FOOTNOTES:

En l'an de l'incarnacïon,VIII jors aprés la nascïonJhesu qui soufri passïon,en l'an soissante,qu'arbres n'a foille, oisel ne chante,fis je toute la rien dolanteque de cuer m'aime:nis li musarz musart me claime.or puis filer, qu'il me faut traime;mult ai a faire.deus ne fist cuer tant de pute aire,tant li aie fait de contrairene de martire,s'il en mon martire se mire,qui ne doie de bon cuer dire'je te claim cuite.'envoier un home en Egypte,ceste dolor est plus petiteque n'est la moie;je n'en puis mais se je m'esmoie.l'en dit que fous qui ne foloiepert sa saison:sui je marïez sanz raison?or n'ai ne borde ne maison.encor plus fort:por plus doner de reconforta ceus qui me heent de mort,tel fame ai priseque nus fors moi n'aime ne prise,et s'estoit povre et entreprise,quant je la pris.a ci marïage de pris,c'or sui povres et entreprisausi comme ele,et si n'est pas gente ne bele.cinquante anz a en s'escuële,s'est maigre et seche:n'ai pas paor qu'ele me treche.despuis que fu nez en la grechedeus de Marie,ne fu mais tele espouserie.je sui toz plains d'envoiserie:bien pert a l'uevre.

Though he has less of the 'lyrical cry' than some others, Rutebœuf is perhaps the most vigorous poet of his time.

Lais. Marie de France.

There is one division of early poetry which may also be noticed under this head, though it is sometimes dealt with as a kind of miniature epic. This is thelai, a term which is used in old French poetry with two different significations. The Trouvères of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries made of it a regular lyrical form. But the most famous of its examples, those which now pass under the name of Marie de France, are narrative poems in octosyllabic verse and varying in length considerably. It is agreed that the term and the thing are of Breton origin; and the opinion which seems most probable is that the word originally had reference rather to the style of music with which the harper accompanied his verse, than to the measure, arrangement, or subject of the latter. As to Marie herself[75], nothing is known about her with certainty. She lived in England in the reign of Henry III, and often gives English equivalents for her French words. Thelaiswhich we possess, written by her and attributed to her, are fourteen in number. They bear the titles ofGugemer,Equitan,Le Fresne,Le Bisclaveret,Lanval,Les Deux Amants,Ywenec,Le Laustic,Milun,Le Chaitivel,Le Chèvrefeuille,Eliduc,GraalentandL'Espine. Mr. O'Shaughnessy has paraphrased several of these inEnglish[76]; they are all narrative in character. Their distinguishing features are fluent and melodious versification, pure and graceful language—among the purest and most graceful, though decidedly Norman in character, of the time—true poetical feeling, and a lively faculty of invention and description. After Marie there was a tendency to approximate thelaito the Provençaldescort, and at last, as we have said, it acquired rules and a form quite alien from those of its earlier examples. There is a general though not a universal inclination to melancholy of subject in the early lays, a few of which are anonymous.

Note to Third Edition.—M. Gaston Paris has expressed some surprise at my remarks on metre (p. 63). This from so accomplished a scholar is a curious instance of the difficulty which Frenchmen seem to feel in appreciating quantity. To an English eye and ear which have been trained to classical prosody the trochaic rhythm of, for instance, the Pastourelle quoted on p. 65, is unmistakable, and there are anapaestic metres to be found here and there in early poems of the same kind. Indeed, all French poetry is easily scanned quantitatively, though the usual authorities protest against such scansion. Voltaire, it is said, took Turgot's hexameters for prose, and the significance of this is the same whether the mistake, as is probable, was mischievous or whether it was genuine.

FOOTNOTES:[67]Leipsic, 1870.[68]See note at end of chapter.[69]This miscellaneous lyric for the most part awaits collection and publication. M. G. Raynaud has given a valuableBibliographie des Chansonniers Français des XIIIeet XIVesiècles. 2 vols., Paris, 1884. Also a collection ofmotets. Paris, 1881.[70]Philippe Mouskès. This is it:La terre fut pis en cest anQuar li vieux Quesnes estoit mors.[71]The best edition is in Schéler'sTrouvères Belges. Brussels, 1876.[72]Rheims, 1851.[73]The most convenient place to look for Adam's history and work isLe Théâtre Français au Moyen Age. Par Monmerqué et Michel. Paris, 1874. There are also separate editions of him by Coussemaker, and more recently by A. Rambeau. Marburg, 1886.[74]By A. Jubinal. 2nd edition. 3 vols. Paris, 1874.[75]Ed. Roquefort. 2 vols. Paris, 1820. The first volume contains the lays; the later the fables, which have been noticed in the last chapter. Later edition, Warnke. Halle, 1885. Marie also wrote a poem on the Purgatory of St. Patrick. Three other lays,Tidorel,Gringamor, andTiolethave been attributed to her, and are printed inRomania, vol. viii.[76]Lays of France, London, 1872.

