Part 9

The maiden then continues the discussion, explaining that 'the innocent are ay safe by right', and that only those who come as little children can win the bliss sought by the man who sold his all for a matchless pearl.

Next the poet asks whence her beauty comes, and what her office is. She replies that she is one of the brides of Christ, whom St. John in the Apocalypse saw arrayed for the bridal in the New Jerusalem. He asks to see their mansions, and by special grace is allowed to view the holy city from without. He sees it as St. John saw it, gleaming with gold, with its pillars of precious stone, its gates of pearl; its streets lighted by a divine radiance, so that there is no need of moon or sun. There is no church or chapel or temple there: God himself is the minister, and Christ is the sacrifice. Mortal eye could not bear the splendour, and he stood 'as stylle as dased quayle'. At evening came the procession of the virgin brides of Christ, each bearing on her breast the pearl of perfect happiness. The Lamb leads them, in pearl-white robes, his side bleeding, his face rapt; while elders make obeisance, and angels sing songs of joy as He nears the throne of God.

Suddenly the poet sees his Pearl among her companions. Overcome with longing and delight, he tries to cross the river, only to wake in the garden where he fell asleep. Henceforth he is resigned to the pleasure of the Prince of Heaven.

The reader will be able to judge the author's poetical gift from the selection, which has been chosen as one of the less ornate passages. Even here the form distracts attention from the matter by its elaborateness. A difficult rime scheme is superimposed on the alliterative line; stanza is interlinked with stanza; each group of five stanzas is distinguished by a similar refrain, and bound to the preceding and following groups by repetition in the first and last lines. So too the close of the poem echoes the beginning. With such intricacy of plan, it is not surprising that the rime is sometimes forced, and the sense strained or obscure. It is rather a matter for wonder that, in so long a work, the author was able to maintain his marvellous technique without completely sacrificing poetry to metrical gymnastics.

The highly wrought, almost overwrought, effect is heightened when the poem is read as a whole. If _Piers Plowman_ gives a realistic picture of the drabness of mediaeval life, _Pearl_, more especially in the early stanzas, shows a richness of imagery and a luxuriance in light and colour that seem scarcely English. Yet they have their parallels in the decorative art of the time—the elaborate carving in wood and stone; the rich colouring of tapestries, of illuminated books and painted glass; the designs of the jewellers, goldsmiths, and silversmiths, which even the notaries who made the old inventories cannot pass without a word of admiration. The _Pearl_ reminds us of the tribute due to the artists and craftsmen of the fourteenth century.

The edition by C. G. Osgood, Boston 1906, is the handiest.

THE PEARL, ll. 361-612.

(MS. Cotton Nero A X (about 1400).)

Thenne demed I to þat damyselle: 'Ne worþe no wrathþe vnto my Lorde, If rapely raue, spornande in spelle; My herte watȝ al wyth mysse remorde, As wallande water gotȝ out of welle. 5 I do me ay in Hys myserecorde; Rebuke me neuer wyth wordeȝ felle, Þaȝ I forloyne, my dere endorde, Bot _k_yþeȝ me kyndely your coumforde, Pytosly þenkande vpon þysse: 10 Of care and me ȝe made acorde, Þat er watȝ grounde of alle my blysse.

'My blysse, my bale, ȝe han ben boþe, Bot much þe bygger ȝet watȝ my mon; Fro þou watȝ wroken fro vch a woþe, 15 I wyste neuer quere my perle watȝ gon. Now I hit se, now leþeȝ my loþe; And, quen we departed, we wern at on; God forbede we be now wroþe, We meten so selden by stok oþer ston. 20 Þaȝ cortaysly ȝe carp con, I am bot mol and ma_n_ereȝ mysse; Bot Crystes mersy, and Mary, and Ion, Þise arn þe grounde of alle my blysse.

'In blysse I se þe blyþely blent, 25 And I a man al mornyf mate; Ȝe take þeron ful lyttel tente, Þaȝ I hente ofte harmeȝ hate. Bot now I am here in your presente, I wolde bysech, wythouten debate, 30 Ȝe wolde me say in sobre asente What lyf ȝe lede erly and late. For I am ful fayn þat your astate Is worþen to worschyp and wele, iwysse; Of alle my ioy þe hyȝe gate 35 Hit is, _and_ grounde of alle my blysse.'

