Song and Legend From the Middle Ages
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William D. McClintock and Porter Lander McClintock >> Song and Legend From the Middle Ages
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She is at last revealed to him, and all ends happily.
Sec. 41.--
Now when Aucassin did hear
Of his own bright favored fere,
That she had arrived his shore,
Glad he was as ne'er before.
Forth with that fair dame he made
Nor until the hostel stayed.
Quickly to the room they win,
Where sat Nicolette within.
When she saw her love once more,
Glad she was as ne'er before.
Up she sprang upon her feet,
And went forward him to meet.
Soon as Aucassin beheld,
Both his arms to her he held,
Gently took her to his breast,
All her face and eyes caressed.
Long they lingered side by side;
And the next day by noontide Aucassin her lord became;
Of Beaucaire he made her Dame.
After lived they many days,
And in pleasure went their ways.
Now has Aucassin his bliss,
Likewise Nicolette ywis.
Ends our song and story so;
No more I know.
DIDACTIC LITERATURE.
France produced, along with its heroic poetry, its romances,
tales, and lyrics, much serious and allegorical work. This was in
the shape of homilies, didactic poems, and long allegories
touching manners and morals. Of these last the most famous and
important is "The Romance of the Rose". It was the most popular
book of the Middle Ages in France. It was begun by William of
Lorris about 1240, the first draft extending to 4670 lines. Some
forty years later, Jean de Meung, or Clapinel, wrote a
continuation extending the poem to 22,817 lines. The general
story is of a visit to a garden of delights, on the outside of
which are all unlovely things. Within the garden the personages
and action are allegories of the art of love. Here are Leisure,
Enjoyment, Courtesy, the God of Love himself, love in the form of
a beautiful Rose, Gracious Reception, Guardianship, Coyness, and
Reason. Our extracts are taken from the translation into English
attributed--it now seems with great probability--to Chaucer.
NOTE.--These extracts from Chaucer's translation are not
re-translated nor adapted. Chaucer's words are retained in every
case. Their spelling is modernized. In those cases in which they
needed for the rhythm, certain inflectional endings, e, en, es,
are retained and are printed in parentheses. The reader has only
to remember that he must pronounce every syllable needed to make
the lines rhythmical. In only four cases has the rhyme been
affected by the changed spelling. For defense of this modern
spelling of Chaucer, the reader is referred to Lounsbury's
"Studies in Chaucer," Vol. III., pp. 264-279.
Ll. 49-91.--
That it was May me thought(e) tho[1]
It is five year or more ago;
That it was May, thus dreamed me,
In time of love and jollity.
That all thing 'ginneth waxen gay,
For there is neither busk nor hay[2]
In May, that it nill[3] shrouded been
And [4] it with new(e) leaves wrene[5]
These wood(e)s eek recover green,
That dry in winter been to seen;[6]
And the earth waxeth proud withal
For sweet dews that on it fall.
And the poor estate forget
In which that winter had it set.
And then becometh the ground so proud,
That it will have a new(e) shroud,
And maketh so quaint his robe and fair
That it had hews an hundred pair,
Of grass and flowers, inde and perse[7]
And many hew(e)s full diverse:
That is the robe, I mean, ivis,[8]
Through which the ground to praise(n)[9] is.
The birds that have(n) left their song,
While they have suffered cold so strong,
In weathers grill [10] and dark to sight,
Ben [11] in May for [12] the sun(en) bright
So glad(e), that they show in singing
That in (t)heir hearts is such liking,[13]
That they mote [14] sing(en) and be light.
Then doth the nightingale her might
To make noise and sing(en) blithe,
Then is bussful many sithe,[15]
The calandra [16] and the popinjay.[17]
Then young(e) folk entend(en)[18] aye
For to be gay and amorous,
The time is then so favorous.[19]
Hard is the heart that loveth nought,
In May when all this mirth is wrought:
When he may on these branches hear
The small(e) bird(e)s sing(en) clear
(T)heir blissful' sweet song piteous,
And in this season delightous[20]
When love affrayeth[21] all(e) thing.