[67]Leipsic, 1870.

[68]See note at end of chapter.

[69]This miscellaneous lyric for the most part awaits collection and publication. M. G. Raynaud has given a valuableBibliographie des Chansonniers Français des XIIIeet XIVesiècles. 2 vols., Paris, 1884. Also a collection ofmotets. Paris, 1881.

[70]Philippe Mouskès. This is it:La terre fut pis en cest anQuar li vieux Quesnes estoit mors.

[70]Philippe Mouskès. This is it:

La terre fut pis en cest anQuar li vieux Quesnes estoit mors.

[71]The best edition is in Schéler'sTrouvères Belges. Brussels, 1876.

[72]Rheims, 1851.

[73]The most convenient place to look for Adam's history and work isLe Théâtre Français au Moyen Age. Par Monmerqué et Michel. Paris, 1874. There are also separate editions of him by Coussemaker, and more recently by A. Rambeau. Marburg, 1886.

[74]By A. Jubinal. 2nd edition. 3 vols. Paris, 1874.

[75]Ed. Roquefort. 2 vols. Paris, 1820. The first volume contains the lays; the later the fables, which have been noticed in the last chapter. Later edition, Warnke. Halle, 1885. Marie also wrote a poem on the Purgatory of St. Patrick. Three other lays,Tidorel,Gringamor, andTiolethave been attributed to her, and are printed inRomania, vol. viii.

[76]Lays of France, London, 1872.

In consequence of the slowness with which prose was used for any regular literary purpose in France, verse continued to do duty for it until a comparatively late period in almost all departments of literature. By the very earliest years of the twelfth century, and probably much earlier (though we have no certain evidence of this latter fact), documents of all kinds began to be written in verse of various forms. Among the earliest serious verse that was written rank, as we might expect, verse chronicles. It was not till 1200 at soonest that long translations from the Latin in French prose were made, but such translations, and original works as well, were written in French verse long before.

Verse Chronicles.

The rhymed Chronicles were numerous, but, with rare exceptions, they cannot be said to be of any very great literary importance. Whether they were imitated directly from the Chansons de Gestes, orvice versa, is a question which, as it happens, can be settled without difficulty. For they are almost all in octosyllabic couplets, a metre certainly later than the assonanced decasyllabics of the earliest Chansons. The latter form and the somewhat later dodecasyllable or Alexandrine are rarely used for Verse Chronicles, the most remarkable exception being the spiritedCombat des Trente[77], which is however very late, and theChronique de du Guesclinof the same date. There are earlier examples of history in Alexandrines (some are found in the twelfth century, such as the account of Henry the Second's Scotch Wars by Jordan Fantome, Chancellor of the diocese of Winchester), but they are not numerous or important. It is notunworthy of notice that the majority of the early Verse Chronicles are English or Anglo-Norman. The first of importance is that of Geoffrey Gaymar, whose Chronicle of English history was written about 1146. Gaymar was followed by a much better known writer, the Jerseyman Wace[78], who not only, as has been mentioned, versified Geoffrey of Monmouth into theBrut[79], but produced the importantRoman de Rou[80], giving the history of the Dukes of Normandy and of the Conquest of England. The date of theBrutis 1155, of theRou1160. This latter is the better of the two, though Wace was not a great poet. It consists chiefly of octosyllabics, with a curious insertion of Alexandrines in rhymed not assonancedlaisses. Wace was followed by Benoist de Sainte-More, who extended his Chronicle of the Dukes of Normandy to more than forty thousand verses. The 'Life of St. Thomas' (Becket), by Garnier de Pont St. Maxence, also deserves notice, as does an anonymous poem on the English wars in Ireland. But the most interesting of this group is probably the history[81]of William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, who died in 1219 and who during his life played a great part in England. It abounds in passages of historical interest and literary value. During the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the practice of writing history in verse gradually died out, yet some of the most important examples date from this time. Such are the Chronicles of Philippe Mouskès[82], a Fleming, in more than thirty thousand verses, extending from the Siege of Troy to the year 1243. Mouskès is of some importance in literary history, because of the great extent to which he has drawn on the Chansons de Gestes for his information. In 1304 Guillaume Guiart, a native of Orleans, wrote in twelve thousand verses a Chronicle of the thirteenth century, including a few years earlier and later. There are a large number of other Verse Chronicles, but few of them are of much importance historically, and fewer still of any literary interest.