'Now blysse, burne, mot þe bytyde,' Þen sayde þat lufsoum of lyth and lere, 'And welcum here to walk and byde, For now þy speche is to me dere. 40 Maysterful mod and hyȝe pryde, I hete þe, arn heterly hated here. My Lorde ne loueȝ not for to chyde, For meke arn alle þat woneȝ Hym nere; And when in Hys place þou schal apere, 45 Be dep deuote in hol mekenesse; My Lorde þe Lamb loueȝ ay such chere, Þat is þe grounde of alle my blysse.

'A blysful lyf þou says I lede; Þou woldeȝ knaw þerof þe stage. 50 Þow wost wel when þy perle con schede I watȝ ful ȝong and tender of age; Bot my Lorde þe Lombe, þurȝ Hys Godhede, He toke myself to Hys maryage, Corounde me quene in blysse to brede 55 In lenghe of dayeȝ þat euer schal wage; And sesed in alle Hys herytage Hys lef is, I am holy Hysse; Hys prese, Hys prys, and Hys parage Is rote and grounde of alle my blysse.' 60

'Blysful,' quod I, 'may þys be trwe?— Dyspleseȝ not if I speke errour— Art þou þe quene of heueneȝ blwe, Þat al þys worlde schal do honour? We leuen on Marye þat grace of grewe, 65 Þat ber a barne of vyrgynflour; Þe croune fro hyr quo moȝt remwe Bot ho hir passed in sum fauour? Now, for synglerty o hyr dousour, We calle hyr Fenyx of Arraby, 70 Þat freles fleȝe of hyr fasor, Lyk to þe quen of cortaysye.'

'Cortayse Quen,' þenne s yde þat gaye, Knelande to grounde, folde vp hyr face, 'Makeleȝ Moder and myryest May, 75 Blessed Bygynner of vch a grace!' Þenne ros ho vp and con restay, And speke me towarde in þat space: 'Sir, fele here porchaseȝ and fongeȝ pray, Bot supplantoreȝ none wythinne þys place. 80 Þat emperise al heueneȝ hatȝ, And vrþe and helle in her bayly; Of erytage ȝet non wyl ho chace, For ho is quen of cortaysye.

'The court of þe kyndom of God alyue 85 Hatȝ a property in hytself beyng: Alle þat may þerinne aryue Of alle þe reme is quen oþer kyng, And neuer oþer ȝet schal depryue, Bot vchon fayn of oþereȝ hafyng, 90 And wolde her corouneȝ wern worþe þo fyue, If possyble were her mendyng. Bot my Lady, of quom Iesu con spryng, Ho haldeȝ þe empyre ouer vus ful hyȝe; And þat dyspleseȝ non of oure gyng, 95 For ho is quene of cortaysye.

'Of courtaysye, as saytȝ Saynt Poule, Al arn we membreȝ of Iesu Kryst; As heued and arme and legg and naule Temen to hys body ful trwe and t yste, 100 Ryȝt so is vch a Krysten sawle A longande lym to þe Mayster of myste. Þenne loke what hate oþer any gawle Is tached oþer tyȝed þy lymmeȝ bytwyste: Þy heued hatȝ nauþer greme ne gryste 105 On arme oþer fynger þaȝ þou ber byȝe: So fare we alle wyth luf and lyste To kyng and quene by cortaysye.'

'Cortaysé,' quod I, 'I leue, And charyté grete, be yow among, 110 Bot my speche þat yow ne greue,

* * * * *

Þyself in heuen ouer hyȝ þou heue, To make þe quen þat watȝ so ȝonge. What more honour moȝte he acheue 115 Þat hade endured in worlde stronge, And lyued in penaunce hys lyueȝ longe, Wyth bodyly bale hym blysse to byye? What more worschyp moȝt h_e_ fonge, Þen corounde be kyng by cortaysé? 120

'That cortaysé is to fre of dede, Ȝyf hyt be soth þat þou coneȝ saye; Þou lyfed not two ȝer in oure þede; Þou cowþeȝ neuer God nauþer plese ne pray, Ne neuer nawþer Pater ne Crede; 125 And quen mad on þe fyrst day! I may not traw, so God me spede, Þat God wolde wryþe so wrange away; Of countes, damysel, par ma fay! Wer fayr in heuen to halde asstate, 130 Aþer elleȝ a lady of lasse aray; Bot a quene!—hit is to dere a date.'

'Þer is no date of Hys godnesse,' Þen sayde to me þat worþy wyȝte, 'For al is trawþe þat He con dresse, 135 And He may do no þynk bot ryȝt, As Mathew meleȝ in your messe, In sothful Gospel of God Almyȝt, In sample he can ful grayþely gesse, And lykneȝ hit to heuen lyȝte: 140 "My regne," He saytȝ, "is lyk on hyȝt To a lorde þat hade a uyne, I wate. Of tyme of ȝere þe terme watȝ tyȝt, To labor vyne watȝ dere þe date.

