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English Pages 192 [246] Year 2014
Guy of Warwick
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Guy of W arwick A K night of Britain who in his dag did mang deeds of prowess and conquest in G ermany, Italy, and D enmark. A nd also against the Infidels, the enemies of Christianity. A s may he seen more at large in this present book newly printed at paris in the year 1525. T ranslated by Caroline Clive in 1821, and, from a unique manuscript then prepared by her M eysey family, now first edited by
U niversity of Te xa s P ress, Austin & L ondon
Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 66-15704 Copyright © 1968 by William B. Todd All Rights Reserved Manufactured in the United States of America Printed by The University of Texas Printing Division, Austin Bound by Universal Bookbindery, Inc., San Antonio
In Memoriam John Fitzgerald Kennedy
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THE EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION
Among all the great chivalric heroes once cele brated in early romance, three only are now enshrined in the British Dictionary of National Biography: Arthur of Camelot, victor over the Saxons; Richard I or "Coeur-de-Lion,” con queror of the Saracens; and Guy of Warwick, a knight best known, if at all, in Drayton’s accolade, "Hercules of England.” Of King Arthur and his Round Table we are still re minded in varying accents of constant appeal— in the wondrous version Malory first drew out of old "Frensshe bookes,” in the sonorous poems of Spenser and, later, of Tennyson and Swinburne, then again in Wagner’s operatic Lohengrin, Parsifal, and Tristan und Isolde. Even the lowly ravens, as Don Quixote recalled, are ever-present memorials, since Arthur was turned into one. Great Britain will endure then, as guards at the Tower now inform us, only so long as the ravens live. Against all these testimonies large and small to Arthur there is, admittedly, little contempor ary evidence of King Richard, even less of Sir Guy. Yet, if judged by the number of surviving manuscripts, the tale now least often told was once most highly esteemed. For Arthur there exists a single medieval script (and that dis covered as recently as 1934), for Richard as many as seven, for Guy no less than twenty-one. To this count may be added various allusions, and as many entries in the catalogues of noble libraries, all indicating that, before these ro mances were reduced to print, and to the vulgar tongue of later time, Guy was avidly perused in Anglo-Norman courtly circles. Our Crusader-hero was long remembered even in far-off
Jerusalem, where in 1410, according to Dugdale, a supposed descendant was received with great acclaim. Granted all these early manifes tations, how may we explain the present dimin ution of Guy and, leaving Richard aside, the continual exaltation of Arthur? Perhaps there are several explanations, all in Arthur’s favor. Given a worthy subject the first requisite is that some early genius, after his own reading of the manuscripts, then abridge these unending tales, refine away their dross, and with pure metal fashion an enduring legend whole, complete and, whatever its length, all compact. For Arthur that genius was found in Sir Thomas Malory, a knight as it happens also from Warwickshire, but one quite unconcerned with the great exploits then related of a local celebrity. Malory was intent upon ancient times and places and, in the aura which such distance makes enchanting, was able to create from olden days that marvellous kingdom to which we all still owe allegiance. For Guy, on the other hand, if there was any such interpreter he was soon stifled, his version left unread, and the story itself thus allowed to degenerate in the clumsy hands of English versifiers, chap men, and other drab purveyors. As a thing of shreds and patches Guy down to the nineteenth century continued to enjoy an extraordinary vogue, surpassing indeed all others,1 but one which posterity could never accept. Another requirement or, rather, a very con siderable advantage, is that the matter be of 1 R. S. Crane, "The Vogue of Guy of Warwick from the Close of the Middle Ages to the Romantic Revival;' PMLA, xxx (1 9 1 5 ), 125-194.
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such complexity as to excite the widest range of emotions. A knight, after all, has only one way of winning the lady fair, or of advancing his own honor, and that by demonstrated prowess in battle. The demonstration can be varied, somewhat, by increasing the number of antagonists, or by substituting dragons and other monsters; but even then the ways of hack ing down the foe are severely limited. Further variation is possible by introducing other ladies of more or less discretion, and in their service more knights, all of whom, if aided occasion ally with the magic of a Merlin, can then per form even more spectacular feats, both roman tic and bellicose. The celtic King, already far removed from the dull demands of reality, and already surrounded at his Round Table with 140 knights, thus was susceptible, in Malory’s treatment, to the greatest complica tion, to a very Arthuriad. 'Tor herein may be seen,” as Malory’s first printer observed, "noble chyualrye, Curtosye, Humanyte, frendlyness, hardynesse, loue, frendshyp, Cowardyse, Murdre, hate, vertue, and synne. Doo after the good,” he then exhorts his readers, "and leue the euyl, and it shal brynge you to good fame and renommee.” Such felicitous advice was not well received by Roger Ascham, Queen Eliza beth’s tutor, who was much offended by all the "synne” — beginning at once, we remember, in the unseemly way Uther Pendragon, with Mer lin’s assistance, begat Arthur upon Igrayne— but this story was never intended for readers with delicate sensibilities. With Guy Ascham and associates would have been better pleased, for here appears only a single hero, a stolid Saxon apparently, one sorely tempted almost beyond endurance yet, when so reminded by lesser magic, ever stead fast in his concept of love and honor. His ex ploits can be varied too, but, within the confine ments of singularity, only in the limited man ner just prescribed. Principally the method in Guy is to let the heroine, Felicia, demand ever
more. At first she wishes her knight to seek only the usual fame and honor (Chapters 1 18) ; then, upon his return with this much achieved, she orders him to become the "best knight in the world”— a task requiring the most enormous accomplishments, all consum mated, rightly enough, again on English soil, where he slays a dragon ( 19- 46 ). With all that attained Guy then, after forty days of bliss ( 47- 48 ), suffers the pangs of remorse for these his many misdeeds, these very acts which brought him honor, and wanders off a pilgrim with continued "prayers and orisons” to expiate his sins, proper expiation here culminating in the slaying of a Saracen ( 49- 57). Returning once more, now just in time to decapitate the Danish giant Collebrand (58-6 0), he retires to Warwick, there unrecognized to a hermit age, where he dies in the arms of his beloved, now also much given to saintly deeds (6 1-6 3 ) . Phase by phase all this is susceptible to compli cation but, in the absence of other lords and ladies, or in their removal to minor roles, only by accretion of detail. How the Guy story may be enlarged, to good effect, will concern us later. How it stands now, in relation to Arthur, is a question not readily debated; for the two, though of the same genre, and emerging both out of Anglo-Norman legend, are quite disparate. Arthur with all his knights remains par excellence the "matter of Britain,” comparable only to similar romantic cycles: of Charlemagne, Roland, Oliver, and others for the matter of France, and of the many Trojan heroes for the matter of Rome the Great. Guy, in a noncyclic or "linear” tradi tion, still is unchallenged among native English heroes of lesser renown. Among these we know something of Richard, though more from his tory than romance; but what now of Athelstan, Beves of Hampton, Fulk Fitz-Warine, Gamelyn, Havelock the Dane, King Horn, Horn Childe, or Raimbron the son of Guy ? All these are nonentities to the present reader, all oft-told
ix tales now unrecalled because they are unrelated to any larger complex. Yet various adventures of Gawain and the Green Knight, uncollected by Malory, are still remembered since Gawain was of Arthur’s court, and thus of some greater association. Separate and apart, Guy cannot do alone, even as a "Hercules,” all that the knights of the Round Table do together. Still another and more exacting requisite is that these unstable tales soon evolve, in their most perfect form, to a fixed and inalterable state readily transmitted to later times. Now almost alone among all British romances both Arthur and Guy, each in its best rendition, quickly attained a permanent form in print, the Malory version in Caxton’s issue of 31 July 1485, the other account in Regnault’s edition of 7 March 1525. Fortunately the Arthur was in English, now the established language of all Britain, and so in its most readable state went through six editions still extant in a hundred years, and countless others thereafter. Most un fortunately the Guy remained in French, a tongue then little different from Anglo-Norman, earlier lingua franca of the Crusaders, but now completely foreign both to the subject, a knight of Britain, and to those who would later read of this matter. Hence the Regnault edition was alienated and passed, still untrans lated, to one other only: an undated issue which cannot be located. Till now our "Hercules of England” thus remains only as a stranger in another country, and one practically unnoticed in his native land. In 1821, however, someone did take notice — indeed another attendant maiden. This latterday heroine, named Caroline Clive, demanded nothing less than Guy’s constant presence and, to secure that forever, completed a translation then huddled away, from daughter to daughter, through succeeding generations. Of these re markable ladies more will be said after their work is presented. With their unique manu script before us our responsibility here must
be, first to the unknown French redactor, then to his text. The original editor, writing in the fifteenth century, immediately betrays his nationality at the beginning of the text proper where, along with more familiar references, he garbles one into "Wringchim,” a locale which cannot be identified among English place names. Then he refers to "Warlingford,” so always in his French, so always in Caroline Clive’s precise transcript, but never so in any English record. Then again in his prologue he writes as an envious foreigner, here looking from some dis tance upon Englishmen as ‘Very much stronger and more powerful in their limbs than those of neighbouring lands.” Much later, at the end of Chapter 46, he intimates that he has never been to Warwick, and must therefore rely upon "the report of some persons who have been there.” In accounts of his own country, how ever, the editor is quite exact. Where in other versions Guy simply travels from Warwick to Rouen, in this he proceeds via “ the harbour of Harfleur, which is upon the course of the River Seine” — and, we may add, the most direct approach to his destination. Once at Rouen the hero then sallies out to his first tournament, we know not where in the other tales, in Flanders according to this. The prologue, entirely the prose editor’s in vention, further exhibits his determination to particularize all generalities. In the other, poetic accounts, all beginning somewhere in limbo as a tale which "should be told,” we must read on, through the equivalent of nineteen chapters, to ascertain that the adventures here related take place in the reign of Athelstan. In this we are immediately apprised of that era and, in the same sentence, given an exact date, a .d . 424. Now if we are pedantically inclined it may be argued that the date is inconsistent with all the other allusions here introduced: Athelstan and the legendary Guy are of the tenth century; the Barons War of the thirteenth; Arthur,
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supposedly in an earlier age, of the fifth, the very time of this story. Such anachronisms must be discounted by readers of romance. All that really matters here is verisimilitude, an artistic truth in which the present editor excells every other. Once again, in the text, we perceive the editor engaged, where necessary, in reducing vague prolixity to more certain fact or, at least, to more entertaining commentary. Among the references available to him, here designated as a-d,2 he must have been horrified at the repre sentation of Felicia, the heroine, as a formid able polymath, competent in all things, includ ing even the seven medieval arts. On this last accomplishment— a very unappealing feature to any modern reader—the other editors insen sitively expatiate in ever-increasing measure: (a) Curteise ert e enseigné, De tuz arz ert enletré; Ses meistres esteient venuz De Tulette, tuz blancs chanuz, Ki l’aperneient d’astronomie, D ’arismatike, de jeometrie; Mult par ert fere de corage. (63-69) (b) Wyse sche was and curtes of mowthe, All the vii arse sche cowthe. Sche had maysturs at hur honde, The wysest men of that londe, And taght hur astronomye, Arsmetryck and gemetrye. 2 Of the four medieval verse texts now edited, the first is in French, the other three in English: (a) British Museum Add. MS. 38662, ed. Alfred Ewert, Gui de Warewic, Paris, 1932-1933, 2 vols.; (b ) Cambridge Univ. MS, Ff 2.38, ed. Julius Zupitza, E.E.T.S. extra series 25-27, London, 1875-1877; (c, d) parallel texts, Auchinleck MS and Caius MS 107, ed. Julius Zupitza, E.E.T.S. extra series, 42, 49, 54, London, 1883-1891. Manuscript b, though desig nated by Zupitza as of a second version, later tran scribed than c or d, derives from a text which is of an earlier state approximating the French a. Text a in turn descends from an unknown manuscript first composed, Professor Ewert suggests, at the Abbey of Osenay, Oxfordshire, ca. 1232-1242.
That mayde was of grete prys, For sche was bothe warre and wyse. (63-70) (d) She was therto curteys and free ywys, And in the .vii. artes well lerned, withoute mys. All the .vii. artis she kouthe well, Noon better that euere man herde tell. Hir maisters were thider come Oute of Tholouse all and some; White and hoore all they were, Bisy they were that mayden to lere; And they hir lerned of astronomye, Of Ars-meotrik, and of geometrye. Of Sophestrie she was also witty, Of Rethoric, and of other clergye; Lerned she was in musyke; Of clergie was hir noon like. She was a woman of grete corage, Wise and faire and of gaye parage. (78-94) To counter all this inane elaboration our editor simply reports that Felicia "was full of all pious manners and knowledge to be taught to all ladies.” Of course, as he concedes, "many au thors . . . have exerted themselves” to much greater lengths; but "for the sake of brevity” he is content to observe, finally, that "she was very perfect in beauty, sense and gracious demeanour.” So idealized, Felicia then becomes, not the proud princess of earlier legends, but a gentle damsel more charitably disposed to Guy. For Guy himself our editor is equally solic itous. Other accounts ramble on, when he is first introduced, the earliest mentioning un numbered maidens swooning in his presence (¿z), others assessing the female count at thirty ( b, c), another insisting that it was "moo than thirty” (d ) . Throughout in these versions there is similar exaggeration, all designed to mag nify Guy’s importance and, at times, reaching preposterous dimensions. When Guy dies we are variously informed that St. Michael’s white dove carried his soul to heaven ( b ) , that Michael himself carried it away (d ), that
XI angels hovered about (a), and (c) that the angels numbered exactly, 1,007 ! Then we are told that thirty knights (b) or, better yet, that one hundred men (a, c) were unable to lift his body. All this crude numerology the editor prunes away as intolerable stuff for later readers. Apart from this judicious trimming we should single out, lastly, several instances of the editor’s continual effort to enlarge, in more significant ways, the dignity of his characters, and thereby develop the role they play in the story. No wonder Felicia, in the other tales, had only contempt at first for Guy; his father was merely a "styward” to hers. Here she is more amenable, partly because she is now in clined that way, as already noted, partly be cause the father now is of some consequence: "a very sage and valiant knight, . . . Lord of Wallingford3 upon Thames,” much "renowned for high prowess” and espoused to "a very beautiful and gracious lady of high lineage, daughter of the Earl of Lancaster.” Guy’s com panion, Herolt Dardenne, is similarly en nobled as "a wise and valiant knight,” and thus enabled to perform a tender service un mentioned in other accounts. Elsewhere a boor ish Guy, with no one able to act for him, and without any credentials himself, at once insults the lady, who then, quite rightly, threatens to have his head cut off. Not very admirable this, and not very conducive to later adventures. Here, to the contrary, a bashful suitor asks his esteemed friend and "governor” to intercede; 3 "Warlingford” and other corruptions are silently amended in this edition if the correct spelling is known.
and through Herolt’s delicate mediation, and much fine language all around, everything is brought to a gentle compact: Felicia’s "gra cious kiss” as an "assurance of love.” And so on Trinity Sunday young Guy is exalted to knighthood, the necessary condition for dem onstrating noble prowess. To authenticate these many embellishments the editor, like his contemporary Malory, fre quently alludes to various sources real or im agined, only one of which is specifically identi fied: "the true history and right chronicles of [Guy] which are in the Abbey of Glaston bury.” Thus again the redactor, this second Malory, gracefully evokes, without mentioning a name, the spirit of Arthur; for in these hal lowed precincts, we recall, lies the grave of that magnificent king and of his queen, Guinevere. Whether Glastonbury ever possessed any such history is quite immaterial and beyond dis covery; the first great abbey was destroyed by fire in 1184, long before our editor was born and, a century after his writing, in 1539, the second one finally was dissolved by Henry VIII. Other than the rudimentary poetic versions, no "true history” of Guy is known to exist, and none is needed to verify the greater truth of ancient romance, here so well conveyed. The edition now presented, though essen tially the work of Caroline Clive, has been modernized according to principles set forth in the epilogue. What the translator has prepared, at a time very near our own, is best made com pletely ours, so that, without any further hin drance, Guy of Warwick may at last come im mediately before the reader. W
il l ia m
B. T odd
NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS
The ornamental sections derive orig inally from the title-page illustration to Ranulphus Higden’s Polychronicon, printed by Peter Treveris in Southwark, 1527. In the upper segment, originally displaying the arms of the Tudor monarchs and the city of London, two others more appropriate to this story have now been substituted: 1. Arms of the Early Warwicks: A Bear erect, argent, muzzled gules, supporting a ragged staff of the first. This ensign was created in two stages, (a) by Arthgal— signifying bear in the British language— the earliest consul of Warwick, temp King Arthur and a knight of his Round Table, (b) by Morvi, second consul who vanquished a giant with a tree plucked up by the roots. The cognizance was later assumed, presumably, by the third British consul, Marthrud, and then by the first two Saxon Earls who appear in this romance, Roalt and Guy. Much later, on November 13, 1759, Francis Greville, first Earl Warwick of the present lineage, ob tained a special grant to bear the crest of this ancient, and essentially mythical regime. 2. Arms of the Meysey family: Argent a fesse between three cinqfoils sable. To the ladies of this family readers are now indebted for translating, literally into English, this most extensive version of Guy, hitherto secluded in early French. Jack et.
On the pages immediately fol lowing are represented the titles of the original French edition 1525 and the English manu script copy of 1821. It will be noted that the Meysey ladies chose not to dignify their script cum privilegio. Their act, as noted later (pp. 16 7 -16 8 ), was simply con amove. T i t l e Pa g e s .
All woodcuts are reproduced (the first two much reduced, the others in original size) from the French edition, and all entered in proper position or as near that position as present typography allows. Besides these, the layout at times requires, in different sizes, two tailpieces, here properly chosen from the stand ards of the Crusaders :
T ext.
1. Arms of the Knights Templars: Argent a cross gules and a chief sable. First illustrated on page 6. 2. Arms of the Knights Hospitallers: Gules a cross argent. First illustrated on page 1 1 . Apart from these the editor has chosen to display (pp. 38-39) (a) the page from the French edition concluding Chapter 19 and be ginning Chapter 20, (b) the page from the English manuscript introducing Chapter 20. That chapter, in the present edition, begins on page 40 .
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jCumptulcgio* TITLE PAGE OF THE FRENCH EDITION, 1 5 2 5 .
TITLE PAGE OF TH E ENGLISH MANUSCRIPT, 1 8 2 1.
THE TABLE
Here begins the Table to the Present Book. And first: The Editor’s Introduction......................vii The Author’s Prologue........................... 1 . How Earl Roalt had a fair daughter named Felicia, surpassing in beauty all other dames and damsels, and sent for Guyonet the son of his seneschal to live at his court ...........................................
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2. How Earl Roalt conducted Guyonet to his daughter Felicia and gave him to her for a page, recommending him above all other lords ...........................................
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3. How Guyonet began to love his mis tress Felicia, and returned to his chamber after having served her at table, making complaints and lamentations . . . .
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4. How Guyonet, looking towards the tower where the fair Felicia was, began to weep afresh inasmuch that he fainted and fell upon his bed like one who is dead; and how Herolt Dardenne, his head governor, blamed him for not hav ing been in waiting upon his mistress .
