Florent, nephew of the emperor, as Gawain is of Arthur, slew Branchus, a
man of high rank. Branchus's kin refrained from vengeance, out of fear
of the emperor; but a shrewd lady, grandmother to Branchus, undertook to
compass Florent's death in a way that should bring blame upon nobody.
She sent for Florent, and told him that she would engage that he should
not be molested by the family of Branchus if he could answer a question
she would ask. He was to have a proper allowance of time to find the
answer, but he was also to agree that his life should be forfeited
unless his answer were right. Florent made oath to this agreement, and
sought the opinions of the wisest people upon the subject, but their
opinions were in no accord. Considering, therefore, that he must
default, he took leave of the emperor, adjuring him to allow no revenge
to be taken if he lost his life, and went to meet his fate. But on his
way through a forest he saw an ugly old woman, who called to him to
stop. This woman told him that he was going to certain death, and asked
what he would give her to save him. He said, anything she should ask,
and she required of him a promise of marriage. That he would not give.
"Ride on to your death, then," said she. Florent began to reflect that
the woman was very old, and might be hidden away somewhere till she
died, and that there was no other chance of deliverance, and at last
pledged his word that he would marry her if it should turn out that his
life could be saved only through the answer that she should teach him.
She was perfectly willing that he should try all other shifts first, but
if they failed, then let him say that women cared most to be sovereign
in love. Florent kept back this answer as long as he could. None of his
own replies availed, and the lady who presided in judgment at last told
him that he could be allowed but one more. Then he gave the old woman's
answer, and was discharged, with a curse on her that told.[290]
The old woman was waiting for Florent, and he now had full leisure to
inspect all her points; but he was a knight, and would hold his troth.
He set her on his horse before him, rode by night and lay close by day,
till he came to his castle. There the ladies made an attempt to attire
her for the wedding, and she was the fouler for their pains. They were
married that night. He turned away from the bride; she prayed him not to
be so discourteous. He turned toward her, with a great moral effort, and
saw (for the chamber was full of light) a lady of eighteen, of
unequalled beauty. As he would have drawn her to him she forbade, and
said he must make his choice, to have her such by day or by night.
"Choose for us both," was his reply. "Thanks," quoth she, "for since you
have made me sovereign, I shall be both night and day as I am now." She
explained that, having been daughter of the king of Sicily, her
stepmother had forshapen her, the spell to hold till she had won the
love and the sovereignty of what knight passed all others in good name.
The scene of Chaucer's tale, The Wife of Bath, returns to Arthur's
court. One of the bachelors of the household, when returning from
hawking, commits a rape, for which he is condemned to death. But the
queen and other ladies intercede for him, and the king leaves his life
at the disposal of the queen. The queen, like the shrewd lady in Gower,
but with no intent to trapan the young man, says that his life shall
depend upon his being able to tell her what women most desire, and
gives him a year and a day to seek an answer. He makes extensive
inquiries, but there is no region in which two creatures can be found to
be of the same mind, and he turns homeward very downcast.
On his way through a wood he saw a company of ladies dancing, and moved
towards them, in the hope that he might learn something. But ere he came
the dancers had vanished, and all he found was the ugliest woman
conceivable sitting on the green. She asked the knight what he wanted,
and he told her it was to know what women most desire. "Plight me thy
troth to do the next thing I ask of thee, and I will tell thee." He gave
his word, and she whispered the secret in his ear.
The court assembled, the queen herself sitting as justice, and the
knight was commanded to say what thing women love best. He made his
response triumphantly; there was no dissenting voice. But as soon as he
was declared to have ransomed his life, up sprang the old woman he had
met in the wood. She had taught the man his answer, he had plighted his
word to do the first thing she asked of him, and now she asked him to
make her his wife. The promise was not disputed, but the poor youth
begged her to make some other request; to take all he had in the world,
and let him go. She would not yield, and they were married the next day.
When they have gone to bed, the old wife, "smiling ever mo," rallies her
husband for his indifference, and lectures him for objecting to
ugliness, age, and vulgar birth, which things, she says, are a great
security for him, and then gives him his election, to have her ugly and
old as she is, but true, or young and fair, with the possible
contingencies. The knight has the grace to leave the decision to her.
