face featly fashioned, the nose high and fairly set, the lips more red
than cherry or rose in time of summer, her teeth white and small; and
her breasts so firm that they bore up the folds of her bodice as they
had been two walnuts; so slim was she in the waist that your two hands
might have clipt her; and the daisy flowers that brake beneath her as
she went tiptoe, and that bent above her instep, seemed black against
her feet and ankles, so white was the maiden. She came to the
postern-gate, and unbarred it, and went out through the streets of
Beaucaire, keeping always on the shadowy side, for the moon was
shining right clear, and so wandered she till she came to the tower
where her lover lay. The tower was flanked with pillars, and she
cowered under one of them, wrapt in her mantle. Then thrust she her
head through a crevice of the tower, that was old and worn, and heard
Aucassin, who was weeping within, and making dole and lament for the
sweet friend he loved so well. And when she had listened to him some
time she began to speak....
When Aucassin heard Nicolette say that she would pass into a far
country, he was all in wrath.
"Fair, sweet friend," quoth he, "thou shalt not go, for then wouldst
thou be my death. And the first man that saw thee and had the might
withal, would take thee straightway into his bed to be his leman. And
once thou camest into a man's bed, and that bed not mine, wit ye well
that I would not tarry till I had found a knife to pierce my heart and
slay myself. Nay, verily, wait so long I would not; but would hurl
myself so far as I might see a wall, or a black stone, and I would
dash my head against it so mightily that the eyes would start and my
brain burst. Rather would I die even such a death than know that thou
hadst lain in a man's bed, and that bed not mine."
"Aucassin," she said, "I trow thou lovest me not as much as thou
sayest, but I love thee more than thou lovest me."
"Ah, fair, sweet friend," said Aucassin, "it may not be that thou
shouldest love me even as I love thee. Woman may not love man as man
loves woman; for a woman's love lies in her eye, and the bud of her
breast, and her foot's tiptoe, but the love of a man is in his heart
planted, whence it can never issue forth and pass away."
Now when Aucassin and Nicolette were holding this parley together, the
town's watchmen were coming down a street, with swords drawn beneath
their cloaks, for Count Garin had charged them that if they could take
her, they should slay her. But the sentinel that was on the tower saw
them coming, and heard them speaking of Nicolette as they went, and
threatening to slay her.
"God," quoth he, "this were great pity to slay so fair a maid! Right
great charity it were if I could say aught to her, and they perceive
it not, and she should be on her guard against them, for if they slay
her, then were Aucassin, my damoiseau, dead, and that were great
pity."...
Aucassin fared through the forest from path to path after Nicolette,
and his horse bare him furiously. Think ye not that the thorns him
spared, nor the briers, nay, not so, but tare his raiment, that scarce
a knot might be tied with the soundest part thereof, and the blood
spurted from his arms, and flanks, and legs, in forty places, or
thirty, so that behind the Childe men might follow on the track of his
blood in the grass. But so much he went in thoughts of Nicolette, his
lady sweet, that he felt no pain nor torment, and all the day hurled
through the forest in this fashion nor heard no word of her. And when
he saw vespers draw nigh, he began to weep for that he found her not.
All down an old road, and grass-grown, he fared, when anon, looking
along the way before him, he saw such an one as I shall tell you. Tall
was he, and great of growth, ugly and hideous: his head huge, and
blacker than charcoal, and more than the breadth of a hand between his
two eyes; and he had great cheeks, and a big nose and flat, big
nostrils and wide, and thick lips redder than steak, and great teeth
yellow and ugly, and he was shod with hosen and shoon of ox-hide,
bound with cords of bark up over the knee, and all about him a great
cloak two-fold; and he leaned upon a grievous cudgel, and Aucassin
came unto him, and was afraid when he beheld him.
So they parted from each other, and Aucassin rode on; the night was
fair and still, and so long he went that he came to the lodge of
boughs that Nicolette had builded and woven within and without, over
and under, with flowers, and it was the fairest lodge that might be
seen. When Aucassin was ware of it, he stopt suddenly, and the light
of the moon fell therein.