[1] Then. [2] Bush nor hedge. [3] Will not. [4] As if. [5] Were
covered. [6] Are to be seen. [7] Azure and sky-colored. [8]
Certainly. [9] To be praised. [10] Severe. [11] Are. [12] On
account of. [13] Good bodily condition. [14] Must. [15] Times.
[16] A kind of lark. [17] Parrot. [18] Attend. [19] Favorable.
[20] Delightful. [21] Moveth.
The poet sees in vision the Garden of Love. He knocks at "a wiket
smalle," which was finally opened by a maiden.
Ll. 539.--
Her hair was as yellow of hew
As any basin scoured new,
Her flesh tender as is a chick,
With bent brow(e)s, smooth and sleek;
And by measure large were,
The opening of her eyen [1]clere,
Her nose of good proportion,
Her eyen [1] gray as is a falcon,
With sweet(e) breath and well savored,
Her face white and well colored,
With little mouth and round to see;
A clove[2] chin eek had(de) she.
Her neek(e) was of good fashion[3]
In length and greatness by reason,[4]
Without(e) blain(e),[5] scab or roigne.[6]
From Jerusalem unto Burgoyne,
There nys [7] a fairer neck, iwis,[8]
To feel how smooth and soft it is.
Her throat also white of hew
As snow on branch(e) snowed new.
Of body full well wrought was she;
Men needed not in no country
A fairer body for to seek,
And of fine orphreys [9] had she eek
A chap(e)let; so seemly one,
Ne[10] I werede never maid upon,
And fair above that chap(e)let
A rose garland had she set.
She had a gay mirror,
And with a rich(e) gold treasure
Her head was tressed [11] quaint(e)ly;
Her sleeves sewed fetisely,[12]
And for to keep her hand(e)s fair
Of gloves white she had a pair.
And she had on a coat of green,
Of cloth of Gaunt; without(e) ween[13]
Well seemed by her apparel
She was not wont to great travail,
For when she kempto was fetisely[14]
And well arrayed and rich(e)ly
Then had she done all her journey;
For merry and well begun was she.
She had a lusty[15] life in May,
She had no thought by night nor day,
Of no thing but if it were only
To graith[16] her well and uncouthly.[17]
When that this door had opened me
This May, seemly for to see,
I thanked her as I best might,
And asked her how that she hight[18]
And what she was' I asked eek.
And she to me was nought unmeek [19]
Ne of her answer dangerous [20]
But fair answered and said(e) thus:
"Lo, sir, my name is Idleness;
So clepe[21] men me, more and less."
Full mighty and full rich am I,
And that of one thing, namely,"
For I entend(e)[28] to no thing
But to my joy, and my playing,
And for to kemb[29] and tress(e)[30] me.
Acquainted am I and privy
With Mirth(e), lord of this garden,
That from the land of Alexander
Made the trees hither be fet[31]
That in this garden be i-set.
And when the trees were waxen on height[32]
This wall, that stands here in thy sight,
Did Mirth enclose(n) all about;
And these images[33] all without
He did 'em both entail[43] and paint.
That neither be joly,[35] nor quaint,[36]
But they be full of sorrow and woe
As thou hast seen a while ago.
"And oft(e) time him to solace,
Sir Mirth(e) cometh into this place
And eek with him cometh his meiny[37]
That live in lust[38] and jollity,
And now is Mirth therein to hear
The bird(e)s, how they sing(en) clear
The mavis and the nightingale,
And other jolly bird(e)s small,
And thus he walketh to solace
Him and his folk; for sweeter place
To play(en) in he may not find,
Although he sought one in till[39] Inde.[40]
The alther fairest[41] folk to see
That in this world may found(e) be
Hath Mirth(e) with him in his rout,
That follow him always about.
. . . . .
And forth without(e) word(e)s mo,[42]
In at that wicket went I tho,[43]
That idleness had opened me,
Into that garden fair to see.
[1] Eyes. [2] Dimpled. [3] Form. [4] Proportion. [5] Pustule. [6]
Pimple. [7] Is not. [8] Certainly. [9] Fringe of gold. [10] Not.
[11] Wore. [12] Plaited. [13] Neatly. [14] Doubt. [15] Combed,
ironed. [16] Day's work. [17] In fine form. [18] Pleasant. [19]
Dress. [20] Unusually, elegantly. [21] Was called. [22] Bold.