"Then I have the sovereignty," she says, "and I will be both fair and
good; throw up the curtain and see." Fair and young she was, and they
lived to their lives' end in perfect joy.
Chaucer has left out the step-mother and her bewitchment, and saves,
humbles, and rewards the young knight by the agency of a good fairy; for
the ugly old woman is evidently such by her own will and for her own
purposes. She is "smiling ever mo," and has the power, as she says, to
set all right whenever she pleases. Her fate is not dependent on the
knight's compliance, though his is.
The Wife of Bath's Tale is made into a ballad, or what is called a
sonnet, 'Of a Knight and a Fair Virgin,' in The Crown Garland of Golden
Roses, compiled by Richard Johnson, not far from 1600: see the Percy
Society reprint, edited by W. Chappell, vol. vi of the series, p. 68.
Upon Chaucer's story is founded Voltaire's tale, admirable in its way,
of Ce qui plaît aux Dames, 1762; of which the author writes, 1765,
November 4, that it had had great success at Fontainebleau in the form
of a comic opera, entitled La Fée Urgèle.[291] The amusing ballad of The
Knight and Shepherd's Daughter has much in common with the Wife of
Bath's Tale, and might, if we could trace its pedigree, go back to a
common original.[292]
Tales resembling the Marriage of Gawain must have been widely spread
during the Middle Ages. The ballad of 'King Henry' has much in common
with the one now under consideration, and Norse and Gaelic connections,
and is probably much earlier. At present I can add only one parallel out
of English, and that from an Icelandic saga.
Grímr was on the verge of marriage with Lopthæna, but a week before the
appointed day the bride was gone, and nobody knew what had become of
her. Her father had given her a step-mother five years before, and the
step-mother had been far from kind; but what then? Grímr was restless
and unhappy, and got no tidings. A year of scarcity coming, he left
home with two of his people. After an adventure with four trolls, he had
a fight with twelve men, in which, though they were all slain, he lost
his comrades and was very badly wounded. As he lay on the ground,
looking only for death, a woman passed, if so she might be called; for
she was not taller than a child of seven years, so stout that Grímr's
arms would not go round her, misshapen, bald, black, ugly, and
disgusting in every particular. She came up to Grímr, and asked him if
he would accept his life from her. "Hardly," said he, "you are so
loathsome." But life was precious, and he presently consented. She took
him up and ran with him, as if he were a babe, till she came to a large
cave; there she set him down, and it seemed to Grímr that she was uglier
than before. "Now pay me for saving your life," she said, "and kiss me."
"I cannot," said Grímr, "you look so diabolical." "Expect no help, then,
from me," said she, "and I see that it will soon be all over with you."
"Since it must be, loath as I am," said Grímr, and went and kissed her;
she seemed not so bad to kiss as to look at. When night came she made up
a bed, and asked Grímr whether he would lie alone or with her. "Alone,"
he answered. "Then," said she, "I shall take no pains about healing your
wounds." Grímr said he would rather lie with her, if he had no other
chance, and she bound up his wounds, so that he seemed to feel no more
of them. No sooner was Grímr abed than he fell asleep, and when he woke,
he saw lying by him almost the fairest woman he had ever laid eyes on,
and marvellously like his true-love, Lopthæna. At the bedside he saw
lying the troll-casing which she had worn; he jumped up and burned this.
The woman was very faint; he sprinkled her with water, and she came to,
and said, It is well for both of us; I saved thy life first, and thou
hast freed me from bondage. It was indeed Lopthæna, whom the step-mother
had transformed into a horrible shape, odious to men and trolls, which
she should never come out of till a man should consent to three
things,--which no man ever would,--to accept his life at her hands, to
kiss her, and to share her bed. Gríms saga loðinkinna, Rafn, Fornaldar
Sögur, II, 143-52.
Sir Frederic Madden, in his annotations upon this ballad, 'Syr Gawayne,'
p. 359, remarks that Sir Steven, stanza 31, does not occur in the Round
Table romances; that Sir Banier, 32, is probably a mistake for Beduer,
the king's constable; and that Sir Bore and Sir Garrett, in the same
stanza, are Sir Bors de Gauves, brother of Lionel, and Gareth, or
Gaheriet, the younger brother of Gawain.