History, however, was by no means the only serious subject which took this incongruous form in the middle ages. The amount of miscellaneous verse written during the period between the end of the eleventh and the beginning of the fifteenth century is indeed enormous. Only a very small portion of it has ever been printed, and the mere summary description of the manuscripts which contain it is as yet far from complete. If it be said generally that, during the greater part of these three hundred years, the first impulse of any one who wished to write, no matter on what subject, was to write in verse, and that the popular notion of the want of literary tastes in the middle ages is utterly mistaken, some idea may be formed of the vast extent of literature, poetical in form, which was then produced. Much no doubt of this literature is not in the least worthy of detailed notice; much, whether worthy or not, must from mere considerations of space and proportion remain unnoticed here. What is possible, is to indicate briefly the chief forms, authors, and subjects, which fall under the heading of this chapter, and to give a somewhat detailed account of the great serious poem of mediæval France, theRoman de la Rose. Peculiarities of metre and so forth will be indicated where it is necessary, but it may be said generally that the great mass of this literature is in octosyllabic couplets.

Miscellaneous Satirical Verse.

It has already been observed in discussing the Fabliaux that the first enquirers into old French literature were led to include a very miscellaneous assortment of poems under that head; and it may now be added that this miscellaneous assortment with much else constitutes thefarragoof the present chapter. The two great poems of theRoman du Renartand theRoman de la Rosestand as representatives of the more or less serious poetry of the time, and everything else may be said to be included between them. Beginning nearest to theRoman du Renartand its kindred Fabliaux, we find a vast number of half-satirical styles of poetry, many, if not most of them, known (according to what has been noted inthe preface as characteristic of mediaeval literature) by distinctive form-names. Of theseditsanddébatshave already been noticed, but it is not easy to give a notion of the number of the existing examples, or of the extraordinary diversity of subjects to which both, and especially thedits, extend. Perhaps some estimate may be formed from the fact that theditsof three Flemish poets alone, Baudouin de Condé, Jean de Condé, and Watriquet de Couvin, fill four stout octavo volumes[83]. The subjects of these and of the large number ofditscomposed by other writers and anonymous are almost innumerable. The earliest are for the most part simple enumerations of the names of streets, of street cries, of guilds, of coins, and such-like things. By degrees they become more definitely didactic, and at last allegorical moralising masters them as it does almost every other kind of poetry in the fourteenth century. Thedébat, sometimes calleddispute, orbataille, is an easily understood variety of thedit. Rutebœuf's principaldébathas been named; another in a less serious spirit is that betweenCharlot et le Barbier. There is aBataille des Vins, aBataille de Caréme et de Charnage, aDébat de l'Hiver et l'Été, etc., etc. Another name much used for half-satirical, half-didactic verse was that ofBible, of which the most famous (probably because it was the first known) is that of Guyot de Provins,—a violent onslaught on the powers that were in Church and State by a discontented monk. An extract from it will illustrate this division of the subject as well as anything else:—

Des fisicïens me merveil:de lor huevre et de lor conseilrai ge certes mont grant merveille,nule vie ne s'apareillea la lor, trop par est diverseet sor totes autres perverse.bien les nomme li communs nons;mais je ne cuit qu'i ne soit honsqui ne les doie mont douter.il ne voudroient ja trovernul home sanz aucun mehaing.maint oingnement font e maint baingou il n'a ne senz ne raison,cil eschape d'orde prisonqui de lor mains puet eschaper.qui bien set mentir et guileret faire noble contenance,tout ont trové fors la crëanceque les genz ont lor fait a bien.tiex mil se font fisicïenqui n'en sevent voir nes que gié.li plus maistre sont mont changiéde grant ennui, n'il n'est mestiersdont il soit tant de mençongiers.il ocïent mont de la gent:ja n'ont ne ami ne parentque il volsissent trover sain;de ce resont il trop vilain.mont a d'ordure en ces lïens.qui en main a fisicïens,se met par els. il m'ont ëuentre lor mains: onques ne fu,ce cuit, nule plus orde vie.je n'aim mie lor compaignie,si m'aït dex, qant je sui sains:honiz est qui chiet en lor mains.par foi, qant je malades fui,moi covint soffrir lor ennui.