8 5. How Guy was constrained to tell his governor the sorrow which pressed upon his h e a r t ................................................ 12 6. How Herolt informed the fair Felicia that Guy was so transported with love of her that he was in danger of death, at which she was much displeased . . . 14 7. How Felicia desired Guyonet’s gover nor to cause him to speak to her when he should be recovered from his illness . . 8. How Guyonet went to Felicia upon the recital of his governor and discovered his love to h e r........................................... 17 9. How Guy was more grieved than be fore, on account of the refusal of the fair Felicia, and went to the garden where the
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said Felicia saw him faint and sent him her cousin to console h im ......................19 1 0. How Felicia placed Guy in her lap to make him recover from his fainting, consoling him and telling him that he must be a knight to acquire fame and renow n......................................................21 1 1 . How Guy was made a knight and returned to the fair Felicia, who told him that, since he had received the order of knighthood, he must follow after merit and feats of arms to possess and acquire p raise........................................... 23 1 2 . How Guy begged leave of the Earl, the father of Felicia, and of his own father, Sequart, to go beyond sea in order to acquire fame and honour . . . . 24 1 3 . How Guy as he was at the window, and saw lances and arms pass through the streets, asked his host of Rouen what these things meant; by which means he was told of the tournament which was to be held without the city......................26 1 4 . How Guy looked on at the tilting matches and afterwards fought against Gaher, the son of the Emperor, and beat him to the ground twice, and at last mounted his horse in spite of all his e n e m i e s ................................................ 28 1 5 . How Herolt overthrew the Duke of Moraine and the Count Valdemar; and how also Guy obtained the highest praise from the Emperor’s daughter, and more over wounded Duke Othes through the body, and overthrew Duke Reiner of C esso ig n e................................................ 30 1 6. How Blanchefleur, daughter of the Emperor, decided among her ladies that the knight with the shield paled or and azure tilted better and did more than all the others . . . . . . . . . . 31
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17. How the messenger of Blanchefleur brought the f alcon to Guy which she sent him, with the other presents, telling him that she greatly desired to see him . . 18. How Guy sent two servants into England to take the presents which Blanchefleur had made him, that is to say, the falcon to his lady Felicia, and to Earl Roalt the palfrey and the two grey hounds ....................................................... 19. How Guy, after he had been in Nor mandy, returned into England and was joyfully received by Earl Roalt and by his daughter F e licia ....................................... 20. How Guy, by the desire of Felicia, took leave of the Earl to go upon his adventures, and how she gave him an enchanted r i n g ......................................
Pavia and pursued him to the army of the E m p ero r............................................
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28. How the Emperor caused the Duke of Lorraines city to be assaulted, and how the son of the Emperor and others were taken prisoner by Sir Guy, and how the Germans lost the battle......................
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29. How the Emperor pardoned Duke Segum when he placed himself at his mercy by means of Guy and other princes
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30. How Duke Reiner married the sister of Duke Segum, and Sir Guy in the town of Constantinople assisted the Emperor against the Turks and pagans . . . .
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31. How Guy killed the Saracen ad miral, and Herolt his governor the King of Turkey; and how Sir Guy also slew Esclandart, who was a very good and valiant S a r a c e n .......................................
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32. How the Seneschal of the Emperor of Constantinople was envious of Sir Guy, and told the said Emperor that Guy was with his daughter Lauretta . . .
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33. How the Christians behaved very well against the pagans and so did also Herolt and Sir Guy, who through his subtlety advised rolling carriage wheels from the top of the mountains upon the Saracens ..................................................
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34. How Sir Guy went into the tent of the Sultan and cut off his head, then made his way through the army, in spite of all the S a ra ce n s.................................
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35. How Guy, being rescued from death by his companions, carried the head of the Sultan to the Emperor of Con stantinople, who desired to give him his daughter Lauretta in marriage . . . .
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36. How Guy was near marrying the Daughter of the Emperor of Constanti nople when by chance he looked at the ring which the fair Felicia had given him, at which he was very much grieved and displeased, and how the Seneschal killed his lio n ............................................
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21. How Guy came into little Brittany, where he gained honour in various ad ventures and cut off the head of a wicked and cruel tyrant who was of small stat ure, and then went into Spain as a knight errant to acquire fame and renown . .
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22. How Guy, although much wounded, killed a fierce and cruel Lombard, and another Lombard killed Athosry, the companion of G u y .................................
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23. How Guy fought marvellously well against the Lombards, slew and made them fly, and then regretted his compan ions, who had died in the battle . . . 24. How Guy left the hermit and came to the good Duke Reiner and there found his master Herolt Dardenne . . . .
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25. How Guy deliberated whether he should go to the assistance of the Duke of Lorraine, and took the seneschal of the Emperor prisoner, and finally dis comfited the G e rm a n s............................
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26. How the Duke came to see Sir Guy in his house and offered him all his pos sessions, and afterwards how Duke Othes still conspired against the noble Guyonet
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27. How Sir Guy with the Duke above mentioned defeated Duke Othes of
37. How Guy slew the Seneschal of the
xvii Emperor because he had slain his lion, and afterwards departed from the court of the said Emperor and met with Thiery, who was in grief and affliction and who related to him all his history . . . . 38. How Guy rescued Thiery from the enemies who were carrying him away and gave him to the doctors to dress his wounds, and went in search of the lady whom the said Thiery loved so much and l o s t ........................................................ 39. How Thiery went to the succour of his father, and Guy with him, both per forming deeds of high prowess against the Duke of Lorraine and gained the v ic to ry ....................................................... 40. How the Duke of Pavia escaped from Sir Guy and advised the Duke of Lohier to betray Thiery and his father and to give him the body of Guy to do what he pleased w i t h ............................ 41. How the Duke of Pavia treacher ously desired to kiss Guy and took Thiery and Herolt Dardenne prisoners, and of Sir Guy’s great feats of arms . . . . 42. How Guy disguised himself and went to seek for Thiery in the custody of Duke Othes of Pavia and delivered him through his prowess and subtlety . . . 43. How Thiery was received at the castle of the Mountain, and how Sir Guy slew Duke Othes and carried off the maiden whom the false duke was going to m a r r y .................................................
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44. How Guy and Thiery did five feats of arms in Lorraine, and how Thiery married Oyselle, the daughter of the Duke of Lorraine, in the town of Metz .
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45. How Guy, after killing the son of the Count Florent in the forest, did other fine deeds against the knights of the said F lo re n t.......................................................
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46. How Guy left Thiery and began his journey towards his own country and came into England to the Court of the
King who received him honourably. And how he slew a dragon which was wasting every thing and carried its head to the K i n g ....................................................... 47. How Sir Guy took possession of his father’s lands and afterwards related to the fair Felicia all his adventures . . .
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48. How Guy married Felicia and left her with great regret to go and do pen ance, at which she was much grieved . .
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49. How Guy went to Jerusalem and visited all the holy places, as God in spired him, and was sought for by Herolt his governor, and other things worthy of record which he did against the infidels .
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50. How Guy fought valiantly against the great Saracen Amorant in King Triamor’s quarrel, and gave him leave to d r i n k .......................................................
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51. How Guy drank in spite of Amor ant, and at last cut off his head, which he presented to King Triamor . . . .
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52. How Felicia was brought to bed of a fine child, named Raimbron, who was afterwards stolen by sea merchants and sold to King A rgus.................................
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53. How Herolt Dardenne gave counsel to King Athelstan of England, and was accused of treason by Mordred, Duke of Cornwall, and how he went in search of the son of Sir G u y .................................
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54. How Herolt’s Seneschal transfixed the body of the Duke of Cornwall with his lance, and obliged him to raise the seige before the town he had beseiged; and then how Thiery and Guy met with out knowing each other............................
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55. How Sir Guy was much grieved when he heard that his son Raimbron had been stolen, and caused Thiery to sleep on his lap; and the vision of the said Thiery while he slept, and the trea sure which they found in the mountain .
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56. How Guy and Duke Besart jousted together, and concerning the treason of Duke Besart and his four nephews, who
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by night threw Guy in his bed into the sea, where he was found by a mariner . 57. How Guy slew Duke Besart, through his prowess, and conducted Thiery into the presence of the Emperor, who re placed him in higher estate than he had held b e f o r e ................................. . . 58. How Thiery and Guy knew each other after the said Thiery had found his wife, who had hid herself in an abbey of nuns for fear of Duke Besart. . . .
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and cut off his head and presented it to the King of England, then made him self known to h i m ................................. 6 1. How Guy ate and drank in his wife the Countess’s room, without her know ing him, because he was dressed as a poor m a n ..................................................
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62. How Sir Guy went into the forest and sent by a servant of his to his wife, the Countess, to come and see him . .
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59. How the King of England, fearing the arrival of the infidel kings, mourned the loss of Guy and Herolt, and prayed Sir Guy to fight the fierce African Colleb r a n d ....................................................... 159
63. How the Countess saw Guy, who was giving up his soul to God the Cre ator, at which she fainted and afterwards she died and was buried with him . . .
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The Editor’s E p ilo g u e ............................
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60. How Guy fought with Collebrand
The In d ex ..................................................
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(5ua of Wartflick
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t e e begins the Author’s prologue
THE TIME OF KlNG ATHELSTAN, A
£ 1 prince of noble memory reigning in sovereign power in the kingdom of England, after the year of the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ 424, the said kingdom of England was above all other kingdoms the fountain and mirror of all prowess in chivalry through the merit of the valiant and perfect knights who dwelt there, whose fame was spread through out all the world. And this to such a degree that, not only in the time of Athelstan, but before him in the days of the very good King Arthur, no one of foreign countries considered himself a perfect knight if he had not been in the said kingdom of England to prove and acquaint himself with good knights who dwelt there. And that the reason of this may appear, it seems to me that great wonders of arms and prowess should naturally be found there, more than in any other region, for several reasons, and first because it is the country of all under heaven which has been always and of old time renowned for being full of great and marvelous adventures. Wherefore and for which cause in all times, according to ancient histories, it has been called by strangers the Land of Adventure. Another reason is that the people born in this country are generally of large stature, very much stronger and more powerful in their
limbs than those of neighbouring lands. And they can endure and suffer more from their conduct, being always reasonable, and from being naturally desirous of and inclined to feats of arms. The proof of this is clear, inasmuch as not only the nobles but the commons in general are people of great achievements and skilled in the science of attack and defence, and of hardy enterprise, as is proved by the victories which they have obtained with great ease in several places in divers battles in the kingdoms of France and Spain, Scotland and several other countries and regions of which the truth may be easily ascertained. Still further, there may be another reason. In times past there was a war in the said country of England which was called the War of the Barons, and which was conducted with great courtesy, for whoever was taken in battle or single encounter was released for very little ransom. And this occasioned everyone to hazard himself very willingly for the acquisition of honour. And also for the above said reasons these people were, and had reason to be, better instructed and learned in war than those of other regions who concerned themselves but little about it. Another very especial reason which should be thought of, and kept in memory, is that above all other lands God has been pleased to place so many fair and excellent virtues in the ladies of this country, such as surpassing beauty, gracious demeanour, fair conduct, honour and courtesy, so that to acquire their favour every one has been at all times anxious to labour in honour and surpass his ancestors in prowess and possess their honourable acquaintance. And the ladies were of such honourable dispositions that they would not bestow either their love or their dowry to any except a knight, and unless he was so renowned in prowess and good con duct that by reason of his well doing they could speak of his acquaintance in an advantageous manner. And for this virtue and honour, which
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the kingdom, and maintained himself very richly and in fine appointment of servants of his household and all other appurtenances above everyone else. He also loved and valued the noble name of chivalry, and delighted very greatly in seeing and honouring all good knights, and was of great service to them, as one who had been and still was a very good knight with his hand. This baron had no children except one only * END OF THE PROLOGUE daughter named Felicia, but in beauty, sense and gracious presence she surpassed all the damsels of the age who were anywhere known. And such great reports were spread abroad con cerning her that she was esteemed the fairest in the world, and for her beauty and gentle manner she was much desired by several great barons, and many prayers and requests were made to her father for her, and often did he touch upon the subject to her. But she, as a maid of tender years, understood but little of such affairs, and was full of all pious manners and knowledge proper to be taught to all ladies. And although many authors before this time have exerted themselves very much to describe her great beauties, nevertheless, and for the sake of brevity, I will say nothing about these except that, according to what I have read and the report of their writings, she was very per fect in beauty, sense and gracious demeanour. Earl Roalt, her father, in this same time had a seneschal governor of himself and all his estates, a very sage and valiant knight, and of great power, who was named Sequart, and was Lord of Wallingford upon Thames and of all the country round it and much renowned for high prowess. And on his account was the said URING THE HONOURABLE TIME AND Earl Roalt more feared and redoubted than for reign of the aforesaid King Athelall the rest of his power. This Sequart had stan there lived in the kingdom of espoused a very beautiful and gracious lady of England a very powerful baron named Roalt high lineage, daughter of the Earl of Lancaster, who had held the lordship of the county of by whom he had a son, so fine a creature that Warwick and of Evenford and Wringchim, it would be impossible to find under heaven a and of several other baronies. He was a great and powerful baron, among the greatest of more beautiful child. And so well mannered tended to produce so much good, the ladies deserve, according to my opinion, to be now and forever thanked, honoured and valued above all other ladies of other regions. At the same time I say this without depreciating any, but only because every heart of free condition is bound to praise and value this virtue and gracious demeanour in all noble hearts present and to come.
fioto £arl Uoalt had a fair daughter named ielicia, surpassing in beautg ail other dames and damsels, and sent for (Sugonet the son of his seneschal to Itoe at his court
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|f Guy of Warwick
the kingdom, and maintained himself very richly and in fine appointment of servants of his household and all other appurtenances above everyone else. He also loved and valued the noble name of chivalry, and delighted very greatly in seeing and honouring all good knights, and was of great service to them, as one who had been and still was a very good knight with his hand. This baron had no children except one only * END OF THE PROLOGUE daughter named Felicia, but in beauty, sense and gracious presence she surpassed all the damsels of the age who were anywhere known. And such great reports were spread abroad con cerning her that she was esteemed the fairest in the world, and for her beauty and gentle manner she was much desired by several great barons, and many prayers and requests were made to her father for her, and often did he touch upon the subject to her. But she, as a maid of tender years, understood but little of such affairs, and was full of all pious manners and knowledge proper to be taught to all ladies. And although many authors before this time have exerted themselves very much to describe her great beauties, nevertheless, and for the sake of brevity, I will say nothing about these except that, according to what I have read and the report of their writings, she was very per fect in beauty, sense and gracious demeanour. Earl Roalt, her father, in this same time had a seneschal governor of himself and all his estates, a very sage and valiant knight, and of great power, who was named Sequart, and was Lord of Wallingford upon Thames and of all the country round it and much renowned for high prowess. And on his account was the said URING THE HONOURABLE TIME AND Earl Roalt more feared and redoubted than for reign of the aforesaid King Athelall the rest of his power. This Sequart had stan there lived in the kingdom of espoused a very beautiful and gracious lady of England a very powerful baron named Roalt high lineage, daughter of the Earl of Lancaster, who had held the lordship of the county of by whom he had a son, so fine a creature that Warwick and of Evenford and Wringchim, it would be impossible to find under heaven a and of several other baronies. He was a great and powerful baron, among the greatest of more beautiful child. And so well mannered tended to produce so much good, the ladies deserve, according to my opinion, to be now and forever thanked, honoured and valued above all other ladies of other regions. At the same time I say this without depreciating any, but only because every heart of free condition is bound to praise and value this virtue and gracious demeanour in all noble hearts present and to come.
fioto £arl Uoalt had a fair daughter named ielicia, surpassing in beautg ail other dames and damsels, and sent for (Sugonet the son of his seneschal to Itoe at his court
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5
was he by nature and full of all good qualities that all the world took delight in him, and his name was Guyonet. As soon as he was come to the age of ten years, Earl Roalt, who had heard much said of him as of a child well taught, desired so greatly to see him and said so much concerning it that his father sent for him. And he was retained with the said Earl, who took him so much into favour that he made of him his principal page, and in the presence of all, Guyonet served him with the cup at the time of eating, and every night he slept in his room by especial favour. Guyonet had one with him who had gov erned him from his childhood, named Herolt Dardenne, a wise and valiant knight This per son had taught him and introduced him to all proper accomplishments which are fitting for a gentleman to know, inasmuch that it would have been difficult to find any one of his age who could surpass him in sense, courtesy and gracious demeanour, and Guyonet was full of such abundant generosity that he gave and dis tributed all he possessed to poor gentlemen and poor servitors whom he saw in distress. And he had more pleasure in giving than others have in receiving, from which he acquired such repu tation that everyone spoke well of him. And as giving largely and handsomely is a virtue which will be always greatly praised in every noble heart, and especially in princes, others have formerly said and I repeat it that in holding the contrary opinion much peril may ensue to those who wish to attain to high emprise. This Guyonet considered no riches in comparison with a good name, and his father was very joy ful on account o f his great generosity and courtesy, and so was also the good Earl Roalt, his lord. And the Earl often made him the bearer of his largesse to fulfill the wish of his amiable heart. And when anyone spoke of Guyonet, saying that he did more than belonged to his condi tion, and that he was of too prodigal a nature,
the good Earl replied, 'Hold your peace. Certes, if ever I have seen good prognostics in a child, Guyonet surpasses all whom I have at any time known of his age, and I believe that his good habits and his grand generosity will exalt him in future to something very great/ Such words and others did the Earl say of the child, as one who loved him as if he had been his own son. Greatly did Guyonet grow and improve in a little time, inasmuch that he surpassed all others of his age in every virtue, as the moon excells all the other stars in lustre, and he was dis tinguished among his peers for deeds of cour tesy. Among his other occupations he delighted much in hearing read and related the histories of the valiant of former times. He was also a good clerk and well skilled in the playing of harps and other instruments, in dancing and singing, in the different sports of woods and rivers; at the age of fourteen he knew as much as a gentleman ought to know. And for his fine and good qualities and virtues, he was much loved and wished for by many dames and damsels. It chanced that about this time Earl Roalt, his lord, on a Day of Pentecost prepared to hold at his court a high and splendid feast, and to show his nobility and magnificence was pleased to hold double state: that is to say he, his bar ons and knights in one part of the palace, and in the other part the beautiful Felicia, his daughter of whom I have before spoken, ac companied by all the noble ladies and damsels of the country, of whom there was a great number. When on the day of the feast everyone from all parts was come there, and when the Earl was ready to go to the monastery to hear divine service, he called Guyonet before his father and in his presence and that of his most noble barons thus addressed him: 'Fair son Guyonet, it is true that I brought you up as much for the love of a father as for the good which I hope by the pleasure of God will yet be found in you,
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jf Guy of Warwick
lady and mistress, and let him be to you a good and faithful servant, for thus it pleases me/ Felicia received him with great joy, saying, 'My lord, it is a present which I hold very dear, and for which I ought greatly to thank you, both on account of the good I have heard re ported of him and also for love of his good father. And because it pleases you to commend him to me, I shall regard him still the more/ After this, the Earl left his daughter and returned to his barons, and Guy remained with his mistress, because on that day his new service began. Felicia was greatly rejoiced at her new servant and received him very graciously, and he was so courteous and of such good manners that everyone took pleasure in seeing him. For the solemnity of the feast he was gracefully apparelled and dressed according to the times, for dress was not so excessive then as it is now. He was clothed, according to the story, in a robe T THESE WORDS GUYONET KNELT BEof scarlet closely fitted to his shape and furred fore the Earl his lord and thanked in front, and he had on such other habiliments him very humbly and also Sequart as became the son of such a man as his father. his father; and all who were in presence greatly The feast was high and solemn on that day, praised the Baron for this decree, saying that and he served so gracefully in his office before he was full of noble and natural courage. And his mistress that no fault could be found with while they were saying this, the Earl took Guy him, and he was much looked at by several by the hand, who was still on his knees before persons on account of his great beauty and him, saying to him, 'Fair son Guy, seeing that gracefulness; especially the lady Felicia, his you have served before me well and dutifully good mistress, held his service in such favour for a long time in your office of Cup and that she had her eyes constantly upon him, and Trencher it is my pleasure that henceforward could not be tired of it, nor satisfy herself with you serve my daughter Felicia. I give you to her; looking at him. Guy, who saw her so fair and therefore so behave yourself that I may have sweet in the sight of others, and who did not all cause to love you better and better, for by know the nature of love, was so suddenly the great esteem I bear you, I wish that you struck with that passion by her fair countenance may be to her as what I love best in the world/ that truly it seemed to him that if he could not Guy much rejoiced at this, as a youth naturally succeed in winning her favour, and she did not would, and thanked him very humbly. retain him for her lover, the end of his life And shortly after, the Earl led him by the would be at hand. hand to his daughter and made her a present of him, saying to her, 'Fair daughter, I give you this person to serve Cup and Trencher henceforward at your table; be to him a good and consider you as my own son. And foras much as I have no heir male who after me may hold my lordship and bear the name of War wick, nor would above all things that the name should perish, I therefore desire and command that henceforward you be called Guy of War wick: I give you the name, and may the A l mighty grant you grace to maintain it in honour/
ftoto £arl M conducted (5ugonet to his daughter Felicia and jgatre him to her for a page, recommending him abotoe all other lords
a
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jf Guy of Warwick
lady and mistress, and let him be to you a good and faithful servant, for thus it pleases me/ Felicia received him with great joy, saying, 'My lord, it is a present which I hold very dear, and for which I ought greatly to thank you, both on account of the good I have heard re ported of him and also for love of his good father. And because it pleases you to commend him to me, I shall regard him still the more/ After this, the Earl left his daughter and returned to his barons, and Guy remained with his mistress, because on that day his new service began. Felicia was greatly rejoiced at her new servant and received him very graciously, and he was so courteous and of such good manners that everyone took pleasure in seeing him. For the solemnity of the feast he was gracefully apparelled and dressed according to the times, for dress was not so excessive then as it is now. He was clothed, according to the story, in a robe T THESE WORDS GUYONET KNELT BEof scarlet closely fitted to his shape and furred fore the Earl his lord and thanked in front, and he had on such other habiliments him very humbly and also Sequart as became the son of such a man as his father. his father; and all who were in presence greatly The feast was high and solemn on that day, praised the Baron for this decree, saying that and he served so gracefully in his office before he was full of noble and natural courage. And his mistress that no fault could be found with while they were saying this, the Earl took Guy him, and he was much looked at by several by the hand, who was still on his knees before persons on account of his great beauty and him, saying to him, 'Fair son Guy, seeing that gracefulness; especially the lady Felicia, his you have served before me well and dutifully good mistress, held his service in such favour for a long time in your office of Cup and that she had her eyes constantly upon him, and Trencher it is my pleasure that henceforward could not be tired of it, nor satisfy herself with you serve my daughter Felicia. I give you to her; looking at him. Guy, who saw her so fair and therefore so behave yourself that I may have sweet in the sight of others, and who did not all cause to love you better and better, for by know the nature of love, was so suddenly the great esteem I bear you, I wish that you struck with that passion by her fair countenance may be to her as what I love best in the world/ that truly it seemed to him that if he could not Guy much rejoiced at this, as a youth naturally succeed in winning her favour, and she did not would, and thanked him very humbly. retain him for her lover, the end of his life And shortly after, the Earl led him by the would be at hand. hand to his daughter and made her a present of him, saying to her, 'Fair daughter, I give you this person to serve Cup and Trencher henceforward at your table; be to him a good and consider you as my own son. And foras much as I have no heir male who after me may hold my lordship and bear the name of War wick, nor would above all things that the name should perish, I therefore desire and command that henceforward you be called Guy of War wick: I give you the name, and may the A l mighty grant you grace to maintain it in honour/
ftoto £arl M conducted (5ugonet to his daughter Felicia and jgatre him to her for a page, recommending him abotoe all other lords
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M (5upnet began to lotie his mistress felicia, and returned to his chamber after hatiinjg setüed her at table, making com* plaints and lamentations ^ J ^ f c ^ H I N G S NOW WERE IN A DIFFERENT
111 appearance, and Guyonet’s colour and ^Jj^/countenance began to change greatly and ill iJuaiiucjL that uiidL the ljlic laxxy cn u u i, m in sucli such aa manner lady j.Felicia, hiss mistress before whom he served, took notice of it, and he appeared to her to be indeed very ill at ease. But she neither knew nor could im agine the cause of this illness as one who was a virgin of tender years and had never yet thought of such an affair as love. Guyonet per formed his service at that dinner with great pain and uneasiness, and when the time came that the tables were removed and the knights, esquires, dames and damsels were assembled at the palace to dance and rejoice, Guy departed from the company as privately as he could, and from thence went to his house and shut him self in his room, the better to think by himself of his new love. And when Guy had been a great while with out saying a word, sighing very tenderly he began to complain to himself in this manner: 'Ah, Felicia! lovely mistress, I perceive through my love for you that you surpass all ladies in virtue, beauty, goodness, honour, sense and gracious demeanour. You are ever and above all the sovereign and most sweet lady whose great softness and beauty never can be con ceived, and whose beauteous eyes will, I think truly, at last be the cause of my death! But in truth it would be great comfort to die for your love, for I know well that fairer or better can not exist. Ah, Felicia! lovely mistress, your sweet face has made my heart conceive that which it never before thought of, even love!
