The lord, the levedi, the meynè all;
And sith then, on knees down him set,
And the lord full fair he gret.
"He bade that thou should to him _te_,[34]
And, for love, his _gossibbe_[35] be."
"Is his levedi deliver'd _with sounde?_"[36]
"Ya, sir, y-thonked be God, _yestronde._"[37]
"And whether a maiden child, other a knave?"
"Tway sones, sir, God hem save!"
The knight thereof was glad and blithe,
And thonked Godes sonde swithe,
And granted his errand in all thing,
And gaf him a palfray for his tiding.
Then was the lady of the house
A proud dame, and malicious,
_Hoker-full, iche mis-segging_,[38]
Squeamous, and eke scorning;
To iche woman she had envie;
She spake these words of felonie:
"Ich have wonder, thou messenger,
Who was thy lordes conseillor,
To teach him about to send,
And tell shame _in iche an end!_"[39]
"That his wife hath tway children y-bore!
Well may iche man wite therfore
That tway men her han hodde in bower:
That is hir bothe dishonour!"

The messenger was sorely abashed by these unexpected and unjust reflections; the husband reprimanded his wife very severely for the intemperance of her tongue; and all the women of the country, amongst whom the story rapidly circulated, united in prayer, that her calumny might receive some signal punishment. Accordingly, the lady shortly after brought into the world two daughters. She was now reduced to the alternative of avowing herself guilty of a calumny against her innocent neighbour, or of imputing to herself, in common with the other, a crime of which she had not been guilty; unless she could contrive to remove one of the twins. The project of destroying her own child, was, at first, rejected with horror; but after revolving the subject in her mind, and canvassing with great logical acuteness the objections to this atrocious measure, she determined to adopt it, because she could ultimately cleanse herself from the sin, by doing private penance, and obtaining absolution.

Having thus removed her scruples, she called the midwife, and directed her to destroy one of the infants, and to declare that one only had been born. But she refused; and the unnatural mother was reduced to seek for a more submissive and supple agent. She had a maid-servant, educated in the family, to whom she imparted her difficulties; and this confidential counsellor at once proposed a contrivance for removing them: "Give me the child," said she, "and be assured that, without destroying, I will so remove it, that it shall never give you any further trouble. There are many religious houses in the neighbourhood, whose inhabitants cannot be better employed than in nursing and educating orphan children. I will take care your infant shall be discovered by some of these good people, under whose care, by the blessing of Providence, it will thrive and prosper; and in the mean time I will take such means that its health shall not suffer. Dismiss your sorrow, therefore, and trust in my discretion." The lady was overjoyed, and accepted the offer with assurances of eternal gratitude.

As it was her wish that those who should find the child might know it was born of noble parents,

She took a rich _baudekine_,[40]
That her lord brought from _Constantine_,[41]
And lopped the little maiden therein;
And took a ring of fine gold,
And on her arm it knit,
With a lace of silk in _plit._[42]