[23] Sparing. [24] Name. [25] Great and small. [26] Chiefly. [27]
Attend. [29] Comb. [30] Plait. [31] Fetched. [32] Were grown to
a height. [33] The pictures on the outside of the wall. [34]
Scarve.[35] Joyful, pleasant. [36] Unusual, queer. [37] Retinue.
[38] Pleasure. [39] To. [40] India. [41] Fairest of all. [42]
More. [43] Then.
After wandering about the garden hearing the birds and getting
acquainted with the inhabitants, he saw
Among a thousand thing(e)s mo[1]
A roser [2] charged full of roses,
That with an hedge about enclosed is.
Tho[3] had I such lust[4] and envy,
That for Paris nor for Pavie,
Nolde[5]I have left to go at see
There greatest heap of roses be.
When I was with this rage hent[6]
That caught hath many a man and shent[7]
Toward the roser I gan go.
And when I was not far therefro,[8]
The savor of the roses sweet
Me smote right to the heart(e) root
As I had all embalmed be.
And if I had ne[9] endoubted[10] me
To have been hated or assailed,
Me thank(e)s[11] would I not been failed
To pull a rose of all that rout,[12]
To bear(en) in my hand about
And smell(en) to it where I went;
But ever I dreaded me to repent,
And lest it grieved or forthought[13]
The lord that thilke[14] garden wrought,
Of roses there were great(e) wone,[15]
So fair(e) waxe [16] never in Rone.[17]
Of knop(e)s[18] close,[19] some saw I there
And some well better waxen[20] were,
And some there be of other moison[21]
That drew(e) nigh to their season,
And sped 'em fast(e) for to spread;
I love well such roses red;
For broad[22] roses, and open also,
Be passed in a day or two;
But knop(e)s[18] will(e) fresh(e) be
Two day(e)s at the least, or three,
The knop(e)s greatly liked[23]me,
For fairer may there no man see
Whoso might have one of all
It aught him be full lief[24]withall.
Might I one garland of 'em get
For no riches I would it let.[25]
Among the knop(e)s I chose one
So fair, that of the remnant none
Ne prize I half so well as it,
When I avise[26] it is my wit.
In it so well was enlumined
With color red, as well y-fined[27]
As nature couthe[28]it make fair.
And it had leaves well four pair,
That Kynde[29] hath set through his knowing
About the red roses springing.
The stalk(e) was as rush(e) right
And thereon stood the knop upright,
That it ne bowed upon no side,
The sweet(e) smell(e) sprang so wide
That it did[30] all the place about.
When I had smelled the savor sweet
No will had I from thence yet go
But somedeal[31] nearer it went I tho[32]
To take it: but mine hand for dread
Ne durst I to the rose bede[33]
For thistles sharp of many manners,
Nettles, thornes, and hooked briers;
For mickle they disturbed me,
For sore I dreaded to harmed be.
[1] More. [2] Rose-bush. [3] Then. [4] Desire. [5] Would not. [6]
Seized. [7] Ruined. [8] There from. [9] Not. [10] Feared. [11]
Willingly. [12] Company. [13] Caused to repent. [14] That. [15]
Quantity. [16] Waxed, grew. [17] Provence. [18] Buds. [19]
Closed. [20] Much better grown. [21] Harvest. [22] Blown. [23]
Pleased. [24] Pleasing. [25] Let go. [26] Consider.[27] Polished.
[28] Knew how. [29] Nature. [30] Filled. [31] Somewhat. [32]
Then. [33] Offer.
CHAPTER II. SPANISH LITERATURE.
The golden age of Spanish literature embraces the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries; but the twelfth and thirteenth centuries
were, in Spain as in other European countries, a period of
special literary activity. The impulses at work were the same as
those to be noted in contemporary France, England, and Germany,
and the work produced of the same general types. The chief phases
of Spanish mediaeval literature are these:
1. Epic and heroic poetry. Here, as elsewhere, heroic ballads
grew up about the national heroes. These were gradually fused
into long epic poems by the wandering minstrels. The best of
these Chansons de Geste are (1) "The Poem of the Cid", (2)
"Rhymed Chronicle of the Cid". Both of them belong probably to
the twelfth century.