Testamentsof the satirical kind, chiefly noteworthy for the brilliant use which Villon made of the tradition of composing them,resveriesandfatrasies(nonsense poems with a more or less satirical drift), parodies of the offices of the Church, of its sermons, of the miracle plays, are the chief remaining divisions of the poetry which, under a light and scoffing envelope, conceals a serious purpose.

Didactic verse. Philippe de Thaun.

Such things have at all times been composed in verse, and the reason is sufficiently obvious. In the first place, the intention of the writers is to a certain extent masked, and in the second, the reader's attention is attracted. But the middle ages by no means confined the use of verse to such cases. Downright instruction was, as often as not, the object of the verse writer in those days. The earliest, and as such the most curious of didactic poems, are those of Philippe de Thaun, an Englishman of Norman extraction, who wrote in the first quarter of the twelfth century. His two works are aComput, or Chronological Treatise,dedicated to an uncle of his, who was chaplain to Hugh Bigod, Earl of Norfolk, and aBestiary, or Zoological Catalogue, dedicated to Adela of Louvain, the wife of Henry the First. Written before the vogue of the versified Arthurian Romances had consecrated the octosyllable, these poems are in couplets of six syllables. Their great age, and to a certain extent their literary merit, deserve an extract:—

Monosceros est beste,un corn ad en la teste,pur çeo ad si a nun.de buc ele ad façun.par pucele eat prise,or oëz en quel guise,quant hom le volt caceret prendre et enginner,si vent horn al orestu sis repaires est;la met une pucelehors de sein sa mamele,e par odurementmonosceros la sent;dune vent a la pucele,si baiset sa mamele,en sun devant se dort,issi vent a sa mort;li hom survent atant,ki l'ocit en dormant,u trestut vif le prent,si fait puis sun talent.grant chose signefie,ne larei nel vus die.Monosceros griu est,en franceis un-corn est:beste de tel baillieJhesu Crist signefie;un deu est e serate fud e parmaindrat;en la virgine se mist,e pur hom charn i prist,e pur virginited,pur mustrer casteed,a virgine se parute virgine le conceut.virgine est e serate tuz jurz parmaindrat.ores oëz brefmentle signefïement.Ceste beste en verténus signefie dé;la virgine signefie,sacez, sancte Marie;par sa mamele ententsancte eglise ensement;e puis par le baiserçeo deit signefïer,que hom quant il se dorten semblance est de mort:dés cum home dormi,ki en cruiz mort sufri,ert sa destructïunnostre redemptïun,e sun traveillementnostre reposement.si deceut dés dïablepar semblant cuvenable;anme e cors sunt un,issi fud dés et hum,e içeo signefiebeste de tel baillie.

BestiariesandComputs(the French title of the Chronologies) were for some time the favourites with didactic verse writers, but before long the whole encyclopædia, as it was then understood, was turned into verse. Astrology, hunting, geography, law, medicine, history, the art of war, all had their treatises; and latterlyTrésors, or complete popular educators, as they would be callednowadays, were composed, the best-known of which is that of Walter of Metz in 1245.

Moral and Theological verse.

All, or almost all, these works, written as they were in an age sincerely pious, if somewhat grotesque in its piety, and theoretically moral, if somewhat loose in its practice, contained not only abundant moralising, but also more or less theology of the mystical kind. It would therefore have been strange if ethics and theology themselves had wanted special exponents in verse. Before the middle of the twelfth century Samson of Nanteuil (again an Englishman by residence) had versified the Proverbs of Solomon, and in the latter half of the same century vernacular lives of the saints begin to be numerous. Perhaps the most popular of these was the legend of Barlaam and Josaphat, of which the fullest poetical form has been left us by an English trouvère of the thirteenth century named Chardry, by whom we have also a verse rendering of the 'Seven Sleepers,' and some other poems[84]. Somewhat earlier, Hermann of Valenciennes was a fertile author of this sort of work, composing a greatBible de Sapienceor versification of the Old Testament, and a large number of lives of saints. Of books of Eastern origin, one of the most important was theCastoiement d'un Père à son Fils, which comes from thePanchatantra, though not directly. The translated work had great vogue, and set the example of otherCastoiementsor warnings. The monk Helinand at the end of the twelfth century composed a poem on 'Death,' and a vast number of similar poems might be mentioned. The commonest perhaps of all is a dialogueDes trois Morts et des trois Vifs, which exists in an astonishing number of variants. Gradually the tone of all this work becomes more and more allegorical.Dreams, Mirrors, Castles, such as the 'Castle of Seven Flowers,' a poem on the virtues, make their appearance.

