From Fabliaux or Tales, abridged from French Manuscripts of the XIIth and XIIIth Centuries by M. Le Grand, selected and translated into English Verse, by the late G. L. Way, Esq., with A Preface, Notes and Appendix, by the late G. Ellis, Esq., A New Edition, corrected in Three Volumes, Volume I, Printed for J. Rodwell, London; 1815; pp. 49-60, 166-172.
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IN days of yore, at least a century since,
There liv’d a carle as wealthy as a prince:
His name I wot not; but his wide domain
Was rich with stream and forest, mead and plain;
To crown the whole, one manor he possess’d
In choice delight so passing all the rest,
No castle burgh or city might compare
With the quaint beauties of that mansion rare.
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The sooth to say, I fear my words may seem
Like some strange fabling, or fantastick dream,
If, unadvis’d, the portraiture I trace,
And each brave pleasure of that peerless place;
Foreknow ye then, by necromantick might
Was rais’d this paradise of all delight;
A good knight own’d it first; he, bow’d with age,
Died, and his son possess’d the heritage:
But the lewd stripling, all to riot bent,
(His chattels quickly wasted and forespent,)
Was driven to see this patrimony sold
To the base carle of whom I lately told.
Ye wot right well there only needs be sought
One spendthrift heir, to bring great wealth to nought.
A lofty tower and strong, the building stood
Midst a vast plain surrounded by a flood;
And hence one pebble-paved channel stray’d,
That compass’d in a clustering orchard’s shade:
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’Twas a choice charming plat; abundant round
Flowers, roses, odorous spices cloth’d the ground;
Unnumber’d kinds, and all profusely shower’d
Such aromatick balsam as they flower’d,
Their fragrance might have stay’d man’s parting breath,
And chas’d the hovering agony of death.
The sward one level held, and close above
Tall shapely trees their leafy mantles wove,
All equal growth, and low their branches came,
Thick set with goodliest fruits of every name.
In midst, to cheer the ravish’d gazer’s view,
A gushing fount its waters upward threw,
Thence slowly on with crystal current pass’d,
And crept into the distant flood at last:
But nigh its source a pine’s umbrageous head
Stretch’d far and wide in deathless verdure spread,
Met with broad shade the summer’s sultry gleam,
And through the livelong year shut out the beam.
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Such was the scene: — yet still the place was bless’d
With one rare pleasure passing all the rest:
A wondrous bird of energies divine
Had fix’d his dwelling in the tufted pine;
There still he sat, and there with amorous lay
Wak’d the dim morn, and clos’d the parting day:
Match’d with these strains of linked sweetness wrought
The violin and full-ton’d harp were nought;
Of power they were with new-born joy to move
The cheerless heart of long-desponding love;
Of power so strange, that should they cease to sound,
And the blithe songster flee the mystick ground,
That goodly orchard’s scene, the pine-tree’s shade,
Trees, flowers, and found, would all like vapour face.
So sang the bird of old; but when he spied
The carle draw near, with alter’d tone he cried —
‘Back, river, to thy source! and thee, tall tower,
‘Thee, castle strong, may gaping earth devour!
‘Bend down your heads, ye gaudy flowers, and fade!
‘And wither’d be each fruit-tree’s mantling shade!
‘Beneath these beauteous branches once were seen
‘Brave gentle knights disporting on the green,
‘And lovely dames; and oft, these flowers among,
‘Stay’d the blithe bands, and joy’d to hear my song;
‘Nor would they hence retire, nor quit the grove,
‘Till many a vow were past of mutual love;
‘These more would cherish, those would more deserve;
‘Cost, courtesy, and arms, and nothing swerve.
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‘O bitter change! for master now we see
‘A faitour villain carle of low degree;
‘Foul gluttony employs his livelong day,
‘Nor heeds nor hears he my melodious lay.’
So spake the bird; and, as he ceas’d to sing,
Indignantly he clapp’d his downy wing,
And straight was gone; but no abasement stirr’d
In the clown’s breast at his reproachful word:
Bent was his wit alone by quaint device
To snare, and sell him for a passing price.
So well he wrought, so craftily he spread
In the thick foliage green his slender thread,
That when at eve the little songster sought
His wonted spray, his heedless foot was caught.
‘How have I harm’d you?’ straight he ’gan to cry,
‘And wherefore would you do me thus to die?’ —
‘Nay, fear not,’ quoth the clown, ‘for death or wrong:
‘I only seek to profit by thy song;
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‘I’ll get thee a fine cage, nor shalt thou lack
‘Good store of kernels and of seeds to crack;
‘But sing thou shalt; for if thou play’st the mute,
‘I’ll spit thee, bird, and pick thy bones to boot.’