'The Marriage of Sir Gawaine,' as filled out by Percy from the fragments
in his manuscript, Reliques, 1765, III, 11, is translated by Bodmer, I,
110; by Bothe, p. 75; by Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, p.
135.
1
Kinge Arthur liues in merry Carleile,
And seemely is to see,
And there he hath with him Queene Genev_er_,
_Tha_t bride soe bright of blee.
2
And there he hath w_i_th [him] Queene Genever,
_Tha_t bride soe bright in bower,
And all his barons about him stoode,
_Tha_t were both stiffe and stowre.
3
The k_ing_ kept a royall Christmasse,
Of mirth and great honor,
And when ...
. . . . . . .
* * * * * * *
4
'And bring me word what thing it is
T_ha_t a woman [will] most desire;
This shalbe thy ransome, Arthur,' he sayes,
'For Ile haue noe other hier.'
5
K_ing_ Arthur then held vp his hand,
According thene as was the law;
He tooke his leaue of the baron there,
And homward can he draw.
6
And when he came to merry Carlile,
To his chamber he is gone,
And ther came to him his cozen S_i_r Gawaine,
As he did make his mone.
7
And there came to him his cozen S_i_r Gawaine,
_Tha_t was a curteous knight;
'Why sigh you soe sore, vnckle Arthur,' he said,
'Or who hath done thee vnright? '
8
'O peace, O peace, thou gentle Gawaine,
_Tha_t faire may thee beffall!
For if thou knew my sighing soe deepe,
Thou wold not meruaile att all.
9
'Ffor when I came to Tearne Wadling,
A bold barron there I fand,
W_i_th a great club vpon his backe,
Standing stiffe and strong.
10
'And he asked me wether I wold fight
Or from him I shold begone,
O[r] else I must him a ransome pay,
And soe dep_ar_t him from.
11
'To fight w_i_th him I saw noe cause;
Methought it was not meet;
For he was stiffe and strong w_i_th-all,
His strokes were nothing sweete.
12
'Therefor this is my ransome, Gawaine,
I ought to him to pay;
I must come againe, as I am sworne,
Vpon the New Yeers day;
13
'And I must bring him word what thing it is
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
* * * * * * *
14
Then king Arthur drest him for to ryde,
In one soe rich array,
Toward the fore-said Tearne Wadling,
_Tha_t he might keepe his day.
15
And as he rode over a more,
Hee see a lady where shee sate
Betwixt an oke and a greene hollen;
She was cladd in red scarlett.
16
Then there as shold haue stood her mouth,
Then there was sett her eye;
The other was in her forhead fast,
The way that she might see.
17
Her nose was crooked and turnd outward,
Her mouth stood foule a-wry;
A worse formed lady than shee was,
Neuer man saw w_i_th his eye.
18
To halch vpon him, K_ing_ Arthur,
This lady was full faine,
But K_ing_ Arthur had forgott his lesson,
What he shold say againe.
19
'What knight art thou,' the lady sayd,
'That will not speak to me?
Of me be thou nothing dismayd,
Tho I be vgly to see.
20
'For I haue halched you curteouslye,
And you will not me againe;
Yett I may happen S_i_r Knight,' shee said,
'To ease thee of thy paine.'
21
'Giue thou ease me, lady,' he said,
'Or helpe me any thing,
Thou shalt have gentle Gawaine, my cozen,
And marry him w_i_th a ring.'
22
'Why, if I help thee not, thou noble K_ing_ Arthur,
Of thy owne hearts desiringe,
Of gentle Gawaine ...
. . . . . . .
* * * * * * *
23
And when he came to the Tearne Wadling,
The baron there cold he finde,
W_i_th a great weapon on his backe,
Standing stiffe and stronge.
24
And then he tooke K_ing_ Arthurs letters in his hands,
And away he cold them fling,
And then he puld out a good browne sword,
And cryd himselfe a k_ing_.
25
And he sayd, I have thee and thy land, Arthur,
To doe as it pleaseth me,
For this is not thy ransome sure,
Therfore yeeld thee to me.
26
And then bespoke him noble Arthur,
And bad him hold his hand:
'And giue me leaue to speake my mind
In defence of all my land.'
27
He said, As I came over a more,
I see a lady where shee sate
Betweene an oke and a green hollen;
Shee was clad in red scarlett.
