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by Charles Swan


  “Then said the lady’s servant, tell me by what means I may best help thee. Then said the master of the ship, go home to thy lady again, and tell her, that I will not deliver to thee the cloth except she come herself ; and do thou but bring her to my ship, and if the wind be good and fit, then I purpose to lead her away. Thy counsel is good, quoth the lady’s servant, therefore give me some reward, and I shall fulfil thy desire.

  “Now when he had received his reward, he went again to the lady, and told her, that by no means the master of the ship would deliver him the cloth, except she came to him herself.

  “The lady believed her servant, and went to the ship. Now when she was within the ship-board, her servant abode without.

  “When the master saw that she was within the ship, and the wind was good, he drew up the sail and sailed forth.

  “When the lady perceived this, thus she said to the master: O master (quoth she), what treason is this thou hast done to me? The master answered and said: certainly it is so, that I must needs * * * * espouse thee. O good sir, quoth she, I have made a vow, that I shall never do such a thing * * * * Soothly (quoth he), if you will not grant me with your good will, I will cast you out into the midst of the sea, and there shall ye die an evil death: If it be so (quoth she), that I must needs consent, or else die, first I pray thee to prepare a private place in the end of the ship, whereas I may fulfil thine intent ere I die, and also I pray thee, that I may say my prayers unto the father of heaven, that he may have mercy on me.

  “The master believed her, wherefore he did ordain her a cabbin in the end of the ship, wherein she kneeled down on both her knees and made her prayers, saying on this wise: O thou my Lord God, thou hast kept me from my youth in cleanness, keep me now * * * * * so that I may ever serve thee with a clean heart and mind, and let not this wicked man prevail with me, nor any other the like wickedness come nigh me. When she had ended her prayers, there arose suddenly a great tempest in the sea, so that the ship all brast, and all that were therein perished, save the lady; and she caught a cable and saved herself, and the master caught a board of the ship and saved himself likewise; nevertheless, she knew not of him, nor he of her, for they were driven to divers coasts. The lady landed in her own empire near to a rich city, wherein she was honourably received, and she lived so holy a life, that God gave her grace and power to heal sick folk of all manner of diseases; wherefore there came much people to her, both crooked, blind, and lame, and every man through the grace of God and her good endeavour was healed, wherefore her name was known thro’ diuers regions. Nevertheless, she was not known as the empress. At the same time the emperor’s brother, that had hanged her before by the hair, was smitten with a foul leprosie. The knight that slew the earl’s daughter, and put the bloody knife in her hand, was blind, deaf, and had the palsie. The thief that betrayed her to the master of the ship, was lame and full of the cramp, and the master of the ship distraught of his wits.

  “When the emperor heard that so holy a woman was in the city, he called his brother, and said to him thus: Go we, dear brother, unto this holy woman that is dwelling in this city, that she may heal thee of thy leprosie. Would to God, O noble brother (quoth he), that I were healed. Anon the emperor with his brother went toward the city. Then when the citizens heard of his coming, they received him honourably with procession and all provision befitting his estate. And then the emperor enquired of the citizens, if any such holy woman were among them, that could heal sick folk of their diseases. The citizens answered and said, that such an one there was. Now at the same time was come to the same city, the knight that slew the earl’s daughter, and the thief which she saved from the gallows, and the master of the ship, to be healed of their diseases.

  “Then was the empress called forth before the emperor, but she muffled her face as well as she could, that the emperor her husband should not know her, and when she had so done, she saluted him with great reverence, as appertained to his state; and again he in like manner, saying thus: O good lady, if thou list of thy kindness to heal my brother of his leprosie, ask of me what you will, and I shall grant it thee for thy reward.

  “When the empress heard this, she looked about her, and saw there the emperor’s brother, a foul leper; she saw there also the knight that slew the earl’s daughter, blind and deaf, the thief that she saved from the gallows lame, and also the master of the ship distraught out of his wits, and all were come to her to be healed of their maladies, and knew her not; but though they knew her not, she knew them well. Then said she unto the emperor thus: My reverend lord, though you would give me all your empire, I cannot heal your brother, nor none of these other, except they acknowledge openly what great evil they have done.