‘Ah, wo is me!’ the little thrall replied,
‘Who thinks of song, in prison doom’d to bide?
‘And, were I cook’d, my bulk might scarce afford
‘One scanty mouthful to my hungry lord.’
What may I more relate? — the captive wight
Assay’d to melt the villain all he might;
And fairly promis’d, were he once set free,
In gratitude to teach him secrets three;
Three secrets, all so marvellous and rare,
His race knew nought that might with these compare.
The carle prick’d up his ears amain; he loos’d
The songster thrall, by love of gain seduc’d:
Up to the summit of the pine-tree’s shade
Sped the blithe bird, and there at ease he stay’d,
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And trick’d his plumes full leisurely, I trow,
Till the carle claim’d his promise from below:
‘Right gladly;’ quoth the bird; ‘now row thee wise:
‘All human prudence few brief lines comprize:
‘First then, lest haply in the event it fail,
‘YIELD NOT A READY FAITH TO EVERY TALE:’ —
‘Is this thy secret?’ quoth the moody elf,
‘Keep then thy silly lesson for thyself;
‘I need it not:’ — ‘Howbe ’tis not amiss
‘To prick thy memory with advice like this
‘But late, meseems, thou hadst forgot the lore;
‘Now may’st thou hold it fast for evermore.
‘Mark next my second rule, and sadly know,
‘WHAT’S LOST, ’TIS WISE WITH PATIENCE TO FOREGO.’
The carle, though rude of wit, now chaf’d amain;
He felt the mockery of the songster’s strain.
‘Peace,’ quoth the bird; ‘my third is far the best;
‘Store thou the precious treasure in thy breast:
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‘WHAT GOOD THOU HAT, NE’ER LIGHTLY FROM THEE CAST:’
— He spoke, and twittering fled away full fast.
Straight, sunk in earth, the gushing fountain dries,
Down fall the fruits, the wither’d pine-tree dies,
Fades all the beauteous plat, so cool, so green,
Into thin air, and never more is seen.
Such was the meed of avarice: — bitter cost!
The carle who all would gather, all has lost.
TYRWHITT defines a Lay to be ‘a species of serious narrative poetry, of a moderate length, in a simple style and light metre.’ It has been observed in the preface, that the Lay differed from the Fabliau in some circumstance of its musical accompaniment. In what this difference consisted it is perhaps impossible now to explain. From the uniform language of the minstrels it would seem that the Lays were sung from beginning to end, and that the Fabliaux were declaimed: yet M. Le Grand could not find any manuscripts of Lays accompanied by notes, while that of a very long Fabliau (Aucassin and Nicolette) is (in its metrical parts) noted throughout. See page 151, 152.
This tale, as M. Le Grand observes, seems to be imitated from Pilpay. In the Indian fable, a countryman is possessed of a rose-bush, which every day produces 167 a bud. A nightingale comes on several following days to peck the bud, and prevents its blowing. He is at length caught in a trap, but obtains his life by his entreaties, and out of gratitude indicates to the countryman a treasure hidden at the foot of the tree. In the English translations of Pilpay, the story varies somewhat from the above account.
Among Lydgate’s works Mr. Warton mentions a poem called the Charle and the Bird, translated from a pamflete in Frensche. This poem is also notice in Tyrwhitt’s introductory Discourse to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, § xxxviii. page 183; and is included in the list of Lydgate’s works appended to Speght’s Chaucer: but the translator has not the opportunity of ascertaining its relation to the French Fabliau.
The reader has already been referred in the preface to a collection of Fabliaux, published in 1756, from the manuscripts. As these volumes are scarce, and this is the first tale in the present work which will be found there, two or three occasional quotatins may not be unacceptable. — It opens thus: —
‘Il avint jadis à un temps.
‘Bien a passé plus de cent ans,
168
‘Qu’il estoit un riches vilains,
‘De son nom ne sui pas certains;
‘Mais riches iert de grant maniere
‘De prez, de bois, et de riviere,
‘De tout ce qu’affiert à ric e home;
‘Le dire vous en viel la somme.
‘Il avoit un manoir si bel,
‘N’a borc, n’a vile, n’a chastel;
‘Et se je vos en veil conter,
‘En tout le mont n’ot son per,
‘Ne si bel ne si delitable.
‘Li contes vos sembleroit fable,
‘Qui vous en diroit la façon;
‘Je ne cuit que jamais face on
‘Tel donjon, ne si riche tour.