"Forsooth!" quoth Aucassin, "here was Nicolette, my sweet lady, and
this lodge builded she with her fair hands. For the sweetness of it,
and for love of her, will I now alight, and rest here this night
long."
He drew forth his foot from the stirrup to alight, and the steed was
great and tall. He dreamed so much on Nicolette, his right sweet
friend, that he fell heavily upon a stone, and drave his shoulder out
of its place. Then knew he that he was hurt sore; nathless he bore him
with that force he might, and fastened his horse with the other hand
to a thorn. Then turned he on his side, and crept backwise into the
lodge of boughs. And he looked through a gap in the lodge and saw the
stars in heaven, and one that was brighter than the rest; so began he
to speak....
When Nicolette heard Aucassin, she came to him, for she was not far
away. She passed within the lodge, and threw her arms about his neck,
clipt him and kissed him.
"Fair, sweet friend, welcome be thou!"
"And thou, fair, sweet love, be thou welcome!"
So either kissed and clipt the other, and fair joy was them between.
"Ha! sweet love," quoth Aucassin, "but now was I sore hurt, and my
shoulder wried, but I take no heed of it, nor have no hurt therefrom,
since I have thee."
Right so felt she his shoulder and found it was wried from its place.
And she so handled it with her white hands, and so wrought in her
surgery, that by God's will who loveth lovers, it went back into its
place. Then took she flowers, and fresh grass, and leaves green, and
bound them on the hurt with a strip of her smock, and he was all
healed....
When all they of the court heard her speak thus, that she was daughter
to the King of Carthage, they knew well that she spake truly; so made
they great joy of her, and led her to the castle with great honor, as
a king's daughter. And they would have given her to her lord a king of
Paynim, but she had no mind to marry. There dwelt she three days or
four. And she considered by what device she might seek for Aucassin.
Then she got her a viol, and learned to play on it; till they would
have married her one day to a rich king of Paynim, and she stole
forth by night, and came to the seaport, and dwelt with a poor woman
thereby. Then took she a certain herb, and therewith smeared her head
and her face, till she was all brown and stained. And she had a coat,
and mantle, and smock, and breeches made, and attired herself as if
she had been a minstrel. So took she the viol and went to a mariner,
and so wrought on him that he took her aboard his vessel. Then hoisted
they sail, and fared on the high seas even till they came to the land
of Provence. And Nicolette went forth and took the viol, and went
playing through all the country, even till she came to the castle of
Beaucaire, where Aucassin was.
JEAN FROISSART
Born in France in 1337, died in 1410; went to England in
1360 by invitation of Queen Philippa, a French woman;
visited Scotland in 1365 and Italy in 1368, where he met
Petrarch, and Chaucer; published his "Chronicles," covering
events from 1325 until about 1400, at the close of the
fifteenth century, the same being one of the first books
printed from movable types; the modern edition comprizes
twenty-five volumes.
THE BATTLE OF CRÉCY[8]
(1346)
The Englishmen, who were in three battles lying on the ground to rest
them, as soon as they saw the Frenchmen approach, they rose upon their
feet fair and easily without any haste, and arranged their battles.
The first, which was the Prince's battle, the archers there stood in
manner of a herse and the men of arms in the bottom of the battle. The
Earl of Northampton and the Earl of Arundel with the second battle
were on a wing in good order, ready to comfort the Prince's battle, if
need were.
[Footnote 8: The field of Crécy lies about thirty miles northwest of
Amiens, in France. The English under Edward III, numbering about
40,000 men, here defeated the French under Philip VI, numbering 80,000
men, the French loss being commonly placed at 30,000.
Of the merits of Froissart, only one opinion has prevailed. He drew a
faithful and vivid picture of events which in the main were personally
known to him. "No more graphic account exists of any age," says one
writer. Froissart was first translated into English in 1525 by
Bourchier, Lord Berners, That translation was superseded later by
others. In 1802-1805 Thomas Johnes made another translation, which has
since been the one chiefly read.]