  “When the emperor heard this, he turned him towards his brother, and said unto him : Brother, acknowledge openly thy sin before all these men, that thou mayest be healed of thy sickness. Then anon he began to tell how he had led his life, but he told not how he had hanged the empress in the forrest by the hair of the head most despitefully.

  “When he had acknowledged all that him list, the empress replied, and said: Soothly, my lord, I would gladly lay unto him my medicine, but I wot right well it is in vain, for he hath not made a full confession.

  “The emperor hearing this, he turned towards his brother, and said in this wise: What evil, sorrow, or other unhappy wretchedness is in thee ? Seest thou not how that thou art a foul leper ? therefore acknowledge thy sin truly, that thou mayest be whole, or else avoid my company for evermore.

  “Ah my lord (quoth he), I may not tell my life openly, except I be sure of thy grace. What hast thou trespassed against me, said the emperor ? Then answered his brother, and said: Mine offence against thee is grievous, and therefore I heartily ask thee forgiveness. The emperor thought not on the empress, forasmuch as he supposed she had been dead many years before; therefore he commanded his brother to tell forth wherein he had offended him, and he should be forgiven.

  “When the emperor had thus forgiven his brother, he began to tell openly how he had desired the empress to commit adultery with him, and because she denied, he had hanged her by the hair, in the forrest, on such a day.

  “When the emperor heard this, he was almost beside himself, and in his rage he said thus: O thou wretched creature, the vengeance of God is fallen upon thee, and were it not that I have pardoned thee, thou shouldest die the most shameful death that could be thought.

  “Then said the knight that slew the earl’s daughter, I wot not quoth he, what lady you mean, but I wot that my lord found on a time such a lady hanging in the forrest, and brought her home to his castle, and he took her, and gave her his daughter to keep, and I provoked her as much as I could to sin with me, but she would in no wise consent to me; wherefore I slew the earl’s daughter that lay with her, and when I had so done, I put the bloody knife in the lady’s hand, that the earl should think that she had slain his daughter with her own hand, and then she was exiled thence, but where she became I wot not.

  “Then said the thief, I wot not of what lady you mean; but well I wot, that seven officers were leading me to the gallows, and such a lady came riding by, and bought me of them, and then went I with her, and betrayed her unto the master of the ship.

  “Such a lady (quoth the master of the ship), received I, and when we were in the midst of the sea, I would have lain with her, but she kneeled down to her prayers, and anon there arose such a tempest, that the ship all to brast, and all therein was drowned, save she and I, but afterward what befell of her I wot not.

  “Then cried the empress with a loud voice, and said: Soothly dear friends, ye do now truly confess and declare the truth, wherefore I will now apply my medicine, and anon they received their healths.

  “When the lady the empress had thus done, she uncovered her face to the emperor, and he forthwith knew her, and ran to her, and embraced her in his arms, and kissed her oftentimes, and for joy he wept bitterly: saying, Blessed be God, now I have found that I desired. And when he had
thus said, he led her home to the palace with great joy; and after, when it pleased Almighty God, they ended both their lives in peace and rest.”

  “Occleve has related this story in verse, from the present work (MS. Beg. 17 D. vi.), and it is also to be found in the Patranas of Timonida (Patr. 21). The outline has been borrowed from one of the Contes devots, or miracles of the Virgin Mary.1 The incident of the bloody knife occurs likewise in Chaucer’s Man of Law’s Tale, and in a story related by Gower, Confessio Amantis, fol. 32.”—DOUCE.

  A few additional remarks upon the stories to follow, for which indulgence is bespoke, shall close, what I fear the reader may be disposed to consider, as toilsome a march as the doughty knights of old experienced in gaining access to some enchanted castle. But let me whisper in his ear that the distressed damsels whom his intrepidity shall relieve are most of them passing fair and gentle. He cannot display resolution in a better cause; and if (de gustibus non est disputandum !) their beauty sometimes disappoint his expectations, let him remember that adoration has been offered them by past ages of heroic spirits: that bards, whose names are familiar in our mouths as household words, have condescended to adopt them; and, therefore, that they possess an undoubted claim to public consideration, if not on the ground of their own intrinsic excellence.