28
And she says a woman will haue her will,
And this is all her cheef desire:
Doe me right, as thou art a baron of sckill,
This is thy ransome and all thy hyer.
29
He sayes, An early vengeance light on her!
She walkes on yonder more;
It was my sister that told thee this,
And she is a misshappen hore.
30
But heer Ile make mine avow to God
To doe her an euill turne,
For an euer I may thate fowle theefe get,
In a fyer I will her burne.
* * * * * * *
31
Sir Lancelott and S_i_r Steven bold,
They rode w_i_th them that day,
And the formost of the company
There rode the steward Kay.
32
Soe did S_i_r Banier and S_i_r Bore,
S_i_r Garrett with them soe gay,
Soe did S_i_r Tristeram _tha_t gentle k_nigh_t,
To the forrest fresh and gay.
33
And when he came to the greene forrest,
Vnderneath a greene holly tree,
Their sate that lady in red scarlet
_Tha_t vnseemly was to see.
34
S_i_r Kay beheld this ladys face,
And looked vppon her swire;
'Whosoeuer kisses this lady,' he sayes,
'Of his kisse he stands in feare.'
35
S_i_r Kay beheld the lady againe,
And looked vpon her snout;
'Whosoeuer kisses this lady,' he saies,
'Of his kisse he stands in doubt.'
36
'Peace, coz_en_ Kay,' then said S_i_r Gawaine,
'Amend thee of thy life;
For there is a knight amongst vs all
_Tha_t must marry her to his wife.'
37
'What! wedd her to wiffe!' then said S_i_r Kay,
'In the diuells name anon!
Gett me a wiffe where-ere I may,
For I had rather be slaine!'
38
Then some tooke vp their hawkes in hast,
And some tooke vp their hounds,
And some sware they wold not marry her
For citty nor for towne.
39
And then be-spake him noble K_ing_ Arthur,
And sware there by this day,
'For a litle foule sight and misliking
. . . . . . .
* * * * * * *
40
Then shee said, Choose thee, gentle Gawaine,
Truth as I doe say,
Wether thou wilt haue me in this liknesse
In the night or else in the day.
41
And then bespake him gentle Gawaine,
Was one soe mild of moode,
Sayes, Well I know what I wold say,
God grant it may be good!
42
To haue thee fowle in the night
When I w_i_th thee shold play--
Yet I had rather, if I might,
Haue thee fowle in the day.
43
'What! when lords goe w_i_th ther feires,' shee said,
'Both to the ale and wine,
Alas! then I must hyde my selfe,
I must not goe withinne.'
44
And then bespake him gentle Gawaine,
Said, Lady, that's but skill;
And because thou art my owne lady,
Thou shalt haue all thy will.
45
Then she said, Blesed be thou, gentle Gawain,
This day _tha_t I thee see,
For as thou seest me att this time,
From hencforth I wilbe.
46
My father was an old knight,
And yett it chanced soe
_Tha_t he marryed a younge lady
That brought me to this woe.
47
Shee witched me, being a faire young lady,
To the greene forrest to dwell,
And there I must walke in womans liknesse,
Most like a feend of hell.
48
She witched my brother to a carlish b ...
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
* * * * * * *
49
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
'That looked soe foule, and that was wont
On the wild more to goe.'
50
'Come kisse her, brother Kay,' then said S_i_r Gawaine,
'And amend thé of thy liffe;
I sweare this is the same lady
_Tha_t I marryed to my wiffe.'
51
S_i_r Kay kissed that lady bright,
Standing vpon his ffeete;
He swore, as he was trew knight,
The spice was neuer soe sweete.
52
'Well, coz_en_ Gawaine,' sayes S_i_r Kay,
'Thy chance is fallen arright,
For thou hast gotten one of the fairest maids
I euer saw with my sight.'
53
'It is my fortune,' said S_i_r Gawaine;
'For my vnckle Arthurs sake
I am glad as grasse wold be of raine,
Great ioy that I may take.'
54
S_i_r Gawaine tooke the lady by the one arme,
S_i_r Kay tooke her by the tother,
They led her straight to K_ing_ Arthur,
As they were brother and brother.