'"Þat date of ȝere wel knawe þys hyne. 145 Þe lorde ful erly vp he ros, To hyre werkmen to hys vyne, And fyndeȝ þer summe to hys porpos. Into acorde þay con declyne For a pené on a day, and forth þay gotȝ, 150 Wryþen and worchen and don gret pyne, Keruen and caggen and man hit clos. Aboute vnder, þe lorde to marked totȝ, And ydel men stande he fyndeȝ þerate. 'Why stande ȝe ydel?' he sayde to þos; 155 'Ne knawe ȝe of þis day no date?'

'"'Er date of daye hider arn we wonne;' So watȝ al samen her answar soȝt; 'We haf standen her syn ros þe sunne, And no mon byddeȝ vus do ryȝt noȝt.' 160 'Gos into my vyne, dotȝ þat ȝe conne,' So sayde þe lorde, and made hit toȝt; 'What resonabele hyre be naȝt be runne I yow pay in dede and þoȝte.' Þay wente into þe vyne and wroȝte, 165 And al day þe lorde þus ȝede his gate, And nw men to hys vyne he broȝte, Welneȝ wyl day watȝ passed date.

'"At þe date of day of euensonge, On oure byfore þe sonne go doun, 170 He seȝ þer ydel men ful stronge, And sa de to he_m_ wyth sobre soun: 'Wy stonde ȝe ydel þise dayeȝ longe?' Þay sayden her hyre watȝ nawhere boun. 'Gotȝ to my vyne, ȝemen ȝonge, 175 And wyrkeȝ and dotȝ þat at ȝe moun.' Sone þe worlde bycom wel broun, Þe sunne watȝ doun, and hit wex late; To take her hyre he mad sumoun; Þe day watȝ al apassed date. 180

'"The date of þe daye þe lorde con knaw, Called to þe reue: 'Lede, pay þe meyny; Gyf hem þe hyre þat I hem owe; And fyrre, þat non me may reprené, Set hem alle vpon a rawe, 185 And gyf vchon ilyche a peny; Bygyn at þe laste þat standeȝ lowe, Tyl to þe fyrste þat þou atteny.' And þenne þe fyrst bygonne to pleny, And sayden þat þay hade trauayled sore: 190 'Þese bot on oure hem con streny; Vus þynk vus oȝe to take more.

'"'More haf we serued, vus þynk so, Þat suffred han þe dayeȝ hete, Þenn þyse þat wroȝt not houreȝ two, 195 And þou dotȝ hem vus to counterfete.' Þenne sayde þe lorde to on of þo: 'Frende no waning I wyl þe ȝete; Take þat is þyn owne and go. And I hyred þe for a peny agrete, 200 Quy bygynneȝ þou now to þrete? Watȝ not a pené þy couenaunt þore? Fyrre þen couenaunde is noȝt to plete. Wy schalte þou þenne ask more?

'"'More weþer †louyly† is me my gyfte 205 To do wyth myn quat so me lykeȝ? Oþer elleȝ þyn yȝe to lyþer is lyfte For I am goude and non byswykeȝ?' 'Þus schal I,' quod Kryste, 'hit skyfte: Þe laste schal be þe fyrst þat strykeȝ, 210 And þe fyrst be laste, be he neuer so swyft; For mony ben calle , þaȝ fewe be mykeȝ.'" Þus pore men her part ay pykeȝ, Þaȝ þay com late and lyttel wore; And þaȝ her sweng wyth lyttel atslykeȝ, 215 Þe merci of God is much þe more.

'More haf I of ioye and blysse hereinne, Of ladyschyp gret and lyueȝ blom, Þen alle þe wyȝeȝ in þe worlde myȝt wynne By þe way of ryȝt to aske dome. 220 Wheþer welnygh now I con bygynne— In euentyde into þe vyne I come— Fyrst of my hyre my Lorde con mynne, I watȝ payed anon of al and sum. Ȝet oþer þer werne þat toke more tom, 225 Þat swange and swat for long ȝore, Þat ȝet of hyre no þynk þay nom, Paraunter noȝt schal toȝere more.'