  Much of the merit of these fables consists in the curious and interesting light which they throw upon a period necessarily involved in great obscurity. The fictions are strongly and vividly delineated; and the reader feels himself hurried back into the romantic scenes of chivalrous emprize, and busily mingling in the commotions of camp and court. The fantastic regulations of many of the tales accord with historical notices of chivalry; in which the most ridiculous commands were imposed and executed. The sports of the field, united with the pursuit of wild adventure: love, and war, and devotion; absurd penances for unimaginable crimes, and carelessness for the commission of enormous ones, form no small part of the present compilation. Every natural phenomenon is a miracle; and construed as best may serve the interests, or accord with the prejudices of the party. The first object is to espouse some ineffably fair daughter: whose affections are disposed of, not according to the common excellent system of policy, or power, or wealth, but by the simple and singularly efficacious method of resolving certain mysteries; in expounding riddles, or in compliance with some inexplicable vow. If this should be considered no very favourable account of what the reader may look for, it should be remembered that the tales in question are faithful representations of other days, and that the character with which the period is impressed tolerates and justifies many absurdities. Yet are we not to suppose everything absurd which now appears so. The progress of civilization has introduced a vast number of unnecessary refinements, at which our ancestors would laugh; perhaps more boisterously, but with as much regard to justice as their politer descendants exhibit at the inartificial character of earlier times.

  Ignorance is always credulous; and therefore, in considering the probability or improbability of the fable, we must consider how it was calculated to impress those for whom it was invented, or to whom it was told. If the narrator suited his contrivance to the understanding, and communicated pleasure to the imagination, of his readers or auditors, he possessed the requisite ingenuity; and his merit was proportionably great. We ought not to make our own the standard of others’ judgments ; much less ought we to impose our own age and nation as the criterion of past times and foreign countries. Comparatively secluded as the monks at all times were, their views of life must necessarily have been confined also: and their simplicity would easily be duped by those who were interested in deceiving them. From the pulpit, whence it would appear that their stories were delivered, the opportunity of adding new fictions, for the purpose of illustrating new positions, would be irresistible; and here we trace the source of many of the strained allusions which so repeatedly occur. The good old custom likewise, of enlivening a winter’s evening by the relation of fabliaux, accompanied, no doubt, by moral and mystical applications, gives us a delightful picture of the social intercourse and familiarity of remote times; but discovers to us another incentive to extravagant fancy and high-flown conceit. The attention of their hearers could only be riveted by the marvellous; and that which was barely probable, from the constant recurrence of extravagant fiction—from the itching ears, which opened only to the wildest exaggeration, naturally became no longer acceptable, because taste was vitiated, and the imagination over-wrought. All these circumstances require consideration in forming a judgment of the ensuing tales- They certainly vary in point of merit ; but many of them are eminently beautiful. Some display a rich vein of pathos; and there are passages of deep poetic interest. In the description of manners, however, they are unrivalled; and my aim has been, to render passages of this kind with all fidelity; while, in the diction, I have adhered as closely as possible to that simplicity of style which forms the principal charm of ancient narrative.

  In perusing the conversational parts, the reader who has pored over illuminated manuscripts will recall subjects to which they apply. He will recollect fair ladies glittering in every colour of the rainbow, chattering from a window to grotesque-looking gentlemen with pink feathers drooping from immense hats; and misshapen shoes, vying in the longitude of their peaks with a barber’s pole : he will be reminded of grim-visaged emperors ornamented with royal beards and projecting jaws—in short, he will distinguish the whole of what these volumes delineate. There is in the British Museum a beautiful manuscript of the Romant de la Rose, which will, in most respects, exemplify my observations.

  It would appear that hospitality was a never-failing virtue ; and the eagerness with which pilgrims and wayfaring persons were invited to share the repast and partake the couch of the friendly citizen, or to occupy the castle of the knight, is a pleasing trait in the character of the times. But it will be thought that wisdom was a scarce commodity, when three prudential maxims were valued at a thousand florins. [See Tale CIIL] Considering the result, they were cheaply purchased; although, in these days, when advice is much oftener given than paid for—even with thanks, the price may be deemed somewhat of the highest.

  The many stories on the subject of adultery seem to indicate a bad moral state of society at the time they were written; and it is to be feared that the lawless feeling which chivalry in its decline exhibited, affords an unhappy confirmation. Whether the fact of the monks levelling much of their satire against the fair sex is also corroborative, or whether it proceed from that impotence of mind which, being itself fretted by circumstance, would gladly efface or deteriorate whatever is the object of its unavailing wishes, I do not take upon me to decide.