55
K_ing_ Arthur welcomed them there all,
And soe did Lady Geneuer his queene,
W_i_th all the knights of the Round Table,
Most seemly to be scene.
56
K_ing_ Arthur beheld that lady faire
That was soe faire and bright,
He thanked Christ in Trinity
For S_i_r Gawaine that gentle knight.
57
Soe did the knights, both more and lesse,
Reioyced all _tha_t day
For the good chance that hapened was
To S_i_r Gawaine and his lady gay.
* * * * *
1^3. Qqueene.
3^3. _Half a page gone from the MS., about 9 stanzas; and
so after 13^1, 22^3, 30^4, 39^3, 48^1._
19^1. _Perhaps ~sayes~._
23^2. he fimde.
25^1. _Perhaps ~sayes~._
26^2. _Perhaps ~hands~._
27^1. _~He~ altered from ~the~ in MS._
31. "The 2d Part" _is written here in the left margin of
the MS._ Furnivall.
34^2. her smire.
37^4. shaine.
41^2. w_i_th one.
43^1. seires.
44^2. a skill.
45^3. thou see
48^1. Carlist B ... _~&~ is printed ~and~._
[284] Still so called: near Aiketgate, Hesket. Lysons, Cumberland, p.
112.
[285] 'The Weddynge of S^r Gawen and Dame Ragnell,' Rawlinson MS., C 86,
Bodleian Library, the portion containing the poem being paper, and
indicating the close of Henry VII's reign. The poem is in six-line
stanzas, and, with a leaf that is wanting, would amount to about 925
lines. Madden's Syr Gawayne, lxiv, lxvii, 26, 298^a-298^y.
[286] Sir Gromer occurs in "The Turke and Gowin," Percy MS., Hales and
Furnivall, I, 102; Sir Grummore Grummorsum, "a good knight of Scotland,"
in Morte d'Arthur; ed. Wright, I, 286 and elsewhere (Madden).
[287] See 'King Henry,' the next ballad.
[288] The Gaelic tale of 'The Hoodie' offers a similar choice. The
hoodie, a species of crow, having married the youngest of a farmer's
three daughters, says to her, "Whether wouldst thou rather that I should
be a hoodie by day and a man at night, or be a hoodie at night and a man
by day?" The woman maintains her proper sovereignty, and does not leave
the decision to him: "'I would rather that thou wert a man by day and a
hoodie at night,' says she. After this he was a splendid fellow by day,
and a hoodie at night." Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands,
I, 63.
The having one shape by day and another by night is a common feature in
popular tales: as, to be a bear by day and a man by night, Hrólfr
Kraki's Saga, c. 26, Asbjørnsen og Moe, Norske Folkeeventyr, No 41; a
lion by day and a man by night, Grimms, K. u. H. m., No 88; a crab by
day and a man by night, B. Schmidt, Griechische Märchen, u. s. w., No
10; a snake by day and a man by night, Karadshitch, Volksmärchen der
Serben, Nos 9, 10; a pumpkin by day and a man by night, A. & A. Schott,
Walachische Mærchen, No 23; a ring by day, a man by night, Müllenhoff,
No 27, p. 466, Karadshitch, No 6, Afanasief, VI, 189. Three princes in
'Kung Lindorm,' Nicolovius, Folklifwet, p. 48 ff, are cranes by day and
men by night, the king himself being man by day and worm by night. The
double shape is sometimes implied though not mentioned.
[289] The brother, Grower Somer Joure, was a victim of the same
necromancy; so the Carl of Carlile, Percy MS., Hales & Furnivall, III,
291.
[290]
And whan that this matrone herde
The maner how this knight answerde,
She saide, Ha, treson, wo the be!
That hast thus told the privete
Which alle women most desire:
I wolde that thou were a-fire!
So Sir Gawen and Dame Ragnell, vv 474 f, and our ballad, stanzas 29, 30.
[291] This was a melodrama by Favart, in four acts: reduced in 1821 to
one act, at the Gymnase.
[292] Chaucer's tale is commonly said to be derived from Gower's, but
without sufficient reason. Vv 6507-14, ed. Tyrwhitt, are close to Dame
Ragnell, 409-420. Gower may have got his from some Example-book. I have
not seen it remarked, and therefore will note, that Example-books may
have been known in England as early as 1000, for Aelfric seems to speak
slightingly of them in his treatise on the Old Testament. The Proverbs,
he says, is a "bigspellbóc, _ná swilce gé secgað_, ac wísdómes bigspell
and warnung wið dysig," etc.