The lords and knights of France came not to the assembly together in
good order, for some came before and some came after, in such haste
and evil order that one of them did trouble another. When the French
King saw the Englishmen his blood changed, and said to his marshals,
"Make the Genoways go on before, and begin the battle, in the name of
God and St. Denis." There were of the Genoways' cross-bows about a
fifteen thousand, but they were so weary of going afoot that day a six
leagues armed with their cross-bows, that they said to their
constables, "We be not well ordered to fight this day, for we be not
in the case to do any great deed of arms: we have more need of rest."
These words came to the Earl of Alençon, who said, "A man is well at
ease to be charged with such a sort of rascals, to be faint and fail
now at most need." Also the same season there fell a great rain and a
clipse with a terrible thunder, and before the rain there came flying
over both battles a great number of crows for fear of the tempest
coming.
Then anon the air began to wax clear, and the sun to shine fair and
bright, the which was right in the Frenchmen's eyen and on the
Englishmen's backs. When the Genoways were assembled together and
began to approach, they made a great leap and cry to abash the
Englishmen, but they stood still and stirred not for all that; then
the Genoways again the second time made another leap and a fell cry,
and stept forward a little, and the Englishmen removed not one foot;
thirdly, again they leapt and cried, and went forth till they came
within shot; then they shot fiercely with their cross-bows. Then the
English archers stept forth one pace and let fly their arrows so
wholly and so thick, that it seemed snow. When the Genoways felt the
arrows piercing through heads, arms, and breasts, many of them cast
down their cross-bows, and did cut their strings and returned
discomfited. When the French King saw them fly away, he said, "Slay
these rascals, for they shall let and trouble us without reason."
Then ye should have seen the men of arms dash in among them and killed
a great number of them; and ever still the Englishmen shot whereas
they saw thickest press the sharp arrows ran into the men of arms and
into their horses, and many fell, horse and men, among the Genoways,
and when they were down, they could not relieve again; the press was
so thick that one overthrew another. And also among the Englishmen
there were certain rascals that went afoot with great knives, and they
went in among the men of arms and slew and murdered many as they lay
on the ground, both earls, barons, knights, and squires; whereof the
King of England was after displeased, for he had rather they had been
taken prisoners.
The valiant King of Bohemia called Charles of Luxembourg, son to the
noble Emperor Henry of Luxembourg, for all that he was nigh blind,
when he understood the order of the battle, he said to them about him,
"Where is the Lord Charles my son?" His men said, "Sir, we can not
tell; we think he be fighting." Then he said, "Sirs, ye are my men, my
companions and friends in this journey: I require you bring me so far
forward that I may strike one stroke with my sword." They said they
would do his commandment, and to the intent that they should not lose
him in the press, they tied all their reins of their bridles each to
other and set the King before to accomplish his desire, and so they
went on their enemies. The Lord Charles of Bohemia his son, who wrote
himself King of Almaine and bare the arms, he came in good order to
the battle; but when he saw that the matter went awry on their party,
he departed, I can not tell you which way. The King his father was so
far forward that he strake a stroke with his sword, yea, and more than
four, and fought valiantly, and so did his company; and they
adventured themselves so forward that they were there all slain, and
the next day they were found in the place about the King, and all
their horses tied each to other.
The Earl of Alençon came to the battle right ordinately and fought
with the Englishmen, and the Earl of Flanders also on his part. These
two lords with their companies coasted the English archers and came to
the Prince's battle, and there fought valiantly long. The French King
would fain have come thither, when he saw their banners, but there was
a great hedge of archers before him. The same day the French King had
given a great black courser to Sir John of Hainault, and he made the
Lord Thierry of Senzeille to ride on him and to bear his banner. The
same horse took the bridle in the teeth and brought him through all
the currours of the Englishmen, and as he would have returned again,
he fell in a great dike and was sore hurt, and had been there dead,
and his page had not been, who followed him through all the battles
and saw where his master lay in the dike, and had none other let but
for his horse; for the Englishmen would not issue out of their battle
for taking of any prisoner. Then the page alighted and relieved his
master: then he went not back again the same way that they came; there
was too many in his way.