Fairest above a ll! I consider myself happy in having been enabled to place my affections so nobly. But alas, fair one, when shall I acquire hardihood to make it known to you? Certes, I neither know nor foresee any other termina tion to it except that I shall be obliged to con ceal and bear my sorrows in secret, till by happy chance you shall learn it from some other, for I should sooner choose to die than reveal it to you. And assuredly this it is that puts me most in peril of my life, and much better would a speedy death be for me than tediously enduring this distress. Ah, most beauteous! Did you but know the grief which fills my heart, it would be a comfort to me/ At these words the youth began to weep most tenderly and remained a long time without speaking, and when the power of speech re turned to him he said, 'Oh Guy! Youth has degraded and abased thee to a foolish enter prise ! You feared evil and still fear it, and the sweet eyes of the fair Felicia have done you great harm in having conducted you to this excess that you would be disloyal to your lord, who so much loves and honours you. Oh G u y! Guy! How can you be so presumptuous as to desire in your heart to possess her affection ? Certes, you are greatly to blame! Supposing she would return your love, from which hope you are far removed, do you not know that she is your lady, to whom you are given, to do her loyal service and have promised her faith and loyality ? And moverover, she is daughter of the good Baron who so much loves your father, and confides so entirely in him that he makes him governor and master of himself and of all his land. Who then will acquit you of wicked ness and folly in this desire ? Indeed it is folly and impudence that inspire you with this thought, and if your foolish desire was known or suspected, nothing could save you from death; and indeed for only having thought of it, you have richly deserved punishment/ Then he broke out into greater grief than before, and
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began to weep so piteously that no one could have seen him without extreme pity. Then he knelt down as if he had really seen the lady and said, 'My dear lady, I entreat your pardon for my great and presumptuous fault, and beseech that it will please you to pardon me without turning it to any disadvantage, for the violence of my love drove me to this thought and forces me in spite of myself to admire, obey and honour you above all others, nor whether I live or die can I be restrained from that thought, nor will I be/ And at these words he rose from his knees in the place where he still was, and comforting his gentle heart began to say, Truly, I must not grieve to have chosen so nobly but ought to rejoice at it very much, and if I have not wit and boldness to discover my love, by the good pleasure of God I will conduct myself in such a manner and so imitate the example of worthy men that my lady will have pleasure in my service, and perhaps by good fortune the great love I have for her may be discovered and how I desire her above everyone else. And I cannot think that when she knows the truth she can have so hard a heart as to shew me no mercy. Equally great adventures have happened, as I have heard said, by Herolt my governor and many others, and I will live and die in this hope/ Then be began anew to change colour and to entertain fresh thoughts. And in the first place he said, ‘Hope! Alas, what hope can I have that can urge me to aspire to the most beautiful creature that exists and of such an exalted soul — I who profess neither age, valour nor sense, and am sure that if I lived a hundred thousand years I should never have the power or boldness to dare tell her my sorrow. I had rather die a thousand times if a thousand times I could die. And if I were so presumptuous as to disclose it to her, it is easy to conceive that nothing would ensue except my speedy death and de
struction. For before she would give me any comfort on account of any merit that there is in me, it seems more probable that she would have me cut in pieces alive, as a servant who had been false and disloyal towards her. And now what shall I say? Truly, I see no happy remedy that I can apply to my griefs except that death which is too tardy in coming upon me/
(Sugonet, looking towards the totter tohere the lair Jelicia teas, began to toeep afresh inasmuch that he fainted and fell upon his bed like one tnho is dead; and hot» herolt Bardenne, his head go&emor, blamed him for not hatting been in toaiting upon his mistress % \m
\ I
ITH THESE WORDS GUYONET ROSE
la n d went to one of the windows of his room which looked directly to wards the tower in which was the chamber of the fair Felicia. And when he had looked that way a long time he heaved a very deep sigh and said, 'O tower in which is enclosed the most beauteous of the beauteous, would that the walls with which you are encompassed were broken and overturned which prevent me from seeing her for whom I have so much to suffer. O tower! Very happy should you esteem your self to contain the richest treasure which in any opinion there is in the world. O tower! You injure me much and do me great ill in preventing me from seeing what I most long for, and cause me great regret, because I know
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began to weep so piteously that no one could have seen him without extreme pity. Then he knelt down as if he had really seen the lady and said, 'My dear lady, I entreat your pardon for my great and presumptuous fault, and beseech that it will please you to pardon me without turning it to any disadvantage, for the violence of my love drove me to this thought and forces me in spite of myself to admire, obey and honour you above all others, nor whether I live or die can I be restrained from that thought, nor will I be/ And at these words he rose from his knees in the place where he still was, and comforting his gentle heart began to say, Truly, I must not grieve to have chosen so nobly but ought to rejoice at it very much, and if I have not wit and boldness to discover my love, by the good pleasure of God I will conduct myself in such a manner and so imitate the example of worthy men that my lady will have pleasure in my service, and perhaps by good fortune the great love I have for her may be discovered and how I desire her above everyone else. And I cannot think that when she knows the truth she can have so hard a heart as to shew me no mercy. Equally great adventures have happened, as I have heard said, by Herolt my governor and many others, and I will live and die in this hope/ Then be began anew to change colour and to entertain fresh thoughts. And in the first place he said, ‘Hope! Alas, what hope can I have that can urge me to aspire to the most beautiful creature that exists and of such an exalted soul — I who profess neither age, valour nor sense, and am sure that if I lived a hundred thousand years I should never have the power or boldness to dare tell her my sorrow. I had rather die a thousand times if a thousand times I could die. And if I were so presumptuous as to disclose it to her, it is easy to conceive that nothing would ensue except my speedy death and de
struction. For before she would give me any comfort on account of any merit that there is in me, it seems more probable that she would have me cut in pieces alive, as a servant who had been false and disloyal towards her. And now what shall I say? Truly, I see no happy remedy that I can apply to my griefs except that death which is too tardy in coming upon me/
(Sugonet, looking towards the totter tohere the lair Jelicia teas, began to toeep afresh inasmuch that he fainted and fell upon his bed like one tnho is dead; and hot» herolt Bardenne, his head go&emor, blamed him for not hatting been in toaiting upon his mistress % \m
\ I
ITH THESE WORDS GUYONET ROSE
la n d went to one of the windows of his room which looked directly to wards the tower in which was the chamber of the fair Felicia. And when he had looked that way a long time he heaved a very deep sigh and said, 'O tower in which is enclosed the most beauteous of the beauteous, would that the walls with which you are encompassed were broken and overturned which prevent me from seeing her for whom I have so much to suffer. O tower! Very happy should you esteem your self to contain the richest treasure which in any opinion there is in the world. O tower! You injure me much and do me great ill in preventing me from seeing what I most long for, and cause me great regret, because I know
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that the treasure of my life is enclosed within.* Saying these words he fell fainting on his bed and was so filled with sorrow and anguish that it seemed truly as if his soul was about to de part. Herolt Dardenne, his governor, had been watching Guyonet’s conduct attentively before going into the hall with the Earl, the barons and knights, of whom there were a great many, both domestic and foreign. And when he saw the lady Felicia and the other dames and dam sels in her company arrive and did not see his master come, his heart began to tremble and he greatly suspected some bad news. He instantly left his place and went in search of him from room to room, but he met no one who could give him any tidings, and so proceeded until, in one of the apartments belonging to the lady Felicia, he found a young girl who told him how she had seen Guy depart a long time since, as it seemed to her, very pensive and heavy,
but the cause she was not acquainted with, only that with great haste he had gone straight to his own house. As soon as Herolt heard these tidings he left the room and went speedily towards the house of his master, thinking deeply with him self what could be the matter with him. But the more he pondered, the less he knew about it, except that he imagined some accidental illness might have seized him. And therefore he hastened on without stopping to speak to anyone until he came to the chamber door of his master, who was still weeping and con tinuing his complaints, and the door of the room was closely shut upon him. Herolt was very much astonished at this when he saw he could not enter; therefore he approached the door and listened to the heavy complaints and lamentations which his mas ter was making, and how he was destroying himself by giving way to sorrow, and then he determined to listen no more until he was ac quainted with the cause of his mourning. And full of the grief which it occasioned him, he struck so great a blow upon the door of the chamber that, as one who possessed great strength, he made it fly from its place and then entered full of anger; and when Guy heard the breaking of the door he sprang directly from his bed and opened his eyes. By that time Herolt was before him, and when Guy saw that it was his governor he was much ashamed, and forced himself to give him the best welcome he could, and went to meet him, saying, 'Welcome, fair sir! But what haste or necessity brings you hither in such a manner at such an hour?’ 'But you, sir,’ replied Herolt, 'what neces sity makes you shut yourself up here weeping and lamenting all alone, as I myself have heard? At the time when you ought to be at court feasting and acquainting yourself with the noble knights and inhabitants of the coun
io
ft Guy of Warwick
try, and with many others, and serving your mistress as you ought to be doing, know that this beginning of your service does not appear a good one and casts much blame upon your education!’ 'Good sir,’ said Guy to excuse himself, 'what you say is true and I implore your mercy not to bear me ill will for it, and I will take pains to amend my fault. And in order that you may be less displeased with me for the grief in which you found me, I will disclose the cause to you. At the end of dinner, when I had ful filled my service before my mistress, and when I had quitted her presence, news came to me that one who had been a great friend of mine ever since the age of childhood was recently dead, and my heart was so troubled and heavy at this that I had not time to mention it to you or anyone else; therefore I came here alone, as you have found me, the more privately to make my lamentation/ 'Sir,’ replied Herolt, as one who believed all he told him, and would take pains to comfort him, 'truly in all that you have said I see noth ing but folly/ 'How, sir,’ replied Guy, 'is it not a great loss to lose a good friend ?’ 'In the name of God/ replied Herolt, 'it is indeed a great loss and one which grieves the heart; all this I well know. But as for this weep ing and mourning, I consider it but folly, for it can in no wise benefit the departed friend, nor by your tears can you hope to make him revive. The will of the mighty Lord must be endured; it is not for you to amend it. Since your friend is dead, God will have mercy upon his soul; you will pray for him and cause alms to be given. And although I have allowed that it is a great grief to lose one’s friends, yet nevertheless remember that neither for great gains nor great losses, either of friends or prop erty, you should rejoice too much or be too much afflicted, for both from one and the other great inconveniences may ensue.’
'Sir,’ said Guy, 'since it is thus you advise me, I will guide myself by your counsel to the best of my ability.’ Then Herolt took Guy by the hand, as one acquainted with the cause of his grief, and de sired him to come to court to amuse himself with the others; and he replied that he was ready. Then they went together to the palace, where they found the barons, knights, dames and damsels, who were amusing themselves with many and various diversions. And Guy, to conceal his feelings, placed himself amongst them and displayed all the gaiety he could and sported with them much more than his heart prompted him to do; and thus passed the day until after vespers and divine service had been performed and accomplished in as solemn a manner as became the day of the feast. The hour of supper arrived and Guy was able to serve before his mistress; and she, who liked him exceedingly, and imagined no harm could ensue, shewed him still more and more kindness so that he was quite distracted with it, and often did he think her heart was answer ing to his own, and filled with the same inclina tion; but there was much to say upon that sub ject. Although she took great pleasure in talk ing and conversing with him in gentle words, yet she had no idea, neither did she conceive what was the power of love. For a long time Guy bore this passion in his heart and did himself so much violence to con ceal it that from day to day he began to waste away greatly; and the more frequently he saw his lady, the more did his sorrow increase. Thus through weakness and want of eating, drinking and sleeping, he lay down upon his bed in such grievous sickness that there seemed no remedy for him, and all the court was much troubled and grieved on his account, and above all Sequart, his father, felt very great grief of heart about him, as one who tenderly loved him. Herolt, his governor, was quite in despair with the grief he felt. Physicians were sent for
II
from all parts, but none came who could dis cover and point out the reason for his illness. And in this condition he languished for a long time and grew worse day by day. Everyone was grieved about him, on account of the good be ginning of his youth; and especially the lady Felicia, his mistress, was so much afflicted that she knew not what to do. And often, through the pity she felt for him, she wept very ten derly when anyone spoke of him to her; nor did Herolt, his governor, ever come before her without her inquiring concerning him, and she sent many greetings and through this means caused to be conveyed to him all the things she had which she thought would be agreeable to a sick person. Now it came to pass that Herolt, who was very wise and quick of observation, and had seen something of the world, reflected one day that without some great cause so grievous an illness could not have happened to his mas ter, and began to suspect a little, because every time that he carried him any greetings or mes sage from his mistress, Guy trembled all over and changed colour and countenance. And to be certain of the truth, he imagined a great stratagem, for under the appearance of a man full of thought and anger, he went before his master, to the side of his bed, and said to him, 'I see plainly that you have neither love nor kindness towards me! therefore you distrust me, and that without any cause, which gives me great vexation. And for this reason I am come to take leave of you to go somewhere else, where my service will be better employed/ 'Oh! Fair gentle sir,’ said Guy, 'what have you said? Truly, in the name of God, after my lord my father I have always trusted more, and do still trust more in you than in any person that lives. And so wise, so good, so valiant do I esteem you that I neither could or should know how to conceal anything from you/ 'In the name of God, sir/ said Herolt, 'you say what you please, but I well know the con
trary; wherefore I have no mind to stay any longer with you, so I pray you give me my dis missal/ 'Fair gentle sir,’ said Guy, 'be pleased not to talk thus. If I have displeased you in any thing, tell it me, and I will alter it according to your pleasure sooner than you should leave me/ 'You have angered me greatly, sir,’ said Herolt, 'and so much so that upon no consid eration will I stay in your company if you will not promise me a gift which I will ask of you, and which will cost you but very little/ 'Sir,’ said Guy, who did not know what he was going to ask, and was very anxious that he should not leave him, 'act confidently, for in truth, the gift cannot be so great but that you shall have it, if it is in my power, sooner than I should lose your company/ 'Many thanks, sir,’ said he, 'and upon this condition I will remain and tell you what the gift is which I desire of you. It is true that I have been with you since your infancy, and (thanks to you for it) till this present time you have never borne either grief or uneasiness in your heart of which you did not communicate the cause to me sooner than to any other. Now the case stands thus, that you are killing and destroying yourself with tears and mourning, and if you desired to hide it from me, you could not do it, for I have watched you so closely that I am nearly acquainted with the whole af fair, and this is the reason why I beg and com mand you by the gift you have promised me, and by the faith you owe to that which you love best in the world, to tell me the reason of your distress; and I promise to aid and assist you in it faithfully by all the means in my power/
12
|f Guy of Warwick
Hot» (5ug toas constrained to tell his gobemor the sorrow tohich pressed upon his heart
GUY HAD HEARD WHAT HIS I Igovernor asked of him and the % pF great earnestness with which he conjured him, and saw that he could no longer refuse avowing the truth of that which he thought to have kept hid and concealed until his death, he began to weep very bitterly. And when he could speak, he said, 'Oh, fair gentle sir, you have commanded and conjured me with such strictness that it behooves me to tell you that which I had hoped to hide and conceal all my life. Therefore I will tell you upon the condition which you have made; and know that if I am discovered in it through you, noth ing will prevent me from slaying you with my hands, or you from slaying me.’