32
KING HENRY
'King Henry.' #a.# The Jamieson-Brown MS., fol. 31. #b.#
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1802, II, 132.
Scott describes his copy of 'King Henry' as "edited from the MS. of Mrs
Brown, corrected by a recited fragment." This MS. of Mrs Brown was
William Tytler's, in which, as we learn from Anderson's communication to
Percy (see p. 62, above), this ballad was No 11. Anderson notes that it
extended to twenty-two stanzas, the number in Scott's copy. No account
is given of the recited fragment. As published by Jamieson, II, 194, the
ballad is increased by interpolation to thirty-four stanzas. "The
interpolations will be found inclosed in brackets," but a painful
contrast of style of itself distinguishes them. They were entered by
Jamieson in his manuscript as well.
The fourteenth stanza, as now printed, the eighteenth in Jamieson's
copy, is not there bracketed as an interpolation, and yet it is not in
the manuscript. This stanza, however, with some verbal variation, is
found in Scott's version, and as it may have been obtained by Jamieson
in one of his visits to Mrs Brown, it has been allowed to stand.
Lewis rewrote the William Tytler version for his Tales of Wonder,
'Courteous King Jamie,' II, 453, No 57, and it was in this shape that
the ballad first came out, 1801.
The story is a variety of that which is found in 'The Marriage of Sir
Gawain,' and has its parallel, as Scott observed, in an episode in
Hrólfr Kraki's saga; #A#, Torfæus, Historia Hrolfi Krakii, c. vii,
Havniæ, 1705; #B#, Fornaldar Sögur, Rafn, I, 30 f, c. 15.
King Helgi, father of Hrólfr Kraki, in consequence of a lamentable
misadventure, was living in a solitary way in a retired lodge. One
stormy Yule-night there was a loud wail at the door, after he had gone
to bed. Helgi bethought himself that it was unkingly of him to leave
anything to suffer outside, and got up and unlocked the door. There he
saw a poor tattered creature of a woman, hideously misshapen, filthy,
starved, and frozen (#A#), who begged that she might come in. The king
took her in, and bade her get under straw and bearskin to warm herself.
She entreated him to let her come into his bed, and said that her life
depended on his conceding this boon. "It is not what I wish," replied
Helgi, "but if it is as thou sayest, lie here at the stock, in thy
clothes, and it will do me no harm." She got into the bed, and the king
turned to the wall. A light was burning, and after a while the king took
a look over his shoulder; never had he seen a fairer woman than was
lying there, and not in rags, but in a silk kirtle. The king turned
towards her now, and she informed him that his kindness had freed her
from a weird imposed by her stepmother, which she was to be subject to
till some king had admitted her to his bed, #A#. She had asked this
grace of many, but no one before had been moved to grant it.
Every point of the Norse saga, except the stepmother's weird, is found
in the Gaelic tale 'Nighean Righ fo Thuinn,' 'The Daughter of King
Under-waves,' Campbell's Popular Tales of the West Highlands, No lxxxvi,
III, 403 f.
The Finn were together one wild night, when there was rain and snow. An
uncouth woman knocked at Fionn's door about midnight, and cried to him
to let her in under cover. "Thou strange, ugly creature, with thy hair
down to thy heels, how canst thou ask _me_ to let thee in!" he answered.
She went away, with a scream, and the whole scene was repeated with
Oisean. Then she came to Diarmaid. "Thou art hideous," he said, "and thy
hair is down to thy heels, but come in." When she had come in, she told
Diarmaid that she had been travelling over ocean and sea for seven
years, without being housed, till he had admitted her. She asked that
she might come near the fire. "Come," said Diarmaid; but when she
approached everybody retreated, because she was so hideous. She had not
been long at the fire, when she wished to be under Diarmaid's blanket.
"Thou art growing too bold," said he, "but come." She came under the
blanket, and he turned a fold of it between them. "She was not long
thus, when he gave a start, and he gazed at her, and he saw the finest
drop of blood that ever was, from the beginning of the universe till the
end of the world, at his side."