Then more I meled and sayde apert: 'Me þynk þy tale vnresounable; 230 Goddeȝ ryȝt is redy and euermore rert, Oþer Holy Wryt is bot a fable; In Sauter is sayd a verce ouerte Þat spekeȝ a poynt determynable: "Þou quyteȝ vchon as hys desserte, 235 Þou hyȝe Kyng ay pretermynable." Now he þat stod þe long day stable, And þou to payment com hym byfore, Þenne þe lasse in werke to take more able, And euer þe lenger þe lasse þe more.' 240

'Of more and lasse in Godeȝ ryche,' Þat gentyl sayde, 'lys no ioparde, For þer is vch mon payed ilyche, Wheþer lyttel oþer much be hys rewarde, For þe gentyl Cheuentayn is no chyche; 245 Queþersoeuer He dele nesch oþer harde, He laueȝ Hys gyfteȝ as water of dyche, Oþer goteȝ of golf þat neuer charde. Hys fraunchyse is large þat euer dard To Hym þat matȝ in synne rescoghe; 250 No blysse betȝ fro hem reparde, For þe grace of God is gret inoghe.

[Foot-note: 9 kyþeȝ] lyþeȝ _MS._]

[Foot-note: 22 manereȝ] marereȝ _MS._]

[Foot-note: 36 and] in _MS._]

[Foot-note: 112 _a line omitted in MS._]

[Foot-note: 119 he] ho _MS._]

[Foot-note: 164 pay] pray _MS._]

[Foot-note: 169 date of day] day of date _MS._]

[Foot-note: 172 hem] hen _MS._]

[Foot-note: 178 and] & & _MS._]

[Foot-note: 186 ilyche] īlyche _MS._]

[Foot-note: 243 ilyche] inlyche _MS._]

VII

THE GEST HYSTORIALE OF THE DESTRUCTION OF TROY

ABOUT 1375.

The Fall of Troy was one of the most popular subjects of mediaeval story. Lydgate wrote a _Troy Book_ about 1420; fragments of another are attributed to 'Barbour', whose identity with the author of _The Bruce_ has been questioned; a third version, anonymous, is known as the _Laud Troy Book_; and Caxton chose as the first work to be printed in English the _Recuyell of the Historyes of Troye_ (about 1474). More famous than any of these full histories are two single stories detached from the cycle: Jason's Quest of the Golden Fleece, which is admirably told by Gower in the fifth book of his _Confessio Amantis_; and the Love of Troilus and Cressida, which gave a theme both to Chaucer and to Shakespeare.

The _Gest Hystoriale of the Destruction of Troy_, from which our extracts are taken, is a free rendering of the prose _Historia Troiana_ finished in 1287 by Guido de Columna (most probably the modern Terranova in Sicily). The translation, which appears to have been made in the North or North-West Midlands in the second half of the fourteenth century, is preserved only in an imperfect fifteenth-century MS. at the Hunterian Museum, Glasgow. In the Early English Text Society's print, edited by Panton and Donaldson, the text extends to over 14,000 lines.

The table of contents prefixed to the MS. promises '_the nome of the knight þat causet it_ [sc. _the story_] _to be made, and the nome of hym that translatid it out of Latyn into Englysshe_'; but the extant MS. does not fulfil the promise. The execution suggests a set task and a journeyman poet. Phrases are repeated carelessly; there is a great deal of padding; the versification is monotonous; and the writer is too often at the mercy of the alliteration to maintain a serious level. Yet he is not a slavish or a dull translator. The more romantic elements of the story, such as the matter of the _Odyssey_, had already been whittled away in his original, and he shows little desire or capacity to restore them. But he knew as well as the Old English poets the forcefulness of alliterative verse in scenes of violence, and describes with unflagging zest and vigour the interminable battles of the siege, and storms such as that which wrecked the fleet of Ajax.

The Prologue is a curious example of the pseudo-critical attitude of the Middle Ages. Homer is despised as a teller of impossible tales, and a partisan of the Greeks,—for Hector is the popular hero of the mediaeval versions. The narratives of Dares Phrygius and Dictys Cretensis, products of the taste for fictitious history that spread westward from Greek-speaking lands in the fourth and following centuries, are accepted as reliable documents; and Guido de Columna as their authoritative literary interpreter. No mention is made of Benoît de Sainte-Maure, whose _Roman de Troie_, written in French about 1184, served as source to Guido, and, directly or indirectly, as inspiration to the whole body of Western writers who dealt with the 'Matter of Troy'. For these lapses the English translator need not be held responsible. On the merits of Homer, Dares, Dictys, and Guido de Columna, he probably accepted without question the word of his master Guido.

PROLOGUE.