This battle between Broye and Crécy this Saturday was right cruel and
fell, and many a feat of arms done that came not to my knowledge. In
the night divers knights and squires lost their masters, and sometime
came on the Englishmen, who received them in such wise that they were
ever nigh slain; for there was none taken to mercy nor to ransom, for
so the Englishmen were determined.
In the morning the day of the battle certain Frenchmen and Almains
perforce opened the archers of the Prince's battle, and came and
fought with the men of arms hand to hand. Then the second battle of
the Englishmen came to succor the Prince's battle, the which was time,
for they had as then much ado; and they with the Prince sent a
messenger to the King, who was on a little windmill hill. Then the
knight said to the King, "Sir, the Earl of Warwick and the Earl of
Oxford, Sir Raynold Cobham and other, such as be about the Prince your
son, are fiercely fought withal and are sore handled; wherefore they
desire you that you and your battle will come and aid them; for if the
Frenchmen increase, as they doubt they will, your son and they shall
have much ado." Then the King said, "Is my son dead, or hurt, or on
the earth felled?" "No, sir," quoth the knight, "but he is hardly
matched; wherefore he hath need of your aid." "Well," said the King,
"return to him and to them that sent you hither, and say to them that
they send no more to me for any adventure that falleth, as long as my
son is alive: and also say to them that they suffer him this day to
win his spurs; for if God be pleased, I will this journey be his and
the honor thereof, and to them that be about him." Then the knight
returned again to them and shewed the King's words, the which, greatly
encouraged them, and repined in that they had sent to the King as they
did.
Sir Godfrey of Harcourt would gladly that the Earl of Harcourt, his
brother, might have been saved; for he heard say by them that saw his
banner how that he was there in the field on the French party: but Sir
Godfrey could not come to him betimes, for he was slain or he could
come at him, and so was also the Earl of Aumale his nephew. In another
place the Earl of Alençon and the Earl of Flanders fought valiantly,
every lord under his own banner; but finally they could not resist
against the puissance of the Englishmen, and so there they were also
slain, and divers other knights and squires. Also the Earl Louis of
Blois, nephew to the French King, and the Duke of Lorraine, fought
under their banners; but at last they were closed in among a company
of Englishmen and Welshmen, and there were slain for all their
prowess. Also there was slain the Earl of Auxerre, the Earl of
Saint-Pol, and many other.
In the evening the French King, who had left about him no more than a
threescore persons, one and other, whereof Sir John of Hainault was
one, who had remounted once the King, for his horse was slain with an
arrow, then he said to the King, "Sir, depart hence, for it is time;
lose not yourself willfully: if ye have loss at this time, ye shall
recover it again another season." And so he took the King's horse by
the bridle and led him away in a manner perforce. Then the King rode
till he came to the castle of Broye. The gate was closed, because it
was by that time dark: then the King called the captain, who came to
the walls and said, "Who is that calleth there this time of night?"
Then the King said, "Open your gate quickly, for this is the fortune
of France." The captain knew then it was the King, and opened the gate
and let down the bridge. Then the King entered, and he had with him
but five barons, Sir John of Hainault, Sir Charles of Montmorency, the
Lord of Beaujeu, the Lord d'Aubigny, and the Lord of Montsault. The
King would not tarry there, but drank and departed thence about
midnight, and so rode by such guides as knew the country till he came
in the morning to Amiens, and there he rested.
This Saturday the Englishmen never departed from their battles for
chasing of any man, but kept still their field, and ever defended
themselves against all such as came to assail them This battle ended
about evensong time.
PHILIPPE DE COMINES
Born in France about 1445, died in 1511; after serving
Charles the Bold, went over to Louis XI, in whose household
he was a confidant and adviser; arrested on political
charges in 1486 and imprisoned more than two years; arrested
later by Charles VIII and exiled for ten years; returning to
court, he fell into disgrace, went into retirement and wrote
his "Memoirs," the first series covering the history of
France between 1464 and 1483, the second, the period from
1494 to 1498.