Allegorical verse.

The Roman de la Rose.

The question of the origin of this habit of allegorising and personification is one which has been often incidentally discussed by literary historians, but which has never been exhaustively treated. It is certain that, at a very early period in the middle ages, it makes its appearance, though it is not in fullflourishing until the thirteenth century. It seems to have been a reflection in light literature of the same attitude of mind which led to the development of the scholastic philosophy, and, as in the case of that philosophy, Byzantine and Eastern influences may have been at work. Certain it is that in some of the later Greek romances[85], something very like the imagery of theRoman de la Roseis discoverable. Perhaps, however, we need not look further than to the natural result of leisure, mental activity, and literary skill, working upon a very small stock of positive knowledge, and restrained by circumstances within a very narrow range of employment. However this may be, the allegorising habit manifests itself recognisably enough in French literature towards the close of the twelfth century. In theMéraugis de Portlesguezof Raoul de Houdenc, the passion for arguing out abstract questions of lovelore is exemplified, and in theRoman des Elesof the same author the knightly virtues are definitely personified, or at least allegorised. At the same time some at all events of the Troubadours, especially Peire Wilhem, carried the practice yet further.Merci,Pudeur,Loyauté, are introduced by that poet as persons whom he met as he rode on his travels. In Thibaut de Champagne a still further advance was made. The representative poem of this allegorical literature, and moreover one of the most remarkable compositions furnished by the mediaeval period in France, is theRoman de la Rose[86]. It is doubtful whether any other poem of such a length has ever attained a popularity so wide and so enduring. TheRoman de la Roseextends to more than twenty thousand lines, and is written in a very peculiar style; yet it maintained its vogue, not merely in France but throughout Europe, for nearly three hundred years from the date of its commencement, and for more than two hundred from that of its conclusion. The history of the composition of the poem is singular. It was begun by William of Lorris, of whom little or nothing is known, but whose work must, so far as it is easy to make out, have been done before 1240, and is sometimes fixed at 1237. This portion extends to 4670 lines, and ends quite abruptly. About forty years later,Jean de Meung, or Clopinel, afterwards one of Philippe le Bel's paid men of letters, continued it without preface, taking up William of Lorris' cue, and extended it to 22,817 verses, preserving the metre and some of the personages, but entirely altering the spirit of the treatment. The importance of the poem requires that such brief analysis as space will allow shall be given here. Its general import is sufficiently indicated by the heading,—

Ci est le Rommant de la RoseOù l'art d'amors est tote enclose;

though the rage for allegory induced its readers to moralise even its allegorical character, and to indulge in various far-fetched explanations of it. In the twentieth year of his age, the author says, he fell asleep and dreamed a dream. He had left the city on a fair May morning, and walked abroad till he came to a garden fenced in with a high wall. On the wall were portrayed figures, Hatred,Félonnie,Villonie, Covetousness, Avarice, Envy, Sadness, Old Age,Papelardie(Hypocrisy), Poverty—all of which are described at length. He strives to enter in, and at last finds a barred wicket at which he is admitted by Dame Oiseuse (Leisure), who tells him that Déduit (Delight) and his company are within. He finds the company dancing and singing, Dame Liesse (Enjoyment) being the chief songstress, while Courtesy greets him and invites him to take part in the festival. The god of love himself is then described, with many of his suite—Beauty, Riches, etc. A further description of the garden leads to the fountain of Narcissus, whose story is told at length. By this the author, who is thenceforth called the lover, sees and covets a rosebud. But thorns and thistles bar his way to it, and the god of love pierces him with his arrows. He does homage to the god, who accepts his service, and addresses a long discourse to him on his future duties and conduct. The prospect somewhat alarms him, when a new personage, Bel Acueil (Gracious Reception), comes up and tenders his services to the lover, the god having disappeared. Almost immediately, however, Dangier[87]makes his appearance, and drives both the lover and BelAcueil out of the garden. As the former is bewailing his fate, Reason appears and remonstrates with him. He persists in his desire, and parleys with Dangier, both directly and by ambassadors, so that in the end he is brought back by Bel Acueil into the garden and allowed to see but not to touch the rose. Venus comes to his aid, and he is further allowed to kiss it. At this, however, Shame, Jealousy, and other evil agents reproach Dangier. Bel Acueil is immured in a tower, and the lover is once more driven forth.