'Do not fear that/ said Herolt, 'and speak confidently, for you may safely trust in me/ 'I shall tell you with the greatest uneasiness/ said Guy, ‘that ever I spoke with. It is true, then, that I am so ardently and perfectly in love with my lady Felicia that I expect my death in consequence; but I know and per ceive that I am too presumptuous in entertain ing that thought, and that she is my lady and mistress and the daughter of my liege lord, to whom I owe faith and loyalty, and that I do wrong in thinking of such disloyalty; but the power of love makes me do it. I pray you, fair sweet sir, not to disapprove or blame me, for know that you will soon see me die a very un happy death/ When Herolt heard what his master said to him, he was quite in despair and reflected for a long time upon the noble nature of Guy’s heart, and that it would not be well to blame or reprehend him upon this point on account of the great peril which might ensue; but de termined to comfort and soothe him in such a manner that he should be soon restored to his great strength and beauty. And then he would so correct and blame him that he would make him abandon this foolish idea. After Herolt had considered a long time, he spoke thus: 'Sir, I treasure in my heart the words which you have uttered, which show great elevation of soul, nor do dare blame you for having placed your affection so highly; and although it is not the most rational hope, by the pleasure of God it may be all for your ad vantage. But such a thing should be under taken by means of good friends and wise coun sels, and I have thought of something which may be of great service to you, if you will trust in me.’ 'Certes/ said Guy, 'I will trust in you and act according to your counsel. Therefore tell me what it is that you have thought of, and what you would have me do ?’ 'In the name of God, sir,’ replied Herolt, 'I
13
will willingly give you my advice, and I coun sel you to conduct yourself as decently as you can in this affair, and be gay and lively to blind those about you; and I will pursue your inter est by degrees and in such a manner that by the pleasure of God you will succeed in your wishes.’ 'Oh, Sir!’ said Guy, 'certes, I perceive and know that you advise me well, and to the best advantage, and it is thus I intend to act; but I am already so ill that without speedy com fort I see no remedy to my sorrow except a speedy death; wherefore I pray and charge you by the fidelity you owe me that instead of other services you will carry her a message which I will tell you.’ And Herolt to comfort him said he would willingly carry it. Then Guy thanked him and said, 'Sir, it is true that I feel so much injured by this illness that I rather hope for death than life, and there fore because I would by no means that my lady should be ignorant of the cause of my grief, and how for love of her I am arrived at the end of my life, I charge you to go to court; and if she calls you and asks you news of me, according to her custom, you will explain my condition to her clearly and entirely, just as I have told it you, in the best and wisest manner you are able without omitting any thing. Oh sir! I make a last request of you, that is that you will tell me truly and without flattery what she shall answer you, for know that other wise you will do me a worse injury than death.’ And Herolt told him that he would surely do the errand so well that it would surely satisfy him. Then Herolt took his leave of his master, who begged him to return speedily, and went straight to the court as one who well knew how to accomplish any business he had to do, and came directly into he chamber of the lady Feli cia, who was just rising from dinner. As soon as Felcia saw him, she called him graciously, as was her custom, and said to him,
'Herolt, fair good friend, how is your master Guy?’ 'My lady/ said he, 'he is as it pleases God he should be, but if it would not weary you I would willingly speak with you apart concerning some things which I should not wish everyone to hear.’ 'Friend/ said she, much struck with this, and fearing from the illness of her servant Guy that he was already dead or in peril of death, 'I will speak to you directly and in private. I pray you, therefore, that you will not leave my chamber till I have caused these dames and damsels who are here to leave it and depart, for I will send them away, that you may tell me what you wish in private.’ 'My lady,’ said he, 'I thank you, and since it pleases you, I will remain here until you send for me.’ 'It is well/ replied she. Then she went among her ladies and damsels and began to talk to them of other things, but whatever she might pretend with them she longed greatly to be de livered from them in order to speak to Herolt and hear what he had to say. As it is according to custom and a common rule that all women should be desirous and eager to hear news, she made at last an excuse for returning. And when all her ladies were gone each one to her room, and as soon as she had her wish fulfilled inasmuch as the chamber was quite empty, she entered her private apartment and sent for Herolt, who came directly at her bidding. And as soon as she saw him arrive, she told him that he was welcome. And he greeted her as it was fitting to do, then drew her aside towards a window which opened upon the gardens. And she said to Herolt, ’Sir, you are now here with me in private, therefore you may tell me what seems good to you and I will hear it willingly.’ 'My lady,’ said he, 'I could wish to be so good and wise as to be able and know how to say and do such things as should give you pleas
14
|f Guy of Warwick
ure. And because I do not know if by my rude ness of speech herein, I might create anger in you towards me, and induce you to entertain ill will against me, I desire you to promise me that you will not be displeased with me on account of anything I shall say to you or cause me evil and dishonour, or make them fall upon me or mine.’ ‘I promise it you faithfully,’ said she, who thought of no harm, ‘that through me no evil shall fall upon you on account of anything you say to me, nor will I love you the less.’ Then when he was well assured of this he began very gently to tell and wisely to relate to her the state his master was in, and how he placed in her hands his life and death; and he did not fail to recount all his sufferings to her truly and at large from point to point as one who had not this still to learn. And how that all he endured was for love of her and that without comfort from her he could not long exist, wherefore he would die a sorrowful death which would be a very great loss to all his friends, and very humbly he prayed her that she would be pleased to have mercy upon him.
Kioto Herolt informed the fair jpelicia that 0u g teas so transported toith lone of her that he toas in danger of death, at tohich she toas much displeased he
m11
LADY FELICIA HEARD ALL THESE
words without being at all dismayed at their novelty. And although she was greatly confused in her heart, nevertheless she was not at a loss for an answer, and said to him, 'Herolt, are these words true that you say to me, or do you feign them to prove me ?’
'In the name of God, lady/ said Herolt, 'what I tell you is so true that you will soon see the proof of it, if God and you do not apply a remedy; and the great agony and sorrow that I have in my heart on account of it gives me power to speak boldly to you both of that and also what Guy prayed me to tell and inform you of, that it pleases him better to die for you and your love than it would any other to live. Nor does he desire more than that you should be ac quainted with the cause, and with his final sorrow; and pardon me what I have said to you since force and constraint make me do it.’ 'Sir Herolt,’ replied Felicia, 'in truth I greatly wonder that your sense, having attained so high a point that you are considered good and wise, does not shew you that Guy and you are bound to protect the honour of my lord father and of me, and therefore your master owes me faith and loyalty such as a loyal servant owes his lord and his mistress. And also you know that his father and he are vassals of my lord father, and after him, I am their lady. Therefore con sider whether you counsel him loyally and if he does not err against my said lord father and me, to dare demand my love; and also what degree of comparison there is between me and him in honour and nobility. And in truth when I have well considered, it appears to me that your sense is much estranged from you, and from what I have heard you say, I consider you neither so good nor so valiant as I did before. And I for bid you henceforwards from being so bold as to speak to me any more upon this point, for by the soul of my lady mother, upon whom God have mercy, much evil might result to you from it. And for all that you have already said to me I grant you pardon because I promised it you, upon condition that you will never mention it again.’ ‘My lady/ said Herolt, 'I should be much grieved at incurring your displeasure or ill will, either by doing or by saying anything to you, or to anyone else for which my honour should
14
|f Guy of Warwick
ure. And because I do not know if by my rude ness of speech herein, I might create anger in you towards me, and induce you to entertain ill will against me, I desire you to promise me that you will not be displeased with me on account of anything I shall say to you or cause me evil and dishonour, or make them fall upon me or mine.’ ‘I promise it you faithfully,’ said she, who thought of no harm, ‘that through me no evil shall fall upon you on account of anything you say to me, nor will I love you the less.’ Then when he was well assured of this he began very gently to tell and wisely to relate to her the state his master was in, and how he placed in her hands his life and death; and he did not fail to recount all his sufferings to her truly and at large from point to point as one who had not this still to learn. And how that all he endured was for love of her and that without comfort from her he could not long exist, wherefore he would die a sorrowful death which would be a very great loss to all his friends, and very humbly he prayed her that she would be pleased to have mercy upon him.
Kioto Herolt informed the fair jpelicia that 0u g teas so transported toith lone of her that he toas in danger of death, at tohich she toas much displeased he
m11
LADY FELICIA HEARD ALL THESE
words without being at all dismayed at their novelty. And although she was greatly confused in her heart, nevertheless she was not at a loss for an answer, and said to him, 'Herolt, are these words true that you say to me, or do you feign them to prove me ?’
'In the name of God, lady/ said Herolt, 'what I tell you is so true that you will soon see the proof of it, if God and you do not apply a remedy; and the great agony and sorrow that I have in my heart on account of it gives me power to speak boldly to you both of that and also what Guy prayed me to tell and inform you of, that it pleases him better to die for you and your love than it would any other to live. Nor does he desire more than that you should be ac quainted with the cause, and with his final sorrow; and pardon me what I have said to you since force and constraint make me do it.’ 'Sir Herolt,’ replied Felicia, 'in truth I greatly wonder that your sense, having attained so high a point that you are considered good and wise, does not shew you that Guy and you are bound to protect the honour of my lord father and of me, and therefore your master owes me faith and loyalty such as a loyal servant owes his lord and his mistress. And also you know that his father and he are vassals of my lord father, and after him, I am their lady. Therefore con sider whether you counsel him loyally and if he does not err against my said lord father and me, to dare demand my love; and also what degree of comparison there is between me and him in honour and nobility. And in truth when I have well considered, it appears to me that your sense is much estranged from you, and from what I have heard you say, I consider you neither so good nor so valiant as I did before. And I for bid you henceforwards from being so bold as to speak to me any more upon this point, for by the soul of my lady mother, upon whom God have mercy, much evil might result to you from it. And for all that you have already said to me I grant you pardon because I promised it you, upon condition that you will never mention it again.’ ‘My lady/ said Herolt, 'I should be much grieved at incurring your displeasure or ill will, either by doing or by saying anything to you, or to anyone else for which my honour should
i5
be blamed; but by the faith which I owe to my lord of Wallingford, I would rather incur all evils even to death itself, than that one so noble and formed for so high a destiny should die in default of any thing in which I might as sist him. Neither do I fear suspicion or menace. For know, lady, that I have sufficiently blamed his intentions; but it was of no use, for he is certainly too much in love, and he is of so high a spirit that no advice will avail in preventing his speedy death, and he prohibited me upon my life from being so bold as to attempt dis suading him from it. In truth, if I knew that he thought of attempting any evil against you, or anything contrary to your honour, I should have been much to blame in speaking to you about it; but I know well that he would rather die a hundred times, if a hundred times he could die, than think or desire anything which could displease you or prove dishonourable. And if you say that I am not wise, indeed I grant that I am not. For by my faith, through me and my advice he came first to my lord your father’s court, where he saw your beauty, which I have good reason to curse because I know I shall lose him. And if he had remained at Wallingford in the house of his father, or gone to serve the King or some other prince, he might yet have arrived at great renown and I and his other friends should have had joy and honour on his account, for whom we shall now always mourn and grieve in our hearts. And, lady, consider well what you are doing in destroying a young man whose life has begun so well, of good habits and full of all virtues; for in truth, the evil deed will be attributed to you, and God give you the reward. And I wish you to be aware that the affair will not be here ended, and that neither for fear of you nor of the Earl your father shall I refrain from saying in all places that you are the cause of his death, and come what will, I ought to do it since you desire his death. And I wish and it would be right that you should have my life also, for
after him I do not wish to live, and evil be to his friends if they do not yet demand vengeance on your person.’
ftoto jpelicia desired (Bupnet’s governor to cause him to speak to her ttihen he should be recovered from his illness * ^ + % 4^ H I L E HEROLT SPOKE THESE WORDS
B la n d many others, like one whose X I 9 heart was quite overpowered by an ger on account of sorrow for his master, and often through his great rage, like a man full of ire and hot passion, cursed beauty without pity, so great a tenderness of heart came over Felicia because she felt that it was true, that if any one would have given her the world, she could not have prevented the tears rising from her innermost heart to her eyes. And to conceal her thoughts, inasmuch as she felt feeble, she sat down upon the ground on a cushion, then said to him, ’Sir Herolt, sit down here by me and be not angry with me, for you have no cause.’ Then he sat down very courteously, but at the same time without speaking, for so greatly was his heart enraged that not a word could proceed from it. And when Felicia had waited awhile and saw that nothing else would proceed from him, she resumed her speech and said to him, 'Fair gentle friend, be not dismayed at anything you have said, I beseech you. You know well that, looked upon rationally, it ought to vex me more than you, for it concerns me and my honour more than it can do you. Good friend, you give me to understand that Guy, your liege lord, is so much in love with me that he cannot be more so, and to such a degree that he is in danger of losing his life, which would be great pity, and
i5
be blamed; but by the faith which I owe to my lord of Wallingford, I would rather incur all evils even to death itself, than that one so noble and formed for so high a destiny should die in default of any thing in which I might as sist him. Neither do I fear suspicion or menace. For know, lady, that I have sufficiently blamed his intentions; but it was of no use, for he is certainly too much in love, and he is of so high a spirit that no advice will avail in preventing his speedy death, and he prohibited me upon my life from being so bold as to attempt dis suading him from it. In truth, if I knew that he thought of attempting any evil against you, or anything contrary to your honour, I should have been much to blame in speaking to you about it; but I know well that he would rather die a hundred times, if a hundred times he could die, than think or desire anything which could displease you or prove dishonourable. And if you say that I am not wise, indeed I grant that I am not. For by my faith, through me and my advice he came first to my lord your father’s court, where he saw your beauty, which I have good reason to curse because I know I shall lose him. And if he had remained at Wallingford in the house of his father, or gone to serve the King or some other prince, he might yet have arrived at great renown and I and his other friends should have had joy and honour on his account, for whom we shall now always mourn and grieve in our hearts. And, lady, consider well what you are doing in destroying a young man whose life has begun so well, of good habits and full of all virtues; for in truth, the evil deed will be attributed to you, and God give you the reward. And I wish you to be aware that the affair will not be here ended, and that neither for fear of you nor of the Earl your father shall I refrain from saying in all places that you are the cause of his death, and come what will, I ought to do it since you desire his death. And I wish and it would be right that you should have my life also, for
after him I do not wish to live, and evil be to his friends if they do not yet demand vengeance on your person.’
ftoto jpelicia desired (Bupnet’s governor to cause him to speak to her ttihen he should be recovered from his illness * ^ + % 4^ H I L E HEROLT SPOKE THESE WORDS
B la n d many others, like one whose X I 9 heart was quite overpowered by an ger on account of sorrow for his master, and often through his great rage, like a man full of ire and hot passion, cursed beauty without pity, so great a tenderness of heart came over Felicia because she felt that it was true, that if any one would have given her the world, she could not have prevented the tears rising from her innermost heart to her eyes. And to conceal her thoughts, inasmuch as she felt feeble, she sat down upon the ground on a cushion, then said to him, ’Sir Herolt, sit down here by me and be not angry with me, for you have no cause.’ Then he sat down very courteously, but at the same time without speaking, for so greatly was his heart enraged that not a word could proceed from it. And when Felicia had waited awhile and saw that nothing else would proceed from him, she resumed her speech and said to him, 'Fair gentle friend, be not dismayed at anything you have said, I beseech you. You know well that, looked upon rationally, it ought to vex me more than you, for it concerns me and my honour more than it can do you. Good friend, you give me to understand that Guy, your liege lord, is so much in love with me that he cannot be more so, and to such a degree that he is in danger of losing his life, which would be great pity, and
16
ft Guy of Warwick
I think you are so true and sincere that neither in this thing nor in any other would you say anything but pure truth; and also I firmly be lieve that you would deceive neither me nor anyone else/ In the name of God, lady/ said he, 1 would rather have a sword run through my heart than do such a thing/ 'Many thanks/ replied she. 'Certes, I believe it, but for God’s sake consider what I have said to you and advise me in this case as you would naturally advise your sister or your daughter; I pray this of you. For know that I will attend to your counsel so long as I can perceive in it the interests of my honour in greater things than you think for/ 'My lady/ said he, 'many thanks, and they are well deserved. Know, therefore, that in truth, all the reasons which you have used, and many more, have I shewn him to correct him in this thing. And he himself knows as well as any man how to relate and recapitulate them, but all signifies nothing. The love of you is so enshrined in his heart that I see nothing which can remove it except death, and if I had dis suaded you more than I have done, he would certainly have been no longer alive/ 'Sir Herolt/ said she, 'by the faith you owe him, say how and by what accident he discov ered this to you?’ 'In the name of God, lady/ said he, 'I will tell it you/ And then he began to relate it to her: 'After I saw that the physicians knew of no remedy for his illness, I suspected that he was afflicted by some such cause, and therefore I feigned anger, saying that he did not put his trust in me, and that I would leave him if he did not promise me a gift which I would ask of him.’ He acquainted her with all the agree ment which has been related above, and that for this cause Guy opened his heart to him with great agony of spirit and made him promise to keep it secret and concealed. 'Then I pray you/ said Felicia, 'is there any
one who knows of this besides you, or in whom he has placed his confidence?’ 'Lady/ said he, 'do not imagine it; he would let himself be cut in pieces before a word upon the subject escaped his mouth, and if it had not been for the reason I have told you, I should never have known it from him, for he is more secret than can be imagined.’ 'By my word,’ said the fair Felicia, 'it pleases me much that I have asked your advice. Now tell me by your faith and loyalty what it seems good to you that I should do in this matter?’ 'In the name of God, lady,’ replied he, 'since it pleases you to trust so much in me, and ask my advice, I should be very disloyal if I did not counsel you according to my ability for your honour, and believe that I desire nothing else, for from the hour when I undertook to speak to you on the subject, it was not to do you dishonour, but only to entreat that it might please you to give him some comfort that he might recover from this illness of which he is in so great danger; and after he should be re covered and in good health and prosperity, to chasten him so well between you and me by good words, that he should put all this affair out of remembrance/ 'Truly, Sir Herolt,’ said Felicia, 'your thought was a very good one, and know that I consider you for it both good and wise, and I am much indebted to you for it, and do not believe that I desire either his sorrow or discomfort, for I would rather have done great mischief else where than he should have been the worse for love to me. Therefore, consider what it may seem best to you for me to do with honour, and willingly and with all my heart will I do it for the recovery of his health and to do you pleasure/ 'Lady/ replied Herolt, 'many thanks for deigning to trust so much in me. And therefore I will tell you what you should do. If you please, you will send him by me some word of comfort which may give him pleasure.’
*7
1
agree,’ she said, and desire that you re turn to him and greet him many times from me, and tell him that I have listened in good part to the account of the great love he has for me, for which I thank him and am very much re joiced. But because I could be better assured of it from his own mouth, tell him that I de sire and beg that he will take pains to recover and leave his bed with all speed, in order that I may see and speak with him. And by the pleasure of God, when he shall be before me, I will give him such an answer as will please him best and ought to suffice him.’ 'Lady,’ said he, 'I will do this errand.’ 'I beg it of you,’ said she, 'and in such a manner that I may perceive its effects.’ 'Now certes, lady,’ said he, 'by the help of God and you I hope to succeed so well in this matter that in a short time we shall put him in a fair way for recovery/ 'God grant it,’ said she.
fioto 0ugonet tt)cnt to jfelicia upon the recital of his governor and discovered his lone to her HEN H e r o l t , w e l l p le a se d , t o o k
■ I!
leave of her and went to rejoin his master, who longed greatly for his re turn and after said, 'Oh Herolt, fair good sir, how much joy or sorrow I shall have at your coming, for I well know that you bring me either life or death.’ And while he was saying these words, Herolt entered the chamber, and as soon as Guy, who was upon the watch for his arrival, saw him, he could not refrain from saying aloud, 'Oh sire, welcome! and in the name of God, what news ?’