Maistur in magesté, Maker of alle, Endles and on, euer to last! Now, God, of þi grace, graunt me þi helpe, And wysshe me with wyt þis werke for to ende Off aunters ben olde of aunsetris nobill, 5 And slydyn vppon shlepe by slomeryng of age; Of stithe men in stoure, strongest in armes, And wisest in wer, to wale in hor tyme, Þat ben drepit with deth, and þere day paste, And most out of mynd for þere mecull age. 10 Sothe stories ben stoken vp, and straught out of mynde, And swolowet into swym by swiftenes of yeres, For new þat ben now next at our hond, Breuyt into bokes for boldyng of hertes, On lusti to loke with lightnes of wille, 15 Cheuyt throughe chaunce and chaungyng of peopull; Sum tru for to traist, triet in þe ende, Sum feynit o fere and ay false vnder. Yche wegh as he will warys his tyme, And has lykyng to lerne þat hym list after. 20 But olde stories of stithe þat astate helde May be solas to sum þat it segh neuer, Be writyng of wees þat wist it in dede, With sight for to serche of hom þat suet after, To ken all the crafte how þe case felle 25 By lokyng of letturs þat lefte were of olde.

Now of Troy for to telle is myn entent euyn, Of the stoure and þe stryffe when it distroyet was. Þof fele yeres ben faren syn þe fight endid, And it meuyt out of mynd, myn hit I thinke, 30 Alss wise men haue writen the wordes before, Left it in Latyn for lernyng of us. But sum poyetis full prist þat put hom þerto With fablis and falshed fayned þere speche, And made more of þat mater þan hom maister were. 35 Sum lokyt ouer litle, and lympit of the sothe. Amonges þat menye, to myn hym be nome, Homer was holden haithill of dedis Qwiles his dayes enduret, derrist of other, Þat with the Grekys was gret, and of Grice comyn. 40 He feynet myche fals was neuer before wroght, And turnet þe truth, trust ye non other. Of his trifuls to telle I haue no tome nowe, Ne of his feynit fare þat he fore with: How goddes foght in the filde, folke as þai were! 45 And other errours vnable, þat after were knowen, That poyetis of prise have preuyt vntrew: Ouyde and othir þat onest were ay, Virgille þe virtuus, verrit for nobill, Thes dampnet his dedys, and for dull holdyn. 50 But þe truth for to telle, and þe text euyn, Of þat fight, how it felle in a few yeres, Þat was clanly compilet with a clerk wise, On Gydo, a gome þat graidly hade soght, And wist all þe werks by weghes he hade, 55 That bothe were in batell while the batell last, And euþer sawte and assembly see with þere een. Thai wrote all þe werkes wroght at þat tyme In letturs of þere langage, as þai lernede hade: Dares and Dytes were duly þere namys. 60 Dites full dere was dew to the Grekys, A lede of þat lond, and logede hom with. The tother was a tulke out of Troy selfe, Dares, þat duly the dedys behelde. Aither breuyt in a boke on þere best wise, 65 That sithen at a sité somyn were founden, After, at Atthenes, as aunter befell. The whiche bokes barely, bothe as þai were, A Romayn ouerraght, and right hom hymseluyn, That Cornelius was cald to his kynde name. 70 He translated it into Latyn for likyng to here, But he shope it so short þat no shalke might Haue knowlage by course how þe case felle; For he brought it so breff, and so bare leuyt, Þat no lede might have likyng to loke þerappon; 75 Till þis Gydo it gate, as hym grace felle, And declaret it more clere, and on clene wise. In this shall faithfully be founden, to the fer ende, All þe dedis bydene as þai done were: How þe groundes first grew, and þe grete hate, 80 Bothe of torfer and tene þat hom tide aftur. And here fynde shall ye faire of þe felle peopull: What kynges þere come of costes aboute; Of dukes full doughty, and of derffe erles, That assemblid to þe citie þat sawte to defend; 85 Of þe Grekys þat were gedret how gret was þe nowmber, How mony knightes þere come, and kynges enarmede, And what dukes thedur droghe for dedis of were; What shippes þere were shene, and shalkes within, Bothe of barges and buernes þat broght were fro Grese; 90 And all the batels on bent þe buernes betwene; What duke þat was dede throughe dyntes of hond, Who fallen was in fylde, and how it fore after. Bothe of truse and trayne þe truthe shalt þu here, And all the ferlies þat fell, vnto the ferre ende. 95 Fro this prologe I passe, and part me þerwith. Frayne will I fer, and fraist of þere werkes, Meue to my mater, and make here an ende.

EXPLICIT PROLOGUE.

THE XXXI BOKE: OF THE PASSAGE OF THE GREKYS FRO TROY (ll. 12463-12547).