Here the portion due to William of Lorris ends. Its main characteristics have been indicated by this sketch, except that the extreme beauty and grace of the lavish descriptions which enclose and adorn the somewhat commonplace allegory perforce escape analysis. It is in these descriptions, and in a certain tenderness and elegance of general thought and expression, that the charm of the poem lies, and this is very considerable. The deficiency of action, however, and the continual allegorising threaten to make it monotonous had it been much longer continued in the same strain.

It is unlikely that it was this consideration which determined Jean de Meung to adopt a different style. In his time literature was already agitated by violent social, political, and religious debates, and the treasures of classical learning were becoming more and more commonly known. But prose had not yet become a common literary vehicle, save for history, oratory, and romance, nor had the duty of treating one thing at a time yet impressed itself strongly upon authors. Jean de Meung was satirically disposed, was accomplished in all the learning of his day, and had strong political opinions. He determined accordingly to make the poem of Lorris, which was in all probability already popular, the vehicle of his thoughts.

In doing this he takes up the story as his predecessor had left it, at the point where the lover, deprived of the support of Bel Acueil, and with the suspicions of Dangier thoroughly aroused against him,lies despairing without the walls of the delightful garden. Reason is once more introduced, and protests as before, but in a different tone and much more lengthily. She preaches the disadvantages of love in a speech nearly four hundred lines long, followed by another double the length, and then by a dialogue in which the lover takes his share. The difference of manner is felt at once. The allegory is kept up after a fashion, but instead of the graceful fantasies of William of Lorris, the staple matter is either sharp and satirical views of actual life, or else examples drawn indifferently from sacred and profane history. One speech of Reason's, a thousand lines in length, consists of a collection of instances of this kind showing the mobility of fortune. At length she leaves the lover as she found him, 'melancolieux et dolant,' but unconvinced. Amis (the friend), who has appeared for a moment previously, now reappears, and comforts him, also at great length, dwelling chiefly on the ways of women, concerning which much scandal is talked. The scene with Reason had occupied nearly two thousand lines; that with Amis extends to double that length, so that Jean de Meung had already excelled his predecessor in this respect. Profiting by the counsel he has received, the lover addresses himself to Riches, who guards the way, but fruitlessly. The god of love, however, takes pity on him (slightly ridiculing him for having listened to Reason), and summons all his folk to attack the tower and free Bel Acueil. Among these Faux Semblant presents himself, and, after some parley, is received. This new personification of hypocrisy gives occasion to some of the author's most satirical touches as he describes his principles and practice. After this, Faux Semblant and his companion, Contrainte Astenance (forced or feigned abstinence), set to work in favour of the lover, and soon win their way into the tower. There they find an old woman who acts as Bel Acueil's keeper. She takes a message from them to Bel Acueil, and then engages in a singular conversation with her prisoner, wherein the somewhat loose morality of the discourses of Amis is still further enforced by historical examples, and by paraphrases of not a few passages from Ovid. She afterward admits the lover, who thus, at nearly the sixteen-thousandth line from the beginning, recovers through the help of False Seemingthe 'gracious reception' which is to lead him to the rose. The castle, however, is not taken, and Dangier, with the rest of his allegorical company, makes a stout resistance to 'Les Barons de L'Ost'—the lords of Love's army. The god sends to invoke the aid of his mother, and this introduces a new personage. Nature herself, and her confidant, Genius, are brought on the scene, and nearly five thousand verses serve to convey all manner of thoughts and scraps of learning, mostly devoted to the support, as before, of questionably moral doctrines. In these five thousand lines almost all the current ideas of the middle ages on philosophy and natural science are more or less explicitly contained. Finally, Venus arrives and, with her burning brand, drives out Dangier and his crew, though even at this crisis of the action the writer cannot refrain from telling the story of Pygmalion and the Image at length. The way being clear, the lover proceeds unmolested to gather the longed-for rose.

Popularity of the Roman de la Rose.