2. Romances. Many romances, or short semi-epic poems, grew up
about the Cid. Of others, some were of the Carlovingian cycle,
the most famous being that concerning Bernardo del Carpio, the
traditional rival and conqueror of Roland. Some were devoted to
the Arthurian legend. This latter cycle of stories was immensely
popular in Spain, though rather in translation and imitation than
in original works. In the fourteenth century these older romances
were technically called "books of chivalry" and their popularity
and influence was widespread.
3. Lyric poetry. There seems to have been no special development
of lyric poetry early in Spain, such as is found in France. The
earliest noteworthy lyric poet is Juan Ruiz (1300-1350).
4. Didactic literature. As early as the first half of the
thirteenth century, we have in Spain a strong didactic
literature. Gonzalo de Berceo (d. 1268) wrote many lives of the
saints, miracles, hymns to the Virgin, and other devotional
pieces. But the impulse to allegorizing does not seem to come to
Spain till much later.
5. Fables and tales. Though a little later in being developed in
Spain than in France, the same delight was taken in fables and
short tales. About the middle of the fourteenth century, Juan
Manul (d. 1349) made, in his "El Conde Lucanor", a large
collection of these tales.
6. Chronicles. Spain had early an excellent school of
chroniclers. An example of their work is The General Chronicle of
Spain, compiled under Alphonso the Wise (d. 1284).
ANCIENT BALLADS.
Romantic ballads grew up in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries
in Spain, centering chiefly about the national hero, Rodrigo Diaz
de Bivar, who was called THE CID, some account of whom is
necessary in order to an understanding of the poems.
History--Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar, born 1030-40, died 1099, was the
foremost warrior of the great struggle between the Christians and
the Moors in Spain. The Moors called him the CID (Seid, the
Lord), and the Champion (El Campeador). He was a vigorous,
unscrupulous fighter, now on one side, now on the other. He was
at one time entrusted with high embassies of state, at others, a
rebel. His true place in history seems to be that of a great
freebooter and guerrilla. His contemporary fame was really great.
Legend--During the lifetime of the CID many marvels and myths
grew up about him, and within the next century they became almost
numberless. He became the hero of poet and of romancer to the
Spanish people. His story was told everywhere by the wandering
minstrels, and his name became the center of all popular
romances.
Literature.--At once, then, a large literature sprang up
concerning the CID--ballads, romances, and incipient dramas. The
chief pieces are (1)"The Ballads of the Cid", composed from the
twelfth to the fifteenth century, of which nearly two hundred
survive; (2)"The Poem of the Cid", a noble fragment; (3)"The
Chronicle of the Cid".
The early history of Spain's popular hero is traced very
accurately in (1)"The General Chronicle of Spain", compiled under
Alphonso X. (died 1284); (2)"The Chronicle of the Cid", perhaps
extracts from the first, and (3) Various Poems and Romances of
the CID from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century.
The following give some of his adventures, and show the spirit of
this interesting early literature--the earliest ballad literature
in Europe.
From the Cid Ballads.
CUYDANDO DIEGO LAYNEZ. (THE TEST.)
Brooding sat Diego Laynez o'er the insult to his name,
Nobler and more ancient far than Inigo Abarca's fame;
For he felt that strength was wanting to avenge the craven blow,
If he himself at such an age to fight should think to go.
Sleepless he passed the weary nights, his food untasted lay,
Ne'er raised his eyes from off the ground, nor ventured forth to
stray,
Refused all converse with his friends, impelled by mortal fear,
Lest fame of outrage unatoned should aggravate his care.
While pondering thus his honor's claims in search of just
redress,
He thought of an expedient his failing house to test;
So summoning to his side his sons, excused all explanation,
Silent began to clutch their hands in proper alternation,
(Not by their tender palms to trace the chiromantic linings,
For at that day no place was found in Spain for such divinings),
But calling on his honor spent for strength and self-denial,
He set aside parental love and steeled his nerves to trial,
Griping their hands with all his might till each cried: "Hold,
Sir, hold!