'Sir,’ said he, 'good news, thank God.’ Then he drew near him and related to him in fitting words how he had succeeded in his message, just as had been concerted between him and Felicia. And when Guy heard this news, such joy seized upon his heart that he thought he would expire, and he said 'O h! fair good sir, but for God’s sake, is it true? Tell me, I beseech you, nothing but the truth, for God knows it would be double death to my heart.’ 'Sir,’ said he, 'you do me an injury in doubt ing it, for I would by no means be guilty of it and, moreover, my lady Felicia begs you by the great love you have for her that you will take pains to be quickly cured and come to the court in order that she may see you and speak to you; and know that she will tell you such things as will give you pleasure! 'Oh sir,’ said Guy, 'many and great thanks to my very beautiful lady Felicia, and to you. And since it so pleases her, there is no sickness or
*7
1
agree,’ she said, and desire that you re turn to him and greet him many times from me, and tell him that I have listened in good part to the account of the great love he has for me, for which I thank him and am very much re joiced. But because I could be better assured of it from his own mouth, tell him that I de sire and beg that he will take pains to recover and leave his bed with all speed, in order that I may see and speak with him. And by the pleasure of God, when he shall be before me, I will give him such an answer as will please him best and ought to suffice him.’ 'Lady,’ said he, 'I will do this errand.’ 'I beg it of you,’ said she, 'and in such a manner that I may perceive its effects.’ 'Now certes, lady,’ said he, 'by the help of God and you I hope to succeed so well in this matter that in a short time we shall put him in a fair way for recovery/ 'God grant it,’ said she.
fioto 0ugonet tt)cnt to jfelicia upon the recital of his governor and discovered his lone to her HEN H e r o l t , w e l l p le a se d , t o o k
■ I!
leave of her and went to rejoin his master, who longed greatly for his re turn and after said, 'Oh Herolt, fair good sir, how much joy or sorrow I shall have at your coming, for I well know that you bring me either life or death.’ And while he was saying these words, Herolt entered the chamber, and as soon as Guy, who was upon the watch for his arrival, saw him, he could not refrain from saying aloud, 'Oh sire, welcome! and in the name of God, what news ?’
'Sir,’ said he, 'good news, thank God.’ Then he drew near him and related to him in fitting words how he had succeeded in his message, just as had been concerted between him and Felicia. And when Guy heard this news, such joy seized upon his heart that he thought he would expire, and he said 'O h! fair good sir, but for God’s sake, is it true? Tell me, I beseech you, nothing but the truth, for God knows it would be double death to my heart.’ 'Sir,’ said he, 'you do me an injury in doubt ing it, for I would by no means be guilty of it and, moreover, my lady Felicia begs you by the great love you have for her that you will take pains to be quickly cured and come to the court in order that she may see you and speak to you; and know that she will tell you such things as will give you pleasure! 'Oh sir,’ said Guy, 'many and great thanks to my very beautiful lady Felicia, and to you. And since it so pleases her, there is no sickness or
18
ft Guy of Warwick
pain which shall have power over me. I feel my heart quite well, and if I were but a little stronger, I should desire nothing so much as to go to court/ ‘Sir/ said Herolt, 'it is not right that you should hurry yourself; for by the pleasure of God you will go in good time when you are in better condition and your colour and beauty are returned, for then you will be better to look at than you are at present/ 'Sir/ said he, 'what you please I will do, and that is but right, but if you please, cause my robe to be brought me, for I will keep my bed no longer/ Herolt was much rejoiced at this speech and had him assisted to get up and gracefully dressed and clothed. And after he was arisen he began to amuse and disport himself joyously about his room with his servants. And then Herolt sent for Guy s father, Sequart, who was so much rejoiced when he saw him recovered that he knew not what to do, and greatly did he thank God, and said to him when he arrived, 'Fair son, how are you?’ 'Father/ he replied, 'I have been very ill, but I am now recovering by the mercy of God and my governor, Herolt, whom you ought to thank very much if I am at all dear to you, for by his good proceeding he has brought me back from death to life.’ 'Oh Herolt! Herolt!’ said Sequart, 'I and my son owe you a great reward, and may the time yet come when we shall be able to reward you as you ought.’ 'Sir/ said Herolt, 'you have already rewarded me greatly.’ In these and such like speeches they passed the whole of that day, and when the news was spread that Guy was recovering, all the court was much rejoiced; and especially Felicia, his fair mistress, was joyous above all the rest and returned thanks to God. And in a short time Guy was quite cured of his illness and nearly restored to his great strength and beauty, and
then he told his governor that it was high time he should go to court to see his friends and particularly his lady, who was so dear to his heart, and hear her good pleasure. 'I grant it willingly,’ said Herolt. Accordingly, Guy was dressed and accoutred very gaily, and they went together to the court, where every one had joy and pleasure in seeing him, when they beheld him returned in health and spirits, and all blessed God who had re stored him to them. And he was very careful to greet every one and thanked them very cour teously. He went on till he came into the pres ence of Felicia, and as soon as he saw her face, which was sweet to a miracle, it need not be asked whether he changed colour and counte nance, for he did so in such a manner that all his body began to tremble, and he was so much agitated that he did not know if he was dead or alive. And yet he concealed his emotion as much as he could. And the fair one, as soon as she saw him come, was very much rejoiced and gave him a very kind welcome, saying to him 'Guy, how are you? You have been a long time out of health/ 'My lady,’ said he, upon his knees as he was before her, 'I have been rather ill, but thanks to God and you I am much mended.’ 'God be praised for it/ said she, and then ordered him to rise, and he rose. There was great rejoicing and festivity that day upon his account, for he was much beloved by all. And when the hour of eating came, he went to serve his mistress as formerly, and al ways observed and watched whether she said anything about that of which she had sent to him. But she, who well knew how to dissemble, gave no sign or appearance of it, nor deported herself otherwise towards him than she was accustomed to do before. In this state, things remained for several days, and when he saw that nothing else would come to pass, he began to imagine in his heart that in truth his master
*9
had deceived him, and that all the words which he had related to him from his mistress were nothing but imagination and lies, and only to comfort him and restore him to health. And on account of this thought he considered his gov ernor with the greatest hatred, and would will ingly have revenged himself upon him if he had dared. It came to pass one day when he was serving before his mistress, and when she had been helped to the first dish, and the pages and oth ers who served were gone to the kitchen for the second dish, and the table was so empty that there was no one there but these two, Guy be gan to look at her very piteously. And while he looked at her, tears came from his eyes in great abundance which entirely covered his face, and he remained silent and without speaking, in somuch that Felicia took notice of this and im mediately asked him, 'Guy, what is the matter? Whence are these tears ? How do you feel your self?’ 'Lady,’ said he, 'I have so much the matter with me that death appears to me too tardy in coming to my relief, and I know not what more to tell you about it except that he in whom I have most trusted has most wickedly deceived me.’ 'How,’ said she, 'tell it me, I pray you, by the faith which you owe to that which you love best.’ 'Lady,’ said he, 'I will tell you, since it pleases you; I cannot refuse to obey your command.’ Then he began to relate to her the beginning of his love, and all the course of his life, point by point, and all the message he had given his governor to carry to her, and the words which she was said to have sent by him. 'And I know well,’ said he, 'that all is false, nor did he ever say anything to you; therefore, he did it to re store me to health. But for all that he has done, I consider him disloyal towards me, and it would have been better for me to have died at that time, than to have been so wickedly de
ceived by him. Now let what you please become of me; it suffices me, since you know that the cause of my grief in you is also the cause of my death or life.’
Hot» (Bug ioas more griebed than before, on account of the refusal of the fair jpelicia, and Kent to the garden tohere the said felicia sato him faint and sent him her cousin to console him
a
FTER GUY HAD FINISHED THE WORDS
above related, the beauteous Felicia, as one ashamed, began to look at him with a face a little rufflled, saying, 'Guy, is it true what you say to me? Truly, I see that you are not wise; and although Herolt your gover nor told me these words, I did not believe them, and thought that he was mistaken until now, when you with your own mouth have told it me; and I am much astonished how you can have been so bold as to think of such follies. You know that I am the daughter of your lord, and your mistress, to whom you owe both faith and loyalty. Therefore, consider if you do not act ill, and if you do not deserve blame by ex posing your life to such danger as would ensue if my lord and father knew that you entertained so presumptuous a thought towards me. Certes, it would be your final destruction; wherefore, I desire and command you that henceforwards you be not so foolish, nor so bold, as to speak of it more, and forsake this idle thought, for otherwise you might too late repent it; but do your office well, and in a gracious manner as you ought to do it, so that I may have no cause to complain of you. And know that I have
*9
had deceived him, and that all the words which he had related to him from his mistress were nothing but imagination and lies, and only to comfort him and restore him to health. And on account of this thought he considered his gov ernor with the greatest hatred, and would will ingly have revenged himself upon him if he had dared. It came to pass one day when he was serving before his mistress, and when she had been helped to the first dish, and the pages and oth ers who served were gone to the kitchen for the second dish, and the table was so empty that there was no one there but these two, Guy be gan to look at her very piteously. And while he looked at her, tears came from his eyes in great abundance which entirely covered his face, and he remained silent and without speaking, in somuch that Felicia took notice of this and im mediately asked him, 'Guy, what is the matter? Whence are these tears ? How do you feel your self?’ 'Lady,’ said he, 'I have so much the matter with me that death appears to me too tardy in coming to my relief, and I know not what more to tell you about it except that he in whom I have most trusted has most wickedly deceived me.’ 'How,’ said she, 'tell it me, I pray you, by the faith which you owe to that which you love best.’ 'Lady,’ said he, 'I will tell you, since it pleases you; I cannot refuse to obey your command.’ Then he began to relate to her the beginning of his love, and all the course of his life, point by point, and all the message he had given his governor to carry to her, and the words which she was said to have sent by him. 'And I know well,’ said he, 'that all is false, nor did he ever say anything to you; therefore, he did it to re store me to health. But for all that he has done, I consider him disloyal towards me, and it would have been better for me to have died at that time, than to have been so wickedly de
ceived by him. Now let what you please become of me; it suffices me, since you know that the cause of my grief in you is also the cause of my death or life.’
Hot» (Bug ioas more griebed than before, on account of the refusal of the fair jpelicia, and Kent to the garden tohere the said felicia sato him faint and sent him her cousin to console him
a
FTER GUY HAD FINISHED THE WORDS
above related, the beauteous Felicia, as one ashamed, began to look at him with a face a little rufflled, saying, 'Guy, is it true what you say to me? Truly, I see that you are not wise; and although Herolt your gover nor told me these words, I did not believe them, and thought that he was mistaken until now, when you with your own mouth have told it me; and I am much astonished how you can have been so bold as to think of such follies. You know that I am the daughter of your lord, and your mistress, to whom you owe both faith and loyalty. Therefore, consider if you do not act ill, and if you do not deserve blame by ex posing your life to such danger as would ensue if my lord and father knew that you entertained so presumptuous a thought towards me. Certes, it would be your final destruction; wherefore, I desire and command you that henceforwards you be not so foolish, nor so bold, as to speak of it more, and forsake this idle thought, for otherwise you might too late repent it; but do your office well, and in a gracious manner as you ought to do it, so that I may have no cause to complain of you. And know that I have
20
|f Guy of Warwick
neither heart nor inclination to like in the way of love, you or anyone else; and do not speak of it again to me in any manner as you fear to offend me forever.’ At these words, those who brought the meats from the kitchen came to the table, and when Guy saw them approach, he had not courage to stay there any longer; therefore, he went away distracted and full of anguish in his heart, so that he thought he should soon die. Everyone asked what was the matter with him, and Feli cia, to deceive them, replied that so great a heaviness had attacked his heart that he was near fainting before her, and for that reason she had sent him to play and take the air. And Guy, as soon as he was out of the room, turned down some steps out of sight into a fine garden which was beneath the windows of the room of Felicia, and there was in it a very pleasant and delightful meadow where he be gan to make his complaints which were so great and astonishing that no one could have seen him without pity, and he often cursed the hour in which he was born and said that he was the most miserable of men. 'A h ! Fair and good lady,’ said he, wherefore does it please you to kill me so cruelly ? I had hoped through you to become such a one that all should have esteemed you happy. Alas! dear lady, God knows that I never thought or desired any thing which was contrary to your honour, or which ought to displease you, and you have without cause banished me forever and sent me to death. But since it pleases you, fair and good lady, it ought also to please me, and may God forgive it you.’ At these words, he became faint and pale and was in such great anguish that it seemed as if his soul must leave his body. While he was complaining in this manner, it chanced that Felicia after dinner withdrew into her room, as she was accustomed to do. And when she was come to her retreat, with one young lady in her company, who was her cousin, and in whom
she greatly confided, she went to lean against the windows that look into her garden, and there beheld Guy deploring his sorrows so bit terly that it was very lamentable to hear him. Then she privately called her cousin to come to her, to hear and see his demeanour; and she came quickly, plainly hearing the voice, but not knowing from whom it proceeded. And when she perceived it was the voice of Guy, she was very sorry. Thus they listened a long time to his complaints until at last Felicia, whose heart was much softened by them, drew near her cousin and said to her, 'Fair cousin, what do you think of Guy ? Is it not a pity that he should be thus destroyed and lost through folly?’ 'In the name of God, my lady,’ said she, 'it is, and I have great compassion for him; and certainly, if she for whom he is in all this grief knew it, I do not think she would long have the heart to let him remain in such sorrow; and it appears to me that she would be wrong in behaving so haughtily to him, for from what I can understand by his complaint, he had no wish towards his lady which ought to have dis pleased her, nor which was against her honour.’ 'That may be,’ said Felicia, 'but I pray for you, if I were she with whom he is so much in love, what should you say I ought to do?’ 'Lady,’ said she, 'by your leave, I cannot judge of your inclinations, but for my part, by the faith which I owe to God and to you, if I were as beautiful as the most beautiful person in the world, and the daughter of a great em peror, and I knew that he entertained such love for me as he does towards her for whom he is in such grief, I would give him myself and my love entirely, as far as I could with honour, for if he can but live to maturity, there is hope, I think, that he is formed for very great things.’ 'In the name of God, fair cousin,’ said Fe licia, 'you have said enough, but all women are not of your opinion, and, nevertheless, I con fide so much in you, and you know so much of my secrets that there is nothing I can hide from
21 you. Therefore, I will tell you this: learn, then, that this great grief with which he is filled is for love of me.’ And then she began to relate all the affair from the commencement, as she knew it from himself, and also from Herolt, his governor. 'And moreover,’ said she, 'I am certain that before he leaves this place, you will see clear proof of it.’ 'Ah, my good lady,’ said she, 'what is this you tell me? And do you not pity him?’ 'Pity,’ said she, 'I truly feel, but there is nothing for which I would infringe my honour; and, moreover, I have had thoughts of causing him to be chastised, but that is passed. I see there is no occasion for it.’ While they held this communication together, Guy recovered from his swoon; and then he began again to sigh deeply and renewed his complaint so sorrowfully that it was lament able to hear him. And very often he regretted his beauteous lady, and wished her all prosper ity. In the midst of this great distress, it chanced that he raised his head a little, looking towards the chamber of his mistress, and then he per ceived her and her cousin, who were leaning against the windows to listen to his complaint. When Felicia saw that he perceived them, she began to argue with him in a very fine manner, and said, 'Guy, Guy, what is become of your wisdom and what is the matter with you ? What would you do ? Wherefore do you thus destroy yourself? You know well that if my father should know the reason of your con duct, no one could protect you from being put to death by him.’ 'Lady,’ said he, 'I would that he were indeed here, provided it should happen to me as you say, for I do not fear speedy death, but tedious sorrow.’ At these words, he fainted with greater anguish than he had done before. Then great compassion seized the fair Fe licia, and so much so, that she could not bear it longer, and she began to weep very tenderly, and said, 'Ah, fair cousin! What grief! Certes,
I have great fear that he is at the last ex tremity. See how pale his colour is! It were better that I were dead. For the love of God, I pray you, go into the garden and hold him in your arms until I come to you, and I will im mediately follow you.’ 'Lady,’ said she, you have spoken very right ly, and I pray you that you will speedily come, and I will go before.’ Then she descended some steps into the garden and made haste to come to Guy, as one who greatly wished him to be comforted. And when she came to him she found him upon the ground, lying fainting, and in such a state that it appeared to her that he was dead; and she took him gently in her arms and wept over him from the compassion which she had for him. And as soon as she saw Felicia, her lady, at the entrance to the garden, as one who followed her closely, she said to her, 'Ah, lady! Evil be to your beauty by which a young man of such promise will so soon end his days. Certes, you have a harder heart than I thought.’ And when Felicia was near him and saw what a state he was in, she could not have said a single word had anybody given her the world. So she began to weep very bitterly.
Hoto jfelicia placed (5ug in her lap to make him recover from his fainting, con* soling him and telling him that he most he a knight to acquire fame and renoton FTER F e li c i a h ad lo o k e d a l o n g
a
time at Guy, she let herself fall upon him and began to kiss his eyes and his face, and her cousin bathed his forehead and
21 you. Therefore, I will tell you this: learn, then, that this great grief with which he is filled is for love of me.’ And then she began to relate all the affair from the commencement, as she knew it from himself, and also from Herolt, his governor. 'And moreover,’ said she, 'I am certain that before he leaves this place, you will see clear proof of it.’ 'Ah, my good lady,’ said she, 'what is this you tell me? And do you not pity him?’ 'Pity,’ said she, 'I truly feel, but there is nothing for which I would infringe my honour; and, moreover, I have had thoughts of causing him to be chastised, but that is passed. I see there is no occasion for it.’ While they held this communication together, Guy recovered from his swoon; and then he began again to sigh deeply and renewed his complaint so sorrowfully that it was lament able to hear him. And very often he regretted his beauteous lady, and wished her all prosper ity. In the midst of this great distress, it chanced that he raised his head a little, looking towards the chamber of his mistress, and then he per ceived her and her cousin, who were leaning against the windows to listen to his complaint. When Felicia saw that he perceived them, she began to argue with him in a very fine manner, and said, 'Guy, Guy, what is become of your wisdom and what is the matter with you ? What would you do ? Wherefore do you thus destroy yourself? You know well that if my father should know the reason of your con duct, no one could protect you from being put to death by him.’ 'Lady,’ said he, 'I would that he were indeed here, provided it should happen to me as you say, for I do not fear speedy death, but tedious sorrow.’ At these words, he fainted with greater anguish than he had done before. Then great compassion seized the fair Fe licia, and so much so, that she could not bear it longer, and she began to weep very tenderly, and said, 'Ah, fair cousin! What grief! Certes,
I have great fear that he is at the last ex tremity. See how pale his colour is! It were better that I were dead. For the love of God, I pray you, go into the garden and hold him in your arms until I come to you, and I will im mediately follow you.’ 'Lady,’ said she, you have spoken very right ly, and I pray you that you will speedily come, and I will go before.’ Then she descended some steps into the garden and made haste to come to Guy, as one who greatly wished him to be comforted. And when she came to him she found him upon the ground, lying fainting, and in such a state that it appeared to her that he was dead; and she took him gently in her arms and wept over him from the compassion which she had for him. And as soon as she saw Felicia, her lady, at the entrance to the garden, as one who followed her closely, she said to her, 'Ah, lady! Evil be to your beauty by which a young man of such promise will so soon end his days. Certes, you have a harder heart than I thought.’ And when Felicia was near him and saw what a state he was in, she could not have said a single word had anybody given her the world. So she began to weep very bitterly.