‘La riviere couroit entour,
‘Qui tout enclooit le pourpris:
‘Dedens ot vergier de haut pris,
‘Qui d’yaue et d’air estoit enclos.
‘Cil qui le fist ne fu pas fos,
‘Ains fu un chevaliers gentis;
‘Aprés le pere l’ot li fis;
‘Puis le vendi à cel vilain;
‘Ainsis ala de main en main:
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‘Bien savez que par malvais hoir
‘Dechieent viles et manoir.
. . . . . . . . . .
‘Cil qui le fist fut moult sachans:
‘Il fu tos fais par nigromance,
‘Si faisoit-on mainte esprouvance.’
In justice to the reader and to M. Le Grand, it is proper, however, to remark, that the correspondence between his abridgements and the publication of 1756 will not always be found so exact as in the above instance. For this his preface furnishes the following satisfactory reason: — ‘In my examination of manuscripts,’ says he, ‘there were scarcely any Fabliaux of which I did not discover several copies, and these copies almost always differed from each other. Sometimes, indeed, they had nothing in common but the title; sometimes the foundation of the tale was the same when ever verse in it was different. — My practice has often been, therefore, following one copy principally, to transplant into it any pleasing additions or variations with which the other copies might furnish me.’
Page 53, Line 6. ‘And chas’d the hovering agony ‘of death.’
From this, and many other passages in the Fabliaux, 170 it appears that our ancestors attributed very extraordinary virtues to spices, and considered them as essential to luxury. Among the delights of the Land of Cokaygne (Warton, vol. I. page 10.) are the following: —
‘In the praer (field) is a tree
‘Swithe likeful for to se,\
‘The rote is gingeur and galingale,*
‘The siouns beth al sedwale.**
‘Trie maces beth the flure,
‘The rind, canel (cinnamon) of swete odure:
‘The frute, gilofre*** of gode smakke.’
Page 53, Line 18. ‘And through the livelong year ‘shut out the beam.’
A river, a fountain, a pine, a few flowers, and an orchard containing a mixture of fruit and forest trees, seem to have afforded all the materials which, in the opinion of our ancestors, were necessary for composing a beautiful garden. The pine was a particular favourite; every fountain in romance is shaded by them; and Charlemagne in his Capitularies, amongst 171 other directions for the management of his forest, particularly insists on the planting of fruit trees, laurels, and pines.
Page 54, Line 7. ‘Match’d with these strains of ‘linked sweetness wrought.’
See Milton’s l’Allegro, line 139:
‘In notes, with many a winding bout
‘Of linked sweetness long drawn out.’
Page 54, Line 15, to Line 5 of Page 55.
‘Listen, listen, to my lay!
. . . . . . . . . . . .
‘Hear, and heed me, and be bless’d!’
The original is as follows: —
‘Li oisiax dist en son latin****
“Entendez (fait il) à mon lai
“Et chevalier et clerc et lai
“Qui vous entremetez d’amors,
“Et qui en souffrez les dolors:
“Et à vos le di, damoiselles,
“Qui i estes avenans et beles,”
. . . . . . . . . . .
M. Le Grand has suppressed the remainder of this 172 song, in which the bird recommends great fervency in devotion and in love; God, he says, hates those hearts which are hard and hypocritical: so does Love. God suffers himself to be softened by prayer: so does Love. In short, he assures us that by serving both with zeal we shall ensure happiness in this world and the joys of paradise in the next. Froissart, the historian, who has left a large collection of amorous poems, informs us in his preface, that he undertook to compose them with the help of God and of Love.
Page 55, Line 6. . . . . . ‘but wehen he spied
‘The carle draw near’ — ‘qui fel et convoitous estoit,’
‘With alter’d tone he cried —
“Car laisse ton corre riviere!
“Donions, manoirs, tors, car dechiez!
“Matissiez flors! herbes sechiez!
“Arbres car lessiez le porter!
“Ci se souloient deporter
“Gentis dames et chevalier,
“Qui la fontaine avoient chier,
“Qui a mon chant se delitoient,
“Et par amors miex en amoient:
“Si en faisoient les largesces,
“Les cortoisies, les prouesces
“Maintenoient chevaleries: &c.:”
* Sweet cyperus.
** The herb seduwal or valerian.
*** The same with clowe gilofre (clou de girofle-French); the clove.
**** The word latin seems to have been used by the early French writers as equivalent to language in its widest signification. See La Combe’s Dict. du Vieux Langage.