What meaneth this? pray, let me go; thou'rt killing me, behold!"
Now when he came to Roderick, the youngest of them all,
Despair had well-nigh banished hope of cherished fruit withal
(Though ofttimes lingering nearest when farthest thought to be);
The young man's eyes flashed fury, like tiger fierce stood he
And cried: "Hold, father, hold, a curse upon ye, stay!
An ye were not my father, I would not stop to pray,
But by this good right arm of mine would straight pluck out your
life
With a bare digit of my hand, in lieu of vulgar knife!
The old man wept for joy: "Son of my soul," quoth he,
"Thy rage my rage disarmeth, thine ire is good to see;
Prove now thy mettle, Rod'rick; wipe out my grievous stain,
Restore the honor I have lost, unless thou it regain--"
Then quickly told him of the wrong to which he was a prey,
Gave him his blessing and a sword and bade him go his way
To end the Count's existence and begin a brighter day.
--Tr. by Knapp.
PENSATIVO ESTAVA EL CID. (THE SOLILOQUY.)
Pensive stood the young Castilian, musing calmly on his plight;
'Gainst a man like Count Lozano to avenge a father's slight!
Thought of all the trained dependents that his foe could quickly
call,
A thousand brave Asturians scattered through the highlands all;
Thought, too, how at the Cortes of Leon his voice prevailed,
And how in border forays the Moor before him quailed;
At last reviewed the grievance--No sacrifice too great
To vindicate the first affront to Layn Calvo's state;
Then calls on Heaven for justice, and on the earth for space,
Craves strength of honor injured, and of his father grace,
Nor heeds his youthful bearing, for men of rank like he
Are wont from birth to prove their worth by deeds of chivalry.
Next from the wainscot took he down an ancient sword and long:
Once it had been Mudarra's, but now had rusty grown,
And, holding it sufficient to achieve the end he sought,
Before he girt it on him, he addressed the fitting thought:
"Consider, valiant claymore, that Mudarrals arm is mine,
And the cause wherein ye wrestle is Mudarra's cause and thine;
But if, forsooth, thou scornest to be grasped by youthful hand,
Think not 'twill lead thee backward e'en a jot from the demand;
For as firm as thine own steel thou wilt find me in the fray,
And as good as e'er the best man--Thou hast gained a lord to-day;
And if perchance they worst thee, enraged at such a stain,
I shall plunge thee to the cross in my breast for very shame.
Then on to the field away, for the hour to fight is come,
To requite on Count Lozano all the mischief he has done."
So, full of courage and emprise the Cid rode forth to war,
And his triumph was accomplished in the space of one short hour.
--Tr. by KNAPP.
NON ES DE SESSUDOS HOMES. (ON THE FIELD).
"It is not meet for men of brain, nor yet for champion true,
To offer insult to a man of better blood than you!
The brawny warrior, howe'er fierce and valiant he may be,
Was never wont to test his power on aged infirmity.
The men of Leon need not boast of high emprise, forsooth,
Who craven smite the face of age, and not the breast of youth.
Ye should have known who was my sire, and Layn Calvo's line,
A breed that never brook offence, nor challenge fit decline;
How dared ye thus provoke a man whom only Heaven may,
And not another' while the son lives to avenge the day!
Ye cast about his noble face dishonor's sombre pall,
But I am here to strip it off and expiate it all;
For only blood will cleanse the stain attainted honor brings,
And valid blood is that alone which from the aggressor springs;
Yours it must be, Oh tyrant, since by its overplay
It moved ye to so foul a deed and robbed your sense away;
On my father ye laid hand, in the presence of the king,
And I, his son, am here to-day atonement fall to bring.
Count, ye did a craven business and I call ye COWARD here!
Behold, if I await you, think not I come with fear,
For Diego Laynez wrought me well set in his own mould,
And while I prove my birthright I your baseness shall unfold.
Your valor as a crafty blade will not avail ye more,
For to my needs I bring a sword and charger trained to war."
Thus spake to Count Lozano Spain's champion, the Cid,
(Ere long he won the title by achievements which he did)
That day he slew his enemy and severing quick the head,
Bore high the bleeding trophy as he homeward proudly sped.