Hoto jfelicia placed (5ug in her lap to make him recover from his fainting, con* soling him and telling him that he most he a knight to acquire fame and renoton FTER F e li c i a h ad lo o k e d a l o n g
a
time at Guy, she let herself fall upon him and began to kiss his eyes and his face, and her cousin bathed his forehead and
22
|f Guy of Warwick
his temples with rose water, which she had brought with her. And when Guy, who was still in a fainting fit, felt the coolness of the rose water, and the mouth of his lady touching his, he started just as if he had been sleeping and then he uttered a long sigh. And the fair Felicia, who held him in her lap, said to him, 'Fair gentle friend, how do you feel yourself, now you open your eyes ?’ And when he saw his lady, who held him in her arms, he said as well as he could speak, 'Certes, lady, I thank you. I am better than I ever was, and now let death come when it will, for I do not fear it/ 'Ah! fair friend,’ said she, 'speak not thus, nor believe that for anything you have said, I entertain anger or ill will against you, for by heaven I could not do it; therefore, you are dearer to me than you imagine. But fair sweet friend, you ought to think yourself, if you love my honour, that to give my heart too quickly to you at present, might be imputed to me as a reproach and might be a hindrance to your good and honour. And this I speak with good reason. You know that a lady would be greatly blamed to bestow her love on any one who was in the condition of a page, but it should be to a good knight and a perfect one, whose fame may grow and increase. And for this cause I said what I have said without thinking any ill, but only to test you. And certes, friend, I desire that you should speedily receive the order of knighthood, and labour to increase your honour and value, so that you may possess the good opinion of the worthy. And if God gives you such grace and hope, and if I can have honour on account of you, I promise you that you may be certain of my love.’ At these words, Guy was so much rejoiced that he knew not what to do, and said, 'A h ! lady, I thank you, inasmuch as you have re stored life to my heart. It seems to me if I were certain that nothing more was wanting, but
what you have said, to acquire your favour, it would be a light thing, and I should consider myself very happy/ 'Do not doubt,’ said she, 'for if it please God, I will faithfully keep my promise towards you; and God give you grace to become such in worthiness as I could love.’ 'Lady,’ said he, 'many thanks for this/ Then Felicia drew near him and took him by the chin, as one who was greatly ashamed, and kissed him very sweetly as an assurance of love. Among noble hearts, it will not be asked whether that kiss was not very precious to him, and so precious was it, if history speaks the truth, that he would not have taken in exchange the goods of the whole earth; by which I truly think that the gift of a kiss was not then so common as it is at present, and I think it is a great sign of lightness and forwardness in ladies, and is the cause of the advancement of many to their too great favour. I quit the further discussion of such things for the present and return to the history, which says that after the gracious kiss, Guy took leave of his mistress, so happy that he no longer remembered any sickness or sorrow which he had felt, and greatly thanked God for the fair fortune He had given him; and continually looking behind him, he took leave of his mis tress with his eyes. And when he was come to the entrance of the garden, and saw that he must depart, he said very gently, looking towards that part of it, 'O sweet and delicious garden! Be thou renowned above all others as the sweetest and most delicious and fullest of good fortune of any in the world/ With that he departed and came to the court full of more joy than he had thought to feel and began to amuse himself and rejoice with the others, who had great joy in his company. And thus he continued till the evening came on, which he much longed for, in order that he might be with his mistress to serve her ac
23
cording to custom, and to see her sweetness upon that point where all his hope was placed. At supper he served before her as usual and she gave him such fair and gracious treatment that he was so joyous he knew not what to do. And often, when she saw an opportunity when the table was empty and she could speak to him privately, she prayed him sweetly as her lover to devote himself to honour and to be of good conduct, and many other words at which his heart was so much rejoiced that he seemed to himself the richest being in the world. This night after supper Guy took leave of his mistress and went to his house, and as soon as he was come, he called Herolt, his governor, aside and related to him all the affair, for so it pleased his mistress that he should do, for she had commanded it. And when he learned the news, Herolt was very joyful and said that he had done well. This same night Herolt thought of preparing all that was necessary for Guy to be made a knight, and said to him, 'Sir, there is now no reason why you should not, without delay, to morrow desire my lord the Earl to make you a knight.’ 'Oh, sir!’ said he, ‘you have well spoken, and it shall be thus done, for indeed I had the same thought in my heart.’ The night passed and the next day being come, Guy dressed and apparelled himself very early; then he and his governor went to hear Mass, and when it was finished, they returned together to the court where they found the Earl sitting in his hall among his barons, and consulting upon several affairs.
znz
w
M o 0 u jj teas made a knight aiul re* turned to the fair jpelicia, toho told him that, since he had receitied the order of knighthood, he must folloto after merit and feats of arms to possess and acquire praise hen
HH
I
Guy
w as
co m e
in t o
the
I said court, he went up to the Earl, fell on his knees, and spoke thus: 'Sir, I thank you greatly for having during a long time brought me up, and indeed, so long that I feel myself arrived at the age in which I desire to execute the feats of arms of those of whom fame speaks. Therefore, I am come to pray you that you would be pleased to give me the order of knighthood.’ Indeed,’ said the Earl, who rejoiced much at this, ‘Guy, fair gentle son, I will do it very willingly; and for the love of you I will knight in your company such twenty others as are all gentlemen and of high descent.’ "Sir,’ said he, Very great thanks.’ Then the Earl made him rise and commanded that he and his companions should come that night to hold vigil in the principal church, according to custom, and they did so. And when the next day came, the Earl knighted Guy and his companions in so fair a manner that no fault could be found with it; and to Guy es pecially he gave such arms and accoutrements that all who saw them might plainly perceive that he was very dear to the Earl, his lord. Fine armour, and valuable horse, a noble dress of cloth of gold and of silk, equipped him in such a manner that he might have passed for the son of a great emperor. And each of his companions had no mean accoutrements. Thus the good Earl bestowed so much upon them and appointed them so richly, each according to his condition,
23
cording to custom, and to see her sweetness upon that point where all his hope was placed. At supper he served before her as usual and she gave him such fair and gracious treatment that he was so joyous he knew not what to do. And often, when she saw an opportunity when the table was empty and she could speak to him privately, she prayed him sweetly as her lover to devote himself to honour and to be of good conduct, and many other words at which his heart was so much rejoiced that he seemed to himself the richest being in the world. This night after supper Guy took leave of his mistress and went to his house, and as soon as he was come, he called Herolt, his governor, aside and related to him all the affair, for so it pleased his mistress that he should do, for she had commanded it. And when he learned the news, Herolt was very joyful and said that he had done well. This same night Herolt thought of preparing all that was necessary for Guy to be made a knight, and said to him, 'Sir, there is now no reason why you should not, without delay, to morrow desire my lord the Earl to make you a knight.’ 'Oh, sir!’ said he, ‘you have well spoken, and it shall be thus done, for indeed I had the same thought in my heart.’ The night passed and the next day being come, Guy dressed and apparelled himself very early; then he and his governor went to hear Mass, and when it was finished, they returned together to the court where they found the Earl sitting in his hall among his barons, and consulting upon several affairs.
znz
w
M o 0 u jj teas made a knight aiul re* turned to the fair jpelicia, toho told him that, since he had receitied the order of knighthood, he must folloto after merit and feats of arms to possess and acquire praise hen
HH
I
Guy
w as
co m e
in t o
the
I said court, he went up to the Earl, fell on his knees, and spoke thus: 'Sir, I thank you greatly for having during a long time brought me up, and indeed, so long that I feel myself arrived at the age in which I desire to execute the feats of arms of those of whom fame speaks. Therefore, I am come to pray you that you would be pleased to give me the order of knighthood.’ Indeed,’ said the Earl, who rejoiced much at this, ‘Guy, fair gentle son, I will do it very willingly; and for the love of you I will knight in your company such twenty others as are all gentlemen and of high descent.’ "Sir,’ said he, Very great thanks.’ Then the Earl made him rise and commanded that he and his companions should come that night to hold vigil in the principal church, according to custom, and they did so. And when the next day came, the Earl knighted Guy and his companions in so fair a manner that no fault could be found with it; and to Guy es pecially he gave such arms and accoutrements that all who saw them might plainly perceive that he was very dear to the Earl, his lord. Fine armour, and valuable horse, a noble dress of cloth of gold and of silk, equipped him in such a manner that he might have passed for the son of a great emperor. And each of his companions had no mean accoutrements. Thus the good Earl bestowed so much upon them and appointed them so richly, each according to his condition,
24
j[ Guy of Warwick
that they had great cause to rejoice. And it so happened that it was exactly on the day of the Trinity, and of the fifteenth year of the age of Guy. When the solemnity of the day was passed and Guy and his companions were made knights, as has been related, after they were returned from the chapel and come back to the palace, Guy left the company and went hastily to his mistress. And as soon as he was come before her, he fell on his knees and spoke thus to her: 'My dear lady, to accomplish your noble pleasure and command I have taken upon my self the noble order of knighthood; but certes, lady, without your gracious consolation I should not have dared to think or imagine it; and since it is thus, command and tell me what you please me to do, for no fear of death shall prevent me from endeavouring to accomplish your will, according to my ability.’ 'Sir Guy,’ said she, 'many thanks for what you have done, and it pleases me much, and is very agreeable to me to see you in the rank of a knight; and truly I am obliged to you for it. But my fair gentle friend, you know that, not withstanding the situation you have taken upon yourself, you are not yet of greater value than you were this morning, except only that you have the order of knighthood; and God knows that there is nothing in the world I desire so much as to hear your glory and renown spoken of. And for this purpose it is necessary, if you wish to please me and do my will, that you labour to acquire honour and acquaint yourself by means of your good deeds with the valiant and noble knights of foreign countries, so that you may have a right to the name of knight, and I entreat you to do this to the utmost of your abilities. And I promise you, by my faith, that to hear good news of you will be one of the greatest comforts that I can have, and I shall be very joyous on account of it.’ 'Lady/ said he, 'a hundred thousand thanks for your fair and honourable counsel, and truly
I see that you tell me the truth in saying that I am not more worthy since I have taken the name of knight than I was before, and without labouring to be and become a true knight, I should not be worthy of bearing the name. Therefore I will take pains to increase my honour and accomplish all that I know may please you, and there is good reason for it. And truly, my lady, I am so much comforted by the hope given me by your sweet words, that it seems to me that nothing you will deign to advise will be hard for me to do. And since I give myself entirely to you as my sole lady, I entreat that as your humble servant you will bear me in remembrance, for well do I know that if I am in your favour, nothing but good fortune and prosperity can befall me, and other wise, without your favour, I cannot exist/ 'Then/ said Felicia, 'I pray you not to doubt of my good will, but apply to Him who made you, to defend you from death and danger, and may He grant us always to hear good tidings of you/ 'Amen/ said Guy, 'and may I through His Grace do everything which can please you/
fio tti (I5ug begged leatrof the 25arl, the father of ielicia, and of his oton father, Sequart, to go bepnd sea in order to acquire fame and honour h en
G uy
had t a k e n
leave of
I I ^a*rFelicia, he quitted ^er much
£ J better pleased than he was before, and came to the hall into the presence of the Earl, and said to him, kneeling before him, 'My lord, you well know how I have been brought up for a long time in your house in
24
j[ Guy of Warwick
that they had great cause to rejoice. And it so happened that it was exactly on the day of the Trinity, and of the fifteenth year of the age of Guy. When the solemnity of the day was passed and Guy and his companions were made knights, as has been related, after they were returned from the chapel and come back to the palace, Guy left the company and went hastily to his mistress. And as soon as he was come before her, he fell on his knees and spoke thus to her: 'My dear lady, to accomplish your noble pleasure and command I have taken upon my self the noble order of knighthood; but certes, lady, without your gracious consolation I should not have dared to think or imagine it; and since it is thus, command and tell me what you please me to do, for no fear of death shall prevent me from endeavouring to accomplish your will, according to my ability.’ 'Sir Guy,’ said she, 'many thanks for what you have done, and it pleases me much, and is very agreeable to me to see you in the rank of a knight; and truly I am obliged to you for it. But my fair gentle friend, you know that, not withstanding the situation you have taken upon yourself, you are not yet of greater value than you were this morning, except only that you have the order of knighthood; and God knows that there is nothing in the world I desire so much as to hear your glory and renown spoken of. And for this purpose it is necessary, if you wish to please me and do my will, that you labour to acquire honour and acquaint yourself by means of your good deeds with the valiant and noble knights of foreign countries, so that you may have a right to the name of knight, and I entreat you to do this to the utmost of your abilities. And I promise you, by my faith, that to hear good news of you will be one of the greatest comforts that I can have, and I shall be very joyous on account of it.’ 'Lady/ said he, 'a hundred thousand thanks for your fair and honourable counsel, and truly
I see that you tell me the truth in saying that I am not more worthy since I have taken the name of knight than I was before, and without labouring to be and become a true knight, I should not be worthy of bearing the name. Therefore I will take pains to increase my honour and accomplish all that I know may please you, and there is good reason for it. And truly, my lady, I am so much comforted by the hope given me by your sweet words, that it seems to me that nothing you will deign to advise will be hard for me to do. And since I give myself entirely to you as my sole lady, I entreat that as your humble servant you will bear me in remembrance, for well do I know that if I am in your favour, nothing but good fortune and prosperity can befall me, and other wise, without your favour, I cannot exist/ 'Then/ said Felicia, 'I pray you not to doubt of my good will, but apply to Him who made you, to defend you from death and danger, and may He grant us always to hear good tidings of you/ 'Amen/ said Guy, 'and may I through His Grace do everything which can please you/
fio tti (I5ug begged leatrof the 25arl, the father of ielicia, and of his oton father, Sequart, to go bepnd sea in order to acquire fame and honour h en
G uy
had t a k e n
leave of
I I ^a*rFelicia, he quitted ^er much
£ J better pleased than he was before, and came to the hall into the presence of the Earl, and said to him, kneeling before him, 'My lord, you well know how I have been brought up for a long time in your house in
25 great honour and ease, and you have been pleased to honour me so far as to give me the noble order of knighthood, which is more worthy than any other. Because it is the custom, and you well know it is so, that every prince who dubs a knight is obliged to grant his knight the first request he shall make to him, I there fore require and beg of you, by the virtue of the high order which you have given me, that you will grant me a gift which will cost you very little. And further, I desire that my lord father promise you that, such gift as you shall grant me, he will also accord/ And the Earl, who thought there was nothing in it but good, and who was much pleased with all that Sir Guy said to him, granted his request benignly and called his father, who was in presence, and said to him, 'Sequart, you have heard what Guy your son has asked, and I desire and pray you that you will grant me this de mand, whatsoever it may be/ 'Sir', said the father, 1 desire it may be as it pleases you, for so it pleases me; and now ask what you wish, for by me your request shall not be denied/ Then the Earl turned towards Guy and said to him, 'Now go on, fair son. Now ask your gift, for you shall not fail obtaining it, if it is a thing that I can reasonably do/ 'Sir,’ said he, 'many thanks. Now I will tell you the gift that I wish to ask of you. It is true that you have given me the name of knight, but the dignity of rightfully bearing so lofty a title neither you can give me nor anyone else, but God alone and the labour of my endeavours. And inasmuch as I am weary of repose, I long to try if I shall ever be so worthy as lawfully to bear the name of knight, which is so noble a one; wherefore I beg you, as a reward of all my services, that it will please you to grant me your good permission to depart, in order that I may go and acquaint myself with the noble and valiant knights beyond the sea, for it appears to me to be high time to do so/
'Fair friend,’ said the Earl, 'since it thus pleases you, I will not disappoint your good intentions, and also because you have required it of me.’ 'Sir,’ said Sequart his father, who was well acquainted with his wishes, 'since he so much desires it, I hope by the protection of God it is all for the best.’ 'And may God grant it,’ said the Earl. Immediately his father caused all his equip age of horses, armour, robes and jewels, of plate gold and silver to be prepared, as became his condition, and greatly did the good Earl add of his own substance. When Sir Guy was equipped and nothing remained but to depart, his father called him aside and said to him, 'Fair son, what company do you mean to take with you?’ 'Sir,’ said he, 'Herolt, my governor; as for the rest, it is at your disposal.’ 'In the name of God,’ said he, 'you have well spoken, and I will command him to do so.’ Thus he called Herolt, who was mightily occu pied with this equipment, and said to him, 'Fair gentle friend and companion, I confide my son to your guidance and command, and so direct him that you may obtain honour on account of him, and place my reliance in you.’ 'Sir,’ said he, 'God give me grace to do so.’ 'And son, obey and honour him as your master, I command you.’ 'Sir,’ said Guy, 'all this I will do by the grace of God.’ Then Sequart called two poor knights of his household who were valiant and loyal and firmly bold, of whom one was named Athosry and the other Therolt— some historians add Thibault— and said to them, 'Fair sirs, you have served me well and faithfully for a long time with small reward, and I have found you to be such men as I dare confide in. Therefore, I desire and pray you that you will go on this journey with Guy, my son, and assist in guard ing and saving his honour and his life as you
26
jf Guy of Warwick
would do to myself; and I place my substance and treasures at your disposal, to take of them what seems to you right and necessary.’ When the two knights heard this, you must know that they were very ready for this service, as men who were desirous of serving him and expecting a great reward. Then Guy took his leave of his father and went hastily straight to the sea, as one who desired greatly to do some thing which might turn to his honour. And by a happy chance he found at that time a vessel off the shore ready to sail for the coast of Normandy. And as one to whom it did not signify whither he went, so that he acquired honour, he enquired of them where they were going, and they replied into Normandy. 'By my faith,’ said he, 'that pleases me much, for I propose going there.’ The mariners very much rejoiced at this, be cause they saw he was magnificently provided with victuals and other things necessary to them; so he and all his company put to sea, and every thing happened so fortunately inasmuch as the water was favourable, that in a short time he arrived and landed at the harbour of Harfleur, which is upon the course of the River Seine. There he left the vessel and landed with out any difficulty. When both he, his people and horses were refreshed, he set off on the road to the good city of Rouen and sent his people before him to take an honourable lodging and such as became his rank. He was richly lodged and received with great honour at his arrival, for he made his people keep up great expense, the better to shew his nobility, and so much so that all the noblest in the city delighted in his manners.
3 M 0u g as he teas at the toindoto, and sato lances and arms pass through the streets, asked his host of 'Rouen tohat these things meant; bg tohich means he toas told of the tournament tohich teas to be held ttrithout the citg
T CHANCED THAT ONE DAY G U Y WAS
leaning out of the window, which opened upon the principal street, and then he thought which way he could go to meet with any adventure by which his value might be en hanced. It chanced that at that moment he saw passing through the streets several squires and servants who were carrying great plenty of shields and lances and other accoutrements which belong to a tournament. He called his
26
jf Guy of Warwick
would do to myself; and I place my substance and treasures at your disposal, to take of them what seems to you right and necessary.’ When the two knights heard this, you must know that they were very ready for this service, as men who were desirous of serving him and expecting a great reward. Then Guy took his leave of his father and went hastily straight to the sea, as one who desired greatly to do some thing which might turn to his honour. And by a happy chance he found at that time a vessel off the shore ready to sail for the coast of Normandy. And as one to whom it did not signify whither he went, so that he acquired honour, he enquired of them where they were going, and they replied into Normandy. 'By my faith,’ said he, 'that pleases me much, for I propose going there.’ The mariners very much rejoiced at this, be cause they saw he was magnificently provided with victuals and other things necessary to them; so he and all his company put to sea, and every thing happened so fortunately inasmuch as the water was favourable, that in a short time he arrived and landed at the harbour of Harfleur, which is upon the course of the River Seine. There he left the vessel and landed with out any difficulty. When both he, his people and horses were refreshed, he set off on the road to the good city of Rouen and sent his people before him to take an honourable lodging and such as became his rank. He was richly lodged and received with great honour at his arrival, for he made his people keep up great expense, the better to shew his nobility, and so much so that all the noblest in the city delighted in his manners.