  It is necessary that I should advertise the reader of what he will not fail to perceive, that the tales are not always perfect in every part; nor are the positions laid down at the commencement always remembered. This may result from ignorant transcribers having omitted some passages, and interpolated others: and such a supposition accounts, as I observed before, for the numerous variations which appear in various copies, as well as for the introduction of certain expressions that have been considered arguments in behalf of their origin. That they have been collected from all countries, and at many times, I have no doubt. Some appear of Italian construction, a few German, but the greater part oriental. The absolute power of the emperors, who sport with life and death in the most capricious and extraordinary manner—the constant introduction of the leprosy and crucifixion, amply confirm their connection with the East.

  “It may not be thought impertinent to close this discourse with a remark on the MORALIZATIONS subjoined to the stories of the GESTA ROMANORUM. This was an age of vision and mystery: and every work was believed to contain a double, or secondary, meaning. Nothing escaped this eccentric spirit of refinement and abstraction ; and, together with the Bible, as we have seen, not only the general history of ancient times was explained allegorically, but even the poetical fictions of the classics were made to
signify the great truths of religion, with a degree of boldness, and a want of discrimination, which, in another age, would have acquired the character of the most profane levity, if not of absolute impiety, and can only be defended from the simplicity of the state of knowledge which then prevailed.

  “Thus, God creating man of clay, animated with the vital principle of respiration, was the story of Prometheus, who formed a man of similar materials, to which he communicated life by fire stolen from heaven. Christ twice born, of His Father, God, and of His mother, Mary, was prefigured by Bacchus, who was first born of Semele, and afterwards of Jupiter. And as Minerva sprung from the brain of Jupiter, so Christ proceeded from God without a mother. Christ born of the Virgin Mary was expressed in the fable of Danäe shut within a tower, through the covering of which Jupiter descended in a shower of gold, and begat Perseus. Actæon, killed by his own hounds, was a type of the persecution and death of our Saviour. The poet Lycophron relates that Hercules, in returning from the adventure of the golden fleece, was shipwrecked ; and that, being devoured by a monstrous fish, he was disgorged alive on the shore after three days. Here was an obvious symbol of Christ’s resurrection. John Waleys, an English Franciscan of the thirteenth century, in his moral exposition of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, affords many other instances equally ridiculous; and who forgot that he was describing a more heterogeneous chaos, than that which makes so conspicuous a figure in his author’s exordium, and which combines, amid the monstrous and indigested aggregate of its unnatural associations,

  ——Sine pondere habentia pondus.1

  “At length, compositions professedly allegorical, with which that age abounded, were resolved into allegories for which they were never intended. In the famous ROMAUNT OF THE ROSE, written about the year 1310, the poet couches the difficulties of an ardent lover in attaining the object of his passion, under the allegory of a rose, which is gathered in a delicious but almost inaccessible garden. The theologists proved this rose to be the white rose of Jericho, the new Jerusalem, a state of grace, divine wisdom, the holy Virgin, or eternal beatitude, at none of which obstinate heretics can ever arrive. The chemists pretended that it was the philosopher’s stone; the civilians, that it was the most consummate point of equitable decision; and the physicians, that it was the infallible panacea. In a word, other professions, in the most elaborate commentaries, explained away the lover’s rose into the mysteries of their own respective science. In conformity to this practice, Tasso allegorized his own poem; and a flimsy structure of morality was raised on the chimerical conceptions of Ariosto’s ORLANDO. In the year 1557, a translation of a part of Amadis de Gaule appeared in France; with a learned preface, developing the valuable stores of profound instruction, concealed under the naked letters of the old romances, which were discernible only to the intelligent, and totally unperceived by common readers; who, instead of plucking the fruit, were obliged to rest contented with la simple FLEUR de la Lecture litterale. Even Spenser, at a later period, could not indulge his native impulse to descriptions of chivalry, without framing such a story, as conveyed, under the dark conceit of ideal champions, a set of historic transactions, and an exemplification of the nature of the twelve moral virtues. He presents his fantastic queen with a rich romantic mirror, which shewed the wondrous achievements of her magnificent ancestry:—

 

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