OF THE CHARACTER OF LOUIS XI[9]
I have seen many deceptions in this world, especially in servants
toward their masters; and I have always found that proud and stately
princes who will hear but few, are more liable to be imposed upon than
those who are open and accessible: but of all the princes that I ever
knew, the wisest and most dexterous to extricate himself out of any
danger or difficulty in time of adversity was our master King Louis
XI. He was the humblest in his conversation and habit, and the most
painful and indefatigable to win over any man to his side that he
thought capable of doing him either mischief or service: tho he was
often refused, he would never give over a man that he wished to gain,
but still prest and continued his insinuations, promising him largely,
and presenting him with such sums and honors as he knew would gratify
his ambition; and for such as he had discarded in time of peace and
prosperity, he paid dear (when he had occasion for them) to recover
them again; but when he had once reconciled them, he retained no
enmity toward them for what has passed, but employed them freely for
the future. He was naturally kind and indulgent to persons of mean
estate, and hostile to all great men who had no need of him.
[Footnote 9: From the "Memoirs." Louis reigned from 1461 to 1483. It
was he, more than any other king, who represt the power of the feudal
princes and consolidated their territories under the French monarchy.
Comines has been called "the father of modern history." Hallam says
his work "almost makes an epoch in historical literature"; while
Sainte-Beuve has declared that from it "all political history takes
its rise." Comines was translated into English by T. Banett in 1596.
The best-known modern translation is the one in Bohn's Library, made
by Andrew R. Scoble.]
Never prince was so conversable nor so inquisitive as he, for his
desire was to know everybody he could; and indeed he knew all persons
of any authority or worth in England, Spain, Portugal, and Italy, in
the territories of the Dukes of Burgundy and Bretagne, and among his
own subjects: and by those qualities he preserved the crown upon his
head, which was in much danger by the enemies he had created to
himself upon his accession to the throne.
But above all, his great bounty and liberality did him the greatest
service: and yet, as he behaved himself wisely in time of distress, so
when he thought himself a little out of danger, tho it were but by a
truce, he would disoblige the servants and officers of his court by
mean and petty ways which were little to his advantage; and as for
peace, he could hardly endure the thoughts of it. He spoke slightingly
of most people, and rather before their faces than behind their
backs; unless he was afraid of them, and of that sort there were a
great many, for he was naturally somewhat timorous. When he had done
himself any prejudice by his talk, or was apprehensive he should do
so, and wished to make amends, he would say to the person whom he had
disobliged, "I am sensible my tongue has done me a good deal of
mischief; but on the other hand, it has sometimes done me much good:
however, it is but reason I should make some reparation for the
injury." And he never used this kind of apologies to any person but he
granted some favor to the person to whom he made it, and it was always
of considerable amount.
It is certainly a great blessing from God upon any prince to have
experienced adversity as well as prosperity, good as well as evil, and
especially if the good outweighs the evil, as it did in the King our
master. I am of opinion that the troubles he was involved in in his
youth, when he fled from his father and resided six years together
with Philip, Duke of Burgundy, were of great service to him; for there
he learned to be complaisant to such as he had occasion to use, which
was no slight advantage of adversity. As soon as he found himself a
powerful and crowned king, his mind was wholly bent upon revenge; but
he quickly found the inconvenience of this, repented by degrees of his
indiscretion, and made sufficient reparation for his folly and error
by regaining those he had injured. Besides, I am very confident that
if his education had not been different from the usual education of
such nobles as I have seen in France, he could not so easily have
worked himself out of his troubles: for they are brought up to
nothing but to make themselves ridiculous, both in their clothes and
discourse; they have no knowledge of letters; no wise man is suffered
to come near them, to improve their understandings; they have
governors who manage their business, but they do nothing themselves:
nay, there are some nobles who tho they have an income of thirteen
livres, will take pride to bid you "Go to my servants and let them
answer you," thinking by such speeches to imitate the state and
grandeur of a prince; and I have seen their servants take great
advantage of them, giving them to understand they were fools; and if
afterward they came to apply their minds to business and attempted to
manage their own affairs, they began so late they could make nothing
of it. And it is certain that all those who have performed any great
or memorable action worthy to be recorded in history, began always in
their youth; and this is to be attributed to the method of their
education, or some particular blessing of God....