3 M 0u g as he teas at the toindoto, and sato lances and arms pass through the streets, asked his host of 'Rouen tohat these things meant; bg tohich means he toas told of the tournament tohich teas to be held ttrithout the citg
T CHANCED THAT ONE DAY G U Y WAS
leaning out of the window, which opened upon the principal street, and then he thought which way he could go to meet with any adventure by which his value might be en hanced. It chanced that at that moment he saw passing through the streets several squires and servants who were carrying great plenty of shields and lances and other accoutrements which belong to a tournament. He called his
27 host, whom he saw in waiting in the room, and said to him, ‘Fair host, what mean so many lances and shields which I see carried through the streets? Is there to be a tournament any where about here ? I pray you tell me.’ 'How, sir,’ said he, 'have you heard nothing of it?’ 'In the name of God, sir,’ said Guy, 'I have heard nothing of it, truly.’ 'I wonder much at that,’ said the host, 'for there is no country or kingdom from the Sea of Greece to the extremity of Britain where the news has not spread; and since you do not know of it, I will tell it you, for there will be so many good knights of divers countries and lofty prowess in this assembly that it will be good to see. It is true that the Emperor Regnier of Germany has caused a tournament of high emprise to be proclaimed which will be held in a part of Flanders; and it is settled that he who shall have so much valour as by his body to obtain the estimation of the two parties shall have a falcon quite white and of wonderful value, a white horse of great price, and two white greyhounds, surpassing all others in ex cellence; and all these things will be presented to him by the daughter of the Emperor herself, who is so beautiful and will add so much by her own fair presence that she will bestow upon him above all others her love, if he has not any other mistress who surpasses her in beauty and worth, and whom he neither will nor ought to change for another love.’ 'By the Holy Cross,’ said Sir Guy, 'here is a gracious device and fair ordonnance, and this news pleases me much to hear. And for the joy you have given me, fair host, very certainly I thank you. Know that nothing shall prevent me, if God give me health, from being at this tournament to see the persons who will be there and the demeanour of those who best conduct themselves.’ 'In the name of God, sir’ said the host, 'what you say is very good, inasmuch as I see that you
are young and may see and learn such things as may profit you if you desire to handle arms in the time to come.’ Then and without further delay, Guy caused a very fine and well-paced palfrey to be given to his host, and all for love of the news which he had told him. Then he turned to his people and said to them, 'Fair sirs, now rejoice and let us think of preparing ourselves to go and see this goodly company, for great will be the honour of him who does well at it, and God give us grace that we may not be among the worst.’ 'Amen, sir,’ said they. This night passed in great joy, and they pre pared themselves with all they knew was neces sary. And the next day, after Mass, Sir Guy took leave of his host and set off from the town of Rouen, he and his company. And he went on until he came where the tournament was to be held. Near there he lodged until the day should come, which was near, and equipped himself so well that nothing was wanting to him nor to any of his companions, with which they were supplied even beyond what was necessary. And when the day came, he said to Herolt and his other companion, 'Fair sirs, I do not know what will become of me, nor what favour God will shew me in this day, and therefore I will wear such arms as I shall be little known by, and I will tell you what it is my will to wear upon this occasion: a shield paled with gold and azure and all my other armour correspond ing to it.’ 'Sir,’ said they, 'you have said well, and we will do likewise.’ Such arms, according to the true history and right chronicles of him which are in the Abbey of Glastonbury, and elsewhere, did Guy bear that day, which was the first essay of arms in which he ever proved himself. Other chronicles and historians have said otherwise. And al though there is not in the differences any great
28
jf Guy of Warwick
matter, at the same time I will write this history to the best of my power and according to what I can discover is nearest the truth. It came to pass on the day of the tournament that a number of noble knights of divers coun tries were assembled on the ground, each desir ing to acquire honour and fame. And there were spread there many fine tents; in one part of the field were the booths and scaffolding erected, which were very fine to behold, and were full of dames and maidens of rank. There was the daughter of the Emperor for whom the tournament was held. With her was so vast a number of ladies of the country, and besides of foreign lands, as would be wondrous to relate; to see who should do best, and to judge him who should surpass the others in merit, for to her the charge was given. The combat of the tournament was between Gaher, the son of the Emperor (in his company were Duke Othes of Pavia, Duke Reiner of Cessoigne and many other lords well accompanied, of high renown of chivalry), and, on the other side, the Duke of Lorraine, the Duke of Louvain who was a very good and brave knight, the Duke of Moraine, the Count Valdemar and a great num ber of very valiant knights in their company. And when they were assembled on both sides on the ground, and the challenges given as the laws of tournament require, you might see them without any longer delay dashing towards each other, as men who were determined and desir ous to acquire honour. There were many fair and well-executed tilts, and young knights who behaved very well, for in that time it was the custom that the new knights always began the tournament. And there were a great number of tourneys because Gaher (the son of the Em peror of whom I have told you, who was the sovereign of the place after his father) had been lately made a knight and was desirous to deport himself well and increase his honour; and so did also his companions.
Hot» (5ug looked on at the tilting matches and afterwards fought against (5ahet, the son of the Emperor, and heat him to the ground mice, and at last mounted his horse in spite of all his enemies
a
LL
THESE
TILTS
OF
THE
YOUNG
knights Sir Guy beheld as one who held himself under cover of the forest, and in such a place that he could see all that was done, until he beheld Gaher come out of the lists richly dressed, as became the son of an emperor, and then he said, 'Sirs, it is time to go; sojourning here so long might be attributed to cowardice, and turned to our reproof; and
28
jf Guy of Warwick
matter, at the same time I will write this history to the best of my power and according to what I can discover is nearest the truth. It came to pass on the day of the tournament that a number of noble knights of divers coun tries were assembled on the ground, each desir ing to acquire honour and fame. And there were spread there many fine tents; in one part of the field were the booths and scaffolding erected, which were very fine to behold, and were full of dames and maidens of rank. There was the daughter of the Emperor for whom the tournament was held. With her was so vast a number of ladies of the country, and besides of foreign lands, as would be wondrous to relate; to see who should do best, and to judge him who should surpass the others in merit, for to her the charge was given. The combat of the tournament was between Gaher, the son of the Emperor (in his company were Duke Othes of Pavia, Duke Reiner of Cessoigne and many other lords well accompanied, of high renown of chivalry), and, on the other side, the Duke of Lorraine, the Duke of Louvain who was a very good and brave knight, the Duke of Moraine, the Count Valdemar and a great num ber of very valiant knights in their company. And when they were assembled on both sides on the ground, and the challenges given as the laws of tournament require, you might see them without any longer delay dashing towards each other, as men who were determined and desir ous to acquire honour. There were many fair and well-executed tilts, and young knights who behaved very well, for in that time it was the custom that the new knights always began the tournament. And there were a great number of tourneys because Gaher (the son of the Em peror of whom I have told you, who was the sovereign of the place after his father) had been lately made a knight and was desirous to deport himself well and increase his honour; and so did also his companions.
Hot» (5ug looked on at the tilting matches and afterwards fought against (5ahet, the son of the Emperor, and heat him to the ground mice, and at last mounted his horse in spite of all his enemies
a
LL
THESE
TILTS
OF
THE
YOUNG
knights Sir Guy beheld as one who held himself under cover of the forest, and in such a place that he could see all that was done, until he beheld Gaher come out of the lists richly dressed, as became the son of an emperor, and then he said, 'Sirs, it is time to go; sojourning here so long might be attributed to cowardice, and turned to our reproof; and
29
we see others before us who by their good con duct acquire glory and praise/ Then he struck his horse with his spurs, and his three companions after him did the same; and when they came to the entry of the town, he called a page who held lances and asked him, 'Good friend, who is that knight yonder with gilded arms who is mounted upon that great charger and preparing to tilt?’ 'Sir/ said he, 'do you not know him ? That is Gaher, the son of the Emperor, who is a very good knight/ And when Sir Guy heard who it was, he waited no longer but galloped towards him, his lance couched, and his shield on his arm, and Gaher soon saw him coming; so they mutually rushed on as fast as their horses could carry them; and at the encounter struck with their lances upon each others shields with all their might, so that Gaher shivered his in pieces. And Sir Guy, who used might and valour, inas much as he struck him rather low, prevailed so much that by the force of his lance he made him fly from the saddle and fall far from his horse upon the ground. This tilt the daughter of the Emperor saw, and many other ladies, and they were greatly astonished at it. And when Sir Guy had done this and heard the shout that was raised for this tilt, he would no longer delay; therefore, he urged his horse with his spurs towards another knight who was coming onwards and assaulted him in such a manner, inasmuch as he was coming with too great speed, that he struck him and his horse to the ground in a moment. And then a greater shout was raised than before and the heralds said, 'Bravely fights the knight with the shield paled gold and azure!’ Meantime, Gaher, greatly ashamed at being thus struck down, had remounted. He took courage and resolution and saying that he would avenge his disgrace, galloped towards Sir Guy, who had his sword in hand, and was dispensing
the great crowd around him. When Guy saw him, he had no mind to fly. Therefore he turned his horse’s head towards him, as one who had no lance, held his shield firmly against his breast and his sword in his hand. Gaher struck him so fiercely at their encounter, inasmuch as he was mounted on the flower of horses, that he caused Guy’s lance to fly in pieces and a great shiver remained in the shield; but God preserved Guy from having his flesh touched by it. And Sir Guy, who was greatly enraged by this blow, struck him with his sword, while passing him, such a stroke upon his helmet that he had not power to keep the saddle. Therefore Gaher was obliged to quit and fell on the ground so much stunned that he thought he was wounded to death. Then the cry and the noise of the tournament followed Sir Guy, who was much harassed, and his horse also that day, and who felt him self much weakened; yet he sprung lightly to the ground and took the bridle of Gaher’s horse, which was of great value; and in spite of all his enemies, he lept into the saddle so lightly that nothing seemed to ail him. Then he felt himself much encouraged and went through the greatest crowds, wounding and striking down before him all that he met, so that by his own might and that of his horse, who served him well that day, and by his blows which were so heavy that none could stand them, wherever he came, he struck down knights and horses, and tore helmets from heads and shields from bodies. And he did such wonders that several quitted their deeds of valour to look at him; and wherever he came, all gave way to him to fly his blows, and he pleased Herolt his master greatly, whose atten tion was constantly fixed upon him.
3°
ft Guy of Warwick
fioto Herolt ouerthreto the Buke of Moraine and the Count W a lte r ; and hoto also (5ug obtained the highest praise from the Emperor’s daughter, and more' otier mounded Buke Othes through the bodg,and otoerthreto Buke Heiner of fcessoigne HILE G u y
w a s s it u a t e d a s o n e
I I w^ ° stoPPed at n°thing> he went £ 3 through all the ranks overthrowing whatever he met with and presenting his shield to all. It came to pass that the Duke of Moraine, who greatly envied him, tried to wound him by treachery. And Herolt took notice of this, and went to meet him with his lance couched, as fast as his horse could carry him, and at tacked him at his arrival so fiercely that he bore him to the ground, him and his horse all in a moment, and with this blow he broke his lance and accomplished his tilt. And at his return, Herolt drew his sword from the scabbard and encountered the Count Valdemar, who was coming towards him with his lance couched. He struck his shield in such a manner that the lance broke, and as the Count passed, gave him such a blow with his sword, that in despight of himself he made him fall to the ground under the horse’s feet, where he was much trampled on before he could raise himself again. Guy plainly perceived these two blows from the great crowd where he was; so he ap proached him, and cried to him, 'Oh, sir! By the Holy Cross it is good to find you out, for in such business as this you know well how to assist one; let us go forwards.’ Then they went together to a place where there might have been two hundred knights together, and Duke Othes of Pavia was master
and governor of them, he whose heart was very cruel and villainous. And the Duke was greatly vexed in his heart at what he saw Sir Guy doing, and all of the shouts of the tournament turned upon him, each one saying— even the daughter of the Emperor and all the dames and damsels— that the knight with the shield paled or and azure had conquered all. And Guy plainly heard these words and shouts and this made him exert himself more to discomfort and disperse his enemies, and he effected so much in a short time, with the aid of Herolt his good governor, that all the company of the Duke of Pavia was put to flight. And then a great shout was raised over them, and Duke Othes, their lord, was so much grieved that he asked for a strong sword, and swore truly that he would prove himself with the knight who had conquered all and avenge the disgrace of his people. He galloped towards Sir Guy, determined to act bravely; and he, who saw him coming from afar, and knew him well to be Duke Othes, was very much rejoiced and took a spear from the hand of one of his people and made his horse gallop as fast as he could carry him, and struck him as he returned on the top of the shield, so that neither shield nor halbert prevented him from putting the spear so far into his shoulder that it appeared on the other side and came against him with such force that despight of himself he bore him from his horse to the ground. And then the shout was louder than before. And all said that truly the knight with the shield paled or and azure acquitted himself well, who discomfited all the others and surpassed them in prowess. Duke Reiner of Cessoigne, who was cousingerman to Othes, had plainly seen that blow, and he was greatly agonized at it and cried to Sir Guy, so that he could hear him plainly, ‘Vassal! Vassal! You do ill to put your hand upon the body of my cousin the duke. Know that I am come to revenge him. Defend your self from me.’
'Sir Duke,’ said he, 'thank God I defended myself pretty well from him, and I shall protect myself from you as well as I can.’ They charged without more words and struck each other so fiercely at the encounter of their lances that these flew in pieces, and in passing, Sir Guy struck him with such force of his body and shield that in spite of himself he was obliged to quit the saddle and fall to the ground. And then Sir Guy took the horse by the bridle and brought it back to where he lay on the ground, stretched at length and so stunned that he did not know where he was, and said to him, 'Sir Duke, here is your horse; mount it, for the crowd may soon injure you; another time, if it so happens, you may return me the service/ Then the Duke raised himself on his feet, wondering much at his courtesy and who he could be, and said to him, 'Sir knight, by the faith you owe to what you best love, tell me your name and what country you are of?’ 'In the name of God, Sir Duke, you have so conjured me that I will tell you. Know there fore that those who are acquainted with me call me Guy of Warwick, and I was born in Eng land.’ At these words he left the Duke, who had again mounted his horse, and went into the battle, striking and bearing down as vigorously as if he had done nothing all day; wherefore all wondered that the body of one single knight could suffer and endure so much; for so many horses and prisoners did he gain that day that it would seem marvellous to relate it. But he threw aside all gains for the acquirement of honour. Herolt, his master, and those of his company, acted so well that day that no one could find any fault with them. And there was no one who by his good conduct could be com pared, according to what was said, with the knight of the shield paled with or and azure, and upon whom all attention was fixed, as one who had not ceased all day since the beginning from wounding and conquering and was as
fresh as if he had not struck a stroke, so that at the hour after vespers, none dare attack him any more; but they fled before him on all sides in great flocks, as if they had been sheep. And when he saw that all attention was turned upon him, and that he had accomplished his wish and the flyers would not return, he de parted privately from the ground and went directly into a little path that he knew of through the woods, till he came to the house where he lodged and immediately caused him self to be disarmed, as one who was much wearied, and went to a couch which was by the fire. Presently after came Herolt and his com panions, who congratulated him greatly and told him how the talk of the tournament was all about him; and he answered that it was only the kindness of those who adjudged it, but it was not so, for there were others who had done better than he on the ground. And this he said as one who would not boast of the good deeds he did. But here the story leaves him and his company and returns to relate the end of the tournament.
fioto J&lanchefleur, daughter of the Emperor, M e d among her ladies that the knight ttiith the shield paled or and azure tilted better and did more than all the others N THIS PLACE THE HISTORY SAYS THAT
when Sir Guy left the tournament, as one £ P who had done well above all others, no deed of prowess was afterwards done worthy of record; and a cry was made by the heralds, according to the customs of that time, because
'Sir Duke,’ said he, 'thank God I defended myself pretty well from him, and I shall protect myself from you as well as I can.’ They charged without more words and struck each other so fiercely at the encounter of their lances that these flew in pieces, and in passing, Sir Guy struck him with such force of his body and shield that in spite of himself he was obliged to quit the saddle and fall to the ground. And then Sir Guy took the horse by the bridle and brought it back to where he lay on the ground, stretched at length and so stunned that he did not know where he was, and said to him, 'Sir Duke, here is your horse; mount it, for the crowd may soon injure you; another time, if it so happens, you may return me the service/ Then the Duke raised himself on his feet, wondering much at his courtesy and who he could be, and said to him, 'Sir knight, by the faith you owe to what you best love, tell me your name and what country you are of?’ 'In the name of God, Sir Duke, you have so conjured me that I will tell you. Know there fore that those who are acquainted with me call me Guy of Warwick, and I was born in Eng land.’ At these words he left the Duke, who had again mounted his horse, and went into the battle, striking and bearing down as vigorously as if he had done nothing all day; wherefore all wondered that the body of one single knight could suffer and endure so much; for so many horses and prisoners did he gain that day that it would seem marvellous to relate it. But he threw aside all gains for the acquirement of honour. Herolt, his master, and those of his company, acted so well that day that no one could find any fault with them. And there was no one who by his good conduct could be com pared, according to what was said, with the knight of the shield paled with or and azure, and upon whom all attention was fixed, as one who had not ceased all day since the beginning from wounding and conquering and was as
fresh as if he had not struck a stroke, so that at the hour after vespers, none dare attack him any more; but they fled before him on all sides in great flocks, as if they had been sheep. And when he saw that all attention was turned upon him, and that he had accomplished his wish and the flyers would not return, he de parted privately from the ground and went directly into a little path that he knew of through the woods, till he came to the house where he lodged and immediately caused him self to be disarmed, as one who was much wearied, and went to a couch which was by the fire. Presently after came Herolt and his com panions, who congratulated him greatly and told him how the talk of the tournament was all about him; and he answered that it was only the kindness of those who adjudged it, but it was not so, for there were others who had done better than he on the ground. And this he said as one who would not boast of the good deeds he did. But here the story leaves him and his company and returns to relate the end of the tournament.
fioto J&lanchefleur, daughter of the Emperor, M e d among her ladies that the knight ttiith the shield paled or and azure tilted better and did more than all the others N THIS PLACE THE HISTORY SAYS THAT
when Sir Guy left the tournament, as one £ P who had done well above all others, no deed of prowess was afterwards done worthy of record; and a cry was made by the heralds, according to the customs of that time, because
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]] Guy of Warwick
the hour was passed and jousts and tourna ments should only last a certain space of time. And whoever should do more, instead of hon our and praise, violence and blame should be imputed to him. When Blanchefleur, daughter of the Emperor of whom I have spoken above, saw that the tournament was finished, she took counsel with the ladies and damsels of her com pany concerning all that had passed, and who it was that seemed most worthy by his good deeds to receive the honour and prize of that day. And all with one consent agreed that among all other knights, the knight of the shield paled or and azure had excelled in merit. In the name of God,’ said she, 1 agree, and it appears to me that you speak the truth, but as to what I ought now to do, and inasmuch as great part of this affair concerns me, I would willingly begin it with good advice, and for this purpose it seems good to me that I speak to my cousin the Duke of Cessoigne, who is very wise and learned in such affairs, and hear what he will advise me/ ‘Lady,’ said they, ‘be it according to your good pleasure/ So they sent for him presently, and when he was come to her, she received him very gra ciously, and said to him* 'Fair cousin, I send for you to advise me and these other ladies who are here present, concerning that about which we are unlearned. You know that the charge of electing him who has behaved best today, in this place, and is deserving of the prize, is committed to us. But neither I nor they wish to do anything without good advice, and so I pray you by the faith you owe my lord father, and by the great confidence I have in you, that you will tell us which of the company is most worthy to receive this honour/ 'How, lady/ said he, 'do you not know it? Now am I much astonished at you and your company who ought to be wise, and are in a good place to have seen those all day who be
haved best. And know that there was but one well doer and that one surpassed all others/ 'Fair cousin/ said the damsel, 'be pleased to name him, for we will all abide by your opinion/ 'In the name of God/ said he, 'I will will ingly name him. Know that the knight who bore today the shield paled or and azure has surpassed and outdone all the others in honour and merit as he who vanquished both parties. And if anyone would say the contrary, I am ready to prove by my body that it is so/ 'By Heaven, fair cousin/ said the lady, 'you have said enough, and we will all abide by what you have said/ Then knights were sent, on the part of the lady, to seek him and bring him to her. They sought him high and low, but found no one who could give them any tidings of him, as one who had departed a long time ago and as privately as he was able. And when the lady saw that he was not found, she was very much grieved, and then one of the ladies of the com pany said to her, 'Lady, I saw the knight depart a long time ago when the tournament was fin ished and he went privately into the forest by that road that you see before you, and I verily believe that whoever will seek him there will find him lodged in some retreat therein/ The lady was very much pleased at this news, and by the advice of the Duke of Cessoigne, and the ladies of her company, directly sent a cousin of hers who was not yet a knight, and with him several squires and pages, and de sired them to go and search for him and carry him the presents from her. And he said that he would do all his errand well. So he departed, and he and all his company went into the forest by the same road that the ladies had shewn him. And he went on till he saw before him a fine castle well situated and enclosed with high walls and good ditches. He went up to the gate where he saw a young knight who, accord
33 ing to appearance, was much occupied with his servants and often charged them to take care that everything should be well conducted. And when he was near him, he greeted him very courteously, and the knight answered that he was welcome there. 'Fair sir,’ said the squire, 'could you give me news of a knight who this day bore arms at the tournament paled or and azure?’ "Wherefore do you ask?’ said the knight. 'In the name of God,’ said the squire, 'for his great advantage and honour; and I will tell him such things as will give him great pleasure.’ 'Then,’ said the knight, 'I will tell you what I know; but dismount, both you and your company, and tell me, if it does not displease you, who you are and who sent you here; for it appears to me that you are come upon a mes sage, and I will willingly tell you where he is.’ 'Sir,’ said he, 'know that I am called Gaultier de Montblanc, and am cousin to the emperor; and his beautiful eldest daughter Blanchefleur, for whom the tournament was made, sends me upon this errand.’ 'In the name of God, sir,’ said he, 'you are very welcome.’ Then the knight took him by the hand and said to him that he would directly conduct him to see that person whom he had so much sought for; and they went, those two together, and the others after them, until they came to the hall where they found Sir Guy, who was dressed and apparelled because he had heard that a messenger was come to speak to him. And when the host saw him he said, 'Sir, now you may see the good knight, him whom you seek for.’