--Tr. by Knapp.
LLORANDO DIEGO LAYNEZ. (THE TRIUMPH.)
Weeping sat Diego Laynez still o'er his untasted meal;
Still o'er his shame was brooding, the tears his thoughts reveal;
Beset with a thousand fancies, and crazed with honest care,
Sensitive to a footfall lest some foe were lurking there,
When Rod'rick, bearing by the locks the Count's dissevered poll,
Tracking the floor with recent gore, advanced along the hall.
He touched his father's shoulder and roused him from his dream,
And proudly flaunting his revenge he thus addresses him:
"Behold the evil tares, sir, that ye may taste the wheat;
Open thine eyes, my father, and lift thy head, 'tis meet,
For this thine honor is secure, is raised to life once more,
And all the stain is washed away in spite of pride and power:
For here are hands that are not hands, this tongue no tongue is
now,
I have avenged thee, sir, behold, and here the truth avow."
The old man thinks he dreams; but no, no dream is there;
'Twas only his long grieving that had filled his heart with care.
At length he lifts his eyes, spent by chivalrous deeds,
And turns them on his enemy clad in the ghastly weeds:
"Roderick, son of my soul, mantle the spectre anon,
Lest, like a new Medusa, it change my heart to stone,
And leave me in such plight at last, that, ere I wish ye joy,
My heart should rend within me of bliss without alloy.
Oh, infamous Lozano! kind heaven hath wrought redress,
And the great justice of my claim hath fired Rodrigo's breast!
Sit down, my son, and dine, here at the head with me,
For he who bringest such a gift, is head of my family."
--Tr. by Knapp.
THE YOUNG CID.
Now rides Diego Laynez, to kiss the good King's hand,
Three hundred men of gentry go with him from his land,
Among them, young Rodrigo, the proud Knight of Bivar;
The rest on mules are mounted, he on his horse of war.
They ride in glittering gowns of soye--He harnessed like a lord;
There is no gold about the boy, but the crosslet of his sword;
The rest have gloves of sweet perfume,--He gauntlets strong of
mail;
They broidered cap and flaunting plume,--He crest untaught to
quail.
All talking with each other thus along their way they passed,
But now they've come to Burgos, and met the King at last;
When they came near his nobles, a whisper through them ran,--
"He rides amidst the gentry that slew the Count Lozan."
With very haughty gesture Rodrigo reined his horse,
Right scornfully he shouted, when he heard them so discourse,
"If any of his kinsmen or vassals dare appear,
The man to give them answer, on horse or foot, is here."--
"The devil ask the question," thus muttered all the band;--
With that they all alighted, to kiss the good King's hand,--
All but the proud Rodrigo, he in his saddle stayed,--
Then turned to him his father (you may hear the words he said).
"Now, light, my son, I pray thee, and kiss the good King's hand,
He is our lord, Rodrigo; we hold of him our land."--
But when Rodrigo heard him, he looked in sulky sort,
I wot the words he answered they were both cold and short.
"Had any other said it, his pains had well been paid,
But thou, sir, art my father, thy word must be obeyed."--
With that he sprung down lightly, before the King to kneel,
But as the knee was bending, out leapt his blade of steel.
The King drew back in terror, when he saw the sword was bare;
"Stand back, stand back, Rodrigo, in the devil's name beware;
Your looks bespeak a creature of father Adam's mould,
But in your wild behaviour you're like some lion bold."
When Rodrigo heard him say so, he leapt into his seat,
And thence he made his answer, with visage nothing sweet,--
"I'd think it little honour to kiss a kingly palm,
And if my father's kissed it, thereof ashamed I am."--
When he these words had uttered, he turned him from the gate.
His true three hundred gentles behind him followed straight;
If with good gowns they came that day, with better arms they
went;
And if their mules behind did stay, with horses they're content.
--Tr. by Lockhart.
THE CID'S COURTSHIP.
Now, of Rodrigo de Bivar great was the fame that run,
How he five Kings had vanquished, proud Moormen every one;
And how, when they consented to hold of him their ground,
He freed them from the prison wherein they had been bound.
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