It is impossible to exaggerate, and not easy to describe, the popularity which this poem enjoyed. Its attacks on womanhood and on morality generally provoked indeed not a few replies, of which the most important came long afterwards from Christine de Pisan and from Gerson. But the general taste was entirely in favour of it. Allegorical already, it was allegorised in fresh senses, even a religious meaning being given to it. The numerous manuscripts which remain of it attest its popularity before the days of printing. It was frequently printed by the earliest typographers of France, and even in the sixteenth century it received a fresh lease of life at the hands of Marot, who re-edited it. Abroad it was praised by Petrarch and translated by Chaucer[88]; and it is on the whole not too much to say that for fully two centuries it was the favourite book in the vernacular literature of Europe. Nor was it unworthy of this popularity. As has been pointed out, the grace of the part due to William of Lorris is remarkable, and the satirical vigour of the part due to Jean de Meung perhaps more remarkable still. The allegorising and the length which repel readers of to-day did not disgustgenerations whose favourite literary style was the allegorical, and who had abundance of leisure; but the real secret of its vogue, as of all such vogues, is that it faithfully held up the mirror to the later middle ages. In no single book can that period of history be so conveniently studied. Its inherited religion and its nascent free-thought; its thirst for knowledge and its lack of criticism; its sharp social divisions and its indistinct aspirations after liberty and equality; its traditional morality and asceticism, and its half-pagan, half-childish relish for the pleasures of sense; its romance and its coarseness, all its weakness and all its strength, here appear.

Imitations.

The imitations of theRoman de la Rosewere in proportion to its popularity. Much of this imitation took place in other kinds of poetry, which will be noticed hereafter. Two poems, however, which are almost contemporary with its earliest form, and which have only recently been published, deserve mention. One, which is an obvious imitation of Guillaume de Lorris, but an imitation of considerable merit, is theRoman de la Poire[89], where the lover is besieged by Love in a tower. The other, of a different class, and free from trace of direct imitation, is the short poem calledDe Venus la Déesse d'Amors[90], written in some three hundred four-lined stanzas, each with one rhyme only. Some passages of this latter are very beautiful.

Three extracts, two from the first part of theRoman de la Rose, and one from the second, will show its style:—

En iceli tens déliteus,Que tote riens d'amer s'esfroie,Sonjai une nuit que j'estoie,Ce m'iert avis en mon dormant,Qu'il estoit matin durement;De mon lit tantost me levai,Chauçai-moi et mes mains lavai.Lors trais une aguille d'argentD'un aguiller mignot et gent,Si pris l'aguille à enfiler.Hors de vile oi talent d'aler,Por oïr des oisiaus les sonsQui chantoient par ces boissonsEn icele saison novele;Cousant mes manches à videle,M'en alai tot seus esbatant,Et les oiselés escoutant,Qui de chanter moult s'engoissoientPar ces vergiers qui florissoient,Jolis, gais et pleins de léesce.Vers une rivière m'adresceQue j'oï près d'ilecques bruire.Car ne me soi aillors déduirePlus bel que sus cele rivière.D'un tertre qui près d'iluec ièreDescendoit l'iaue grant et roide,Clere, bruiant et aussi froideComme puiz, ou comme fontaine,Et estoit poi mendre de Saine,Mès qu'ele iere plus espandue.Onques mès n'avoie véueTele iaue qui si bien coroit:Moult m'abelissoit et séoitA regarder le leu plaisant.De l'iaue clere et reluisantMon vis rafreschi et lavé.Si vi tot covert et pavéLe fons de l'iaue de gravele;La praérie grant et beleTrès au pié de l'iaue batoit.Clere et serie et bele estoitLa matinée et atemprée:Lors m'en alai parmi la préeContreval l'iaue esbanoiant,Tot le rivage costoiant.* * * * * *Une ymage ot emprès escrite,Qui sembloit bien estre ypocrite,Papelardieert apelée.C'est cele qui en recelée,Quant nus ne s'en puet prendre garde,De nul mal faire ne se tarde.El fait dehors le marmiteus,Si a le vis simple et piteus,Et semble sainte créature;Mais sous ciel n'a male aventureQu'ele ne pense en son corage.Moult la ressembloit bien l'ymageQui faite fu à sa semblance,Qu'el fu de simple contenance;Et si fu chaucie et vestueTout ainsinc cum fame rendue.En sa main un sautier tenoit,Et sachiés que moult se penoitDe faire à Dieu prières faintes,Et d'appeler et sains et saintes.El ne fu gaie ne jolive,Ains fu par semblant ententiveDu tout à bonnes ovres faire;Et si avoit vestu la haire.Et sachiés que n'iere pas grasse.De jeuner sembloit estre lasse,S'avoit la color pale et morte.A li et as siens ert la porteDévéée de Paradis;Car icel gent si font lor visAmegrir, ce dit l'Évangile,Por avoir loz parmi la vile,Et por un poi de gloire vaine,Qui lor toldra Dieu et son raine.* * * * * *Comment le traistre Faulx-SemblantSi va les cueurs des gens emblant,Pour ses vestemens noirs et gris,Et pour son viz pasle amaisgris.'Trop sai bien mes habiz changier,Prendre l'un, et l'autre estrangier.Or sui chevaliers, or sui moines,Or sui prélas, or sui chanoines,Or sui clers, autre ore sui prestres,Or sui desciples, or sui mestres,Or chastelains, or forestiers:Briément, ge sui de tous mestiers.Or resui princes, or sui pages,Or sai parler trestous langages;Autre ore sui viex et chenus,Or resui jones devenus.Or sui Robers, or sui Robins,Or cordeliers, or jacobins.Si pren por sivre ma compaigneQui me solace et acompaigne,(C'est dame Astenance-Contrainte),Autre desguiséure mainte,Si cum il li vient à plesirPor acomplir le sien désir.Autre ore vest robe de fame;Or sui damoisele, or sui dame,Autre ore sui religieuse,Or sui rendue, or sui prieuse,Or sui nonain, or sui abesse,Or sui novice, or sui professe;Et vois par toutes régionsCerchant toutes religions. Mès de religion, sans faille,G'en pren le grain et laiz la paille;Por gens avulger i abit,Ge n'en quier, sans plus, que l'abit.Que vous diroie? en itel guiseCum il me plaist ge me desguise;Moult sunt en moi mué li vers,Moult sunt li faiz aux diz divers.Si fais chéoir dedans mes piégesLe monde par mes priviléges;Ge puis confesser et assoldre,(Ce ne me puet nus prélas toldre,)Toutes gens où que ge les truisse;Ne sai prélat nul qui ce puisse,Fors l'apostole solementQui fist cest establissementTout en la faveur de nostre ordre.'