H oisj the messenger of blanchefleur brought the falcon to (Bug tohicft she sent him, toith the other presents, telling him that she greatlg desired to see him ^
MB
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G a u ltie r
h eard t h a t it
I B was him whom he sought, he ad^ / vanced toward him with the falcon on his fist and knelt before him, and said, 'Sir, may God increase your honour and merit ac cording to your noble beginning. My lady Blanchefleur, the daughter of the Emperor, sends me to you; she greets you and presents you first by me, her love and good will, as to him whom she holds dearer than all other knights; she sends you (as to him who in her sight, and that of the ladies of the company, has done best today on the ground) this falcon, these two good white greyhounds, and this horse, which is of great value; and she gives you the prize of honour of this day and desires much to see you/ ‘Sir,’ said he, 'arise; it is not right that you should kneel before me, for perhaps you are more a gentleman than I.’ Then he raised him by the hand and said to him, 'Many thanks to my lady Blanchefleur, your mistress, to whom it pleases to do me so much honour without my having deserved it, and I consider myself very rich in possessing her love and good will and will be her knight as long as I live. These noble presents also I receive with pleasure; not that I am worthy of them or have a right to obtain them, but to obey her commands; for well do I know that there are many others who have done better than I, and the prize is rather due to them.’ 'Sir,’ said the squire, you will say what you please, but at the same time, the prize is given you by both parties. Therefore tell me what
33 ing to appearance, was much occupied with his servants and often charged them to take care that everything should be well conducted. And when he was near him, he greeted him very courteously, and the knight answered that he was welcome there. 'Fair sir,’ said the squire, 'could you give me news of a knight who this day bore arms at the tournament paled or and azure?’ "Wherefore do you ask?’ said the knight. 'In the name of God,’ said the squire, 'for his great advantage and honour; and I will tell him such things as will give him great pleasure.’ 'Then,’ said the knight, 'I will tell you what I know; but dismount, both you and your company, and tell me, if it does not displease you, who you are and who sent you here; for it appears to me that you are come upon a mes sage, and I will willingly tell you where he is.’ 'Sir,’ said he, 'know that I am called Gaultier de Montblanc, and am cousin to the emperor; and his beautiful eldest daughter Blanchefleur, for whom the tournament was made, sends me upon this errand.’ 'In the name of God, sir,’ said he, 'you are very welcome.’ Then the knight took him by the hand and said to him that he would directly conduct him to see that person whom he had so much sought for; and they went, those two together, and the others after them, until they came to the hall where they found Sir Guy, who was dressed and apparelled because he had heard that a messenger was come to speak to him. And when the host saw him he said, 'Sir, now you may see the good knight, him whom you seek for.’
H oisj the messenger of blanchefleur brought the falcon to (Bug tohicft she sent him, toith the other presents, telling him that she greatlg desired to see him ^
MB
% hen
G a u ltie r
h eard t h a t it
I B was him whom he sought, he ad^ / vanced toward him with the falcon on his fist and knelt before him, and said, 'Sir, may God increase your honour and merit ac cording to your noble beginning. My lady Blanchefleur, the daughter of the Emperor, sends me to you; she greets you and presents you first by me, her love and good will, as to him whom she holds dearer than all other knights; she sends you (as to him who in her sight, and that of the ladies of the company, has done best today on the ground) this falcon, these two good white greyhounds, and this horse, which is of great value; and she gives you the prize of honour of this day and desires much to see you/ ‘Sir,’ said he, 'arise; it is not right that you should kneel before me, for perhaps you are more a gentleman than I.’ Then he raised him by the hand and said to him, 'Many thanks to my lady Blanchefleur, your mistress, to whom it pleases to do me so much honour without my having deserved it, and I consider myself very rich in possessing her love and good will and will be her knight as long as I live. These noble presents also I receive with pleasure; not that I am worthy of them or have a right to obtain them, but to obey her commands; for well do I know that there are many others who have done better than I, and the prize is rather due to them.’ 'Sir,’ said the squire, you will say what you please, but at the same time, the prize is given you by both parties. Therefore tell me what
34
ft Guy of Warwick
you wish me to say to my lady Blanchefleur, for it is time for me to begin my journey.’ 'Oh, sir!’ said Sir Guy, 'that you will not do, if you please, but stay this night with my host, who will give you good entertainment; and in the morning— as I see you are young and well formed for great deeds, and it seems to me pity that you should not be a knight, as you are of sufficient years— for the love of your mistress I will give you such arms as I bear.’ 'Oh, sir! Speak no more of this,’ said the squire, 'for I did not come here for this purpose nor, without the permission of my lady, dare I do it. But many thanks to you; and know that I will boast much of your courtesy to her.’ Then he took leave of him and prayed him, on the part of the lady, not to leave the country until he had seen and spoken with her. And Guy told him that if he had not an affair which obliged him to travel in great haste, truly he would not depart until he was well acquainted with the Emperor her father and with her and her noble company; but now it must be otherwise, and as soon as he was able, he would return to see him. Then the messenger departed and went back to his mistress Blanchefleur, who received him at his arrival with great joy and enquired of him all the news; and he replied so much and so well that it pleased her greatly to hear both the thanks and greeting which Guy sent her by him; and she said that if he lived, he would surpass all of his time in beauty and virtue. That night much was said among those of the court concerning the knight of the shield paled or and azure who had fought so bravely, and all spoke well of him; and the Emperor himself, who was of very great prowess, con sidered himself very unfortunate not to know his name, and whence he came; until the Duke of Cessoigne, who was then sitting at the feet of the Emperor, spoke, and said, 'By the Holy Cross, I am well able to tell you that, but it cost
me a good deal to learn it, for he struck me off my horse today so fiercely that truly I thought my neck was broken.’ Then the Emperor and all the others began to laugh at that saying; and he replied and said, as to laughing, 'In the name of God, those laugh now who today made way for him at the tournament, but I take it in the right sense, for it is not good to quarrel.’ Then he turned towards the Emperor and said to him, 'Sir, know that he of whom we are speaking is called Sir Guy of Warwick, and is a very young knight of the country of England.’ By these words of the Duke of Cessoigne, as I have told you, the name of Sir Guy was first known at the court of the Emperor, and that it was he who had conquered at the tournament. But history quits all this for the present, and is silent concerning it, and returns to Sir Guy to shew how he acted after the messenger of the daughter of the Emperor had departed from him.
Hot» (Bug sent ttoo servants into England to take the presents tohich blanchefleur had made him, that is to sag, the falcon to his ladg Jfelicia, and to £ari ‘R oalt the palfreg and the ttao greghounds G a u l t ie r
I
the yo ung g en -
I tleman had left Sir Guy, as I have related to you, the host was very joyful at what he had heard, and said that God had given him great honour to lodge in his house so noble a knight of such high prowess. So he took great pains that night to serve him
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ft Guy of Warwick
you wish me to say to my lady Blanchefleur, for it is time for me to begin my journey.’ 'Oh, sir!’ said Sir Guy, 'that you will not do, if you please, but stay this night with my host, who will give you good entertainment; and in the morning— as I see you are young and well formed for great deeds, and it seems to me pity that you should not be a knight, as you are of sufficient years— for the love of your mistress I will give you such arms as I bear.’ 'Oh, sir! Speak no more of this,’ said the squire, 'for I did not come here for this purpose nor, without the permission of my lady, dare I do it. But many thanks to you; and know that I will boast much of your courtesy to her.’ Then he took leave of him and prayed him, on the part of the lady, not to leave the country until he had seen and spoken with her. And Guy told him that if he had not an affair which obliged him to travel in great haste, truly he would not depart until he was well acquainted with the Emperor her father and with her and her noble company; but now it must be otherwise, and as soon as he was able, he would return to see him. Then the messenger departed and went back to his mistress Blanchefleur, who received him at his arrival with great joy and enquired of him all the news; and he replied so much and so well that it pleased her greatly to hear both the thanks and greeting which Guy sent her by him; and she said that if he lived, he would surpass all of his time in beauty and virtue. That night much was said among those of the court concerning the knight of the shield paled or and azure who had fought so bravely, and all spoke well of him; and the Emperor himself, who was of very great prowess, con sidered himself very unfortunate not to know his name, and whence he came; until the Duke of Cessoigne, who was then sitting at the feet of the Emperor, spoke, and said, 'By the Holy Cross, I am well able to tell you that, but it cost
me a good deal to learn it, for he struck me off my horse today so fiercely that truly I thought my neck was broken.’ Then the Emperor and all the others began to laugh at that saying; and he replied and said, as to laughing, 'In the name of God, those laugh now who today made way for him at the tournament, but I take it in the right sense, for it is not good to quarrel.’ Then he turned towards the Emperor and said to him, 'Sir, know that he of whom we are speaking is called Sir Guy of Warwick, and is a very young knight of the country of England.’ By these words of the Duke of Cessoigne, as I have told you, the name of Sir Guy was first known at the court of the Emperor, and that it was he who had conquered at the tournament. But history quits all this for the present, and is silent concerning it, and returns to Sir Guy to shew how he acted after the messenger of the daughter of the Emperor had departed from him.
Hot» (Bug sent ttoo servants into England to take the presents tohich blanchefleur had made him, that is to sag, the falcon to his ladg Jfelicia, and to £ari ‘R oalt the palfreg and the ttao greghounds G a u l t ie r
I
the yo ung g en -
I tleman had left Sir Guy, as I have related to you, the host was very joyful at what he had heard, and said that God had given him great honour to lodge in his house so noble a knight of such high prowess. So he took great pains that night to serve him
35
and that nothing might be wanting which was convenient for the comfort of man. The next day betimes Guy called two of his servants, prudent and well taught, in whom he greatly confided and spoke to them thus: 'You shall go to England and present to my lord the Earl Roalt this palfrey and these two grey hounds, to my lady Felicia this white falcon, and commend me to them, and tell them in what manner I have acquired them, and of my condition and such things as seem good to you; and as you are acquainted with my concerns, you shall hasten to return to that place where you shall know I am.’ And they said that they would do his orders. Then they began their journey and did not desist from travelling till they came to the sea; and they crossed it as soon as the wind was favorable. And they went on till they arrived at Warwick, which was then a good and strong town. There they found Earl Roalt sitting among his household. And they knelt before him, and gave him the presents from Sir Guy, their lord. And when he heard this news and the country where Sir Guy was, and how by prowess he had acquired such honour, he could not have been more rejoiced if any one had given him a rich city. And also Sequart, his father, was so joyful that it would be mar vellous to relate it. And he had good reason to be so. And when the servants had delivered this message which all had joy in hearing, they went to the rooms of the lady Felicia, and pre sented to her the white falcon, with the tender words which Sir Guy their master sent her by them, and she received the present with great pleasure and was very proud of it. Then she asked how Guy was; and they told her he was well in health, thank God, and the most highly esteemed knight of his time who was then living in any country beyond sea. 'May God,’ said she, 'increase his honour as
I could desire.’ And then she gave each of the servants so much of her goods that they were in the battle for it all the days of their life. But here the history leaves off speaking of them and returns to Sir Guy and his company. The history says that after the two servants had left Sir Guy, the two whom he sent into England with the presents for Earl Roalt of Warwick, he remained with the knight in the wood, who delighted much in him until he and his people were sufficiently refreshed. And when they found themselves in a condition to travel, he took leave of his host and offered him and caused to be offered to him largely of his property, but he would take nothing because he considered himself greatly honoured, in that it had pleased Guy to lodge in his house and prayed him to stay there yet longer; but he said that he could not do it. So he departed, travers ing many countries and seeking adventures to prove himself and try his worth; nor did he hear of any court or tournament spoken of that he did not go to it, and all happened so well to him that he obtained the prize at every one, for which in his heart he often greatly thanked the honour of his lady, and said that if it was not for the power of love, he could not thus persist. In this year he made such efforts that he ex plored Lombardy, France and great part of Spain, and accomplished in that time many ad ventures and brought them to a conclusion, and all happened so well to him that he found nothing which was grievous for him to fulfil. Lastly, his exploits were so great that year among the regions aforesaid that he made him self known as one of the best of knights, and so greater reports were spread abroad of him than of any other knight who was known in any place.
36
|[ Guy of Warwick
foot» (5ug, alter he had been in Bormandg, returned into England and toajs joufullu received bg £arl Hoalt and bg his daughter jfelicia T CAME TO PASS, THAT AT THE END OF
£ 1 this time Guy took his way, where fortune led him, into Normandy. Then he drew near the city of Rouen, where he had formerly been, and abode with his host where he had lodged before, who received him very well. There was great fame spread through the city concerning him and his prowess, and also in the country round; and it plainly appeared to be so, for after it was known that he was arrived, every one came there to congratulate and greet him. One day, as he and Herolt his governor were conversing together, Herolt began to reason with him, and said to him, 'Sir, you have now laboured for a long time; and so much so that I thank God you are known and prized among all the most notable lords beyond sea, and by all the knighthood which inhabits these lands, on account of your good deeds. Therefore, it seems right to me that you should return into England at last to repose yourself, and see your friends, which I know is a thing which would be very welcome to you; and they, I believe, truly would have great joy in seeing you/ 'Sir/ said he, 'since it pleases you, I agree to it/ So there was no more to be said. The next day he took leave of his host and approached the sea, he and his company. And as soon as he could find a vessel ready, he went into it and passed over in a short time, inas much as they had favourable weather. And when he was arrived in England, he was told that the King was in London, his city. He went there without delay, and how he was there
received and feasted by the King and his barons at his arrival need not be related, for it would be too tedious a thing. But they made much of him, says the history, as if he had been the greatest emperor in the world. When he had remained a short time with the King, he took leave of him and went to see Earl Roalt his lord, and his father. The King, who knew well that it was a proper thing, granted him leave to depart. Then he went away after he had taken leave of the knights and barons of the court; and he hastened on till he arrived at Warwick, where he found his lord, who made such rejoicing and feasting at his coming that never had anyone seen him do so much for any man. He could not be satisfied with seeing and having him in his presence. His good father Sequart also, who was there, you may believe was sufficiently rejoiced in his heart at seeing him. But of all this joy and rejoicing, that which the fair Felicia his mistress granted him with when he came before her, was the greatest; for as soon as she saw him coming, she went to meet him and embraced him in her arms very tenderly, saying, 'You are welcome, fair and very gentle friend. How have you been since I saw you?' 'Lady/ said he, 'very well, thank God and you/ 'By Heaven/ said she, 'I am glad of it, and thank you with all my heart for the fine and gracious presents which sometime ago you sent from beyond sea to my father and me/ 'Certes/ said he, 'except according to your good pleasure, there are no thanks due, for the whole is yours/ 'Friend/ said she, 'you have well deserved them/ Thus they conversed and talked together till the hour came to withdraw, and Guy was obliged to leave her for that night. He took leave of her and went to his house, and when the next day came, and the time and
37
hour suited, as Felicia was privately in her room after dinner, he went to her and spoke to her thus: 'Ah Lady! through whom I retain life and honour, you know that by your noble com mand I first undertook to bear arms, and the gracious promises that it pleased you of your love to make me, upon condition that I should pass the sea and make myself renowned as amongst the valiant. Therefore, during and since that time I have everywhere sought for all the various adventures that I could anywhere hear of, and have so acted, thanks be to God and you, that I have accomplished them with honour, and I know well that I could not en dure such labour if it were not in the hope of your mercy; and, therefore, I am come before you, humbly to supplicate you, that you will be pleased to tell me your gracious will/ When Felicia had heard these words, she re mained for a little while thoughtful, and with out saying a word; then she heaved a sigh and said, 'Fair gentle friend, it it true, and I am certain that you have done so much for the love of me, that I am bound to wish you prosperity. And at all events, the honour of all your good deeds remains with you. As for the rest, you have not laboured so much or so long in honour but that there are others in this king dom as renowned in prowess as you are. But I verily think, and it is my hope, that if you will follow the employment of arms, God will grant you to surpass all those of your time in valorous achievements. And if the love of me should divert you from such honour, I should deserve to be cursed above all other women; and I so far know you that if you were allowed, I am sure your heart would be so much with me that you would quit all your great deeds. And this I say not to reject or send you away, but for the accomplishment of a vow which I have re cently made. It is true that I have heard so much related (thanks be to God) of your great merits that I know well, and do not doubt if
you will persevere, that you will surpass all the knights who are anywhere to be found. And in His hope, and because I know it is your wish to do and accomplish my will, I have promised to God that the gift of myself, and of my heart, shall be made to no one unless he is renowned as the best knight in the world, and surpasses all others in prowess. And since I cannot but hope, according to your good beginning, that you will arrive at such high degree as no one else can attain, I have made that vow to excuse myself to all those who seek me in marriage, of whom there are many—great barons and lords. And, nevertheless, you have no reason to fear or doubt my love, for all my life I shall prefer you above all others, and you have greatly deserved it, insomuch that no one but you can obtain from me any word or sign of love. When that befalls, may God let me live no longer. And in order that you may be sure of my wishes, I promise you that whatever may happen for the term of seven years from this day, no one except you shall obtain any interest in my love/ 'Lady,’ said he, 'many thanks. Now I know not what more to say to you except that your bargain seems to me at once so sweet and bitter, that I do not know which light to take it in. It is sweet to me when I consider your dear words of comfort and promise; and very bitter, inasmuch as I dare not imagine or think of becoming the best knight in the world. And certes, fair lady, it is a thing which may be considered in me as great rashness and mad presumption; nevertheless, your great kindness gives me such boldness that I will undertake the trial; and as for the rest, let it be with God and you; for even to death you shall never see me neglect to accomplish your commands, while body and life last me, and to save and increase my honour to my utmost. And if God and fortune will give me grace to arrive at such honour according to your noble promises, I
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