* * * * * *

Une ymage ot emprès escrite,Qui sembloit bien estre ypocrite,Papelardieert apelée.C'est cele qui en recelée,Quant nus ne s'en puet prendre garde,De nul mal faire ne se tarde.El fait dehors le marmiteus,Si a le vis simple et piteus,Et semble sainte créature;Mais sous ciel n'a male aventureQu'ele ne pense en son corage.Moult la ressembloit bien l'ymageQui faite fu à sa semblance,Qu'el fu de simple contenance;Et si fu chaucie et vestueTout ainsinc cum fame rendue.En sa main un sautier tenoit,Et sachiés que moult se penoitDe faire à Dieu prières faintes,Et d'appeler et sains et saintes.El ne fu gaie ne jolive,Ains fu par semblant ententiveDu tout à bonnes ovres faire;Et si avoit vestu la haire.Et sachiés que n'iere pas grasse.De jeuner sembloit estre lasse,S'avoit la color pale et morte.A li et as siens ert la porteDévéée de Paradis;Car icel gent si font lor visAmegrir, ce dit l'Évangile,Por avoir loz parmi la vile,Et por un poi de gloire vaine,Qui lor toldra Dieu et son raine.

* * * * * *

Comment le traistre Faulx-SemblantSi va les cueurs des gens emblant,Pour ses vestemens noirs et gris,Et pour son viz pasle amaisgris.'Trop sai bien mes habiz changier,Prendre l'un, et l'autre estrangier.Or sui chevaliers, or sui moines,Or sui prélas, or sui chanoines,Or sui clers, autre ore sui prestres,Or sui desciples, or sui mestres,Or chastelains, or forestiers:Briément, ge sui de tous mestiers.Or resui princes, or sui pages,Or sai parler trestous langages;Autre ore sui viex et chenus,Or resui jones devenus.Or sui Robers, or sui Robins,Or cordeliers, or jacobins.Si pren por sivre ma compaigneQui me solace et acompaigne,(C'est dame Astenance-Contrainte),Autre desguiséure mainte,Si cum il li vient à plesirPor acomplir le sien désir.Autre ore vest robe de fame;Or sui damoisele, or sui dame,Autre ore sui religieuse,Or sui rendue, or sui prieuse,Or sui nonain, or sui abesse,Or sui novice, or sui professe;Et vois par toutes régionsCerchant toutes religions. Mès de religion, sans faille,G'en pren le grain et laiz la paille;Por gens avulger i abit,Ge n'en quier, sans plus, que l'abit.Que vous diroie? en itel guiseCum il me plaist ge me desguise;Moult sunt en moi mué li vers,Moult sunt li faiz aux diz divers.Si fais chéoir dedans mes piégesLe monde par mes priviléges;Ge puis confesser et assoldre,(Ce ne me puet nus prélas toldre,)Toutes gens où que ge les truisse;Ne sai prélat nul qui ce puisse,Fors l'apostole solementQui fist cest establissementTout en la faveur de nostre ordre.'

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