The Romance of Morien
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Jessie L. Weston >> The Romance of Morien
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ARTHURIAN ROMANCES
Unrepresented in Malory's "Morte d'Arthur"
No. IV.
MORIEN ARTHURIAN ROMANCES
UNREPRESENTED IN MALORY'S "MORTE D'ARTHUR"
I. SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT.
A Middle-English Romance retold in Modern Prose, with Introduction and
Notes, by JESSIE L. WESTON. With Designs by M. M. CRAWFORD. 1898. 2s.
net.
II. TRISTAN AND ISEULT.
Rendered into English from the German of Gottfried of Strassburg by
JESSIE L. WESTON. With Designs by CAROLINE WATTS. Two vols. 1899. 4s.
net.
III. GUINGAMOR, LANVAL, TYOLET, LE BISCLAVERET.
Four Lays rendered into English Prose from the French of Marie de France
and others by JESSIE L. WESTON. With Designs by CAROLINE WATTS. 1900.
2s. net. [Illustration: They deemed they had seen the Foul Fiend
himself]
MORIEN
A Metrical Romance rendered into English prose from the Mediĉval Dutch
by Jessie L. Weston, with designs by Caroline Watts. Preface
The metrical romance of which the following pages offer a prose
translation is contained in the mediĉval Dutch version of the
_Lancelot_, where it occupies upwards of five thousand lines, forming
the conclusion of the first existing volume of that compilation. So far
as our present knowledge extends, it is found nowhere else.
Nor do we know the date of the original poem, or the name of the author.
The Dutch MS. is of the commencement of the fourteenth century, and
appears to represent a compilation similar to that with which Sir Thomas
Malory has made us familiar, _i.e._, a condensed rendering of a number
of Arthurian romances which in their original form were independent of
each other. Thus, in the Dutch _Lancelot_ we have not only the latter
portion of the _Lancelot_ proper, the _Queste_, and the _Morte Arthur_,
the ordinary component parts of the prose _Lancelot_ in its most fully
developed form, but also a portion of a _Perceval_ romance, having for
its basis a version near akin to, if not identical with, the poem
of Chrétien de Troyes, and a group of episodic romances, some of
considerable length, the majority of which have not yet been discovered
elsewhere. [Footnote: _Cf_. my _Legend of Sir Lancelot du Lac_;
Grimm Library, vol. xii., chapter ix., where a brief summary of the
contents of the Dutch _Lancelot_ is given.]
Unfortunately, the first volume of this compilation, which was
originally in four parts, has been lost; consequently we are without any
of the indications, so often to be found in the opening lines of similar
compositions, as to the personality of the compiler, or the material at
his disposal; but judging from those sections in which comparison is
possible, the _Lancelot_, _Queste_, and _Morte Arthur_, the entire work
is a translation, and a very faithful translation, of a French original.
It is quite clear that the Dutch compiler understood his text well, and
though possibly somewhat hampered by the necessity of turning prose into
verse (this version, contrary to the otherwise invariable rule of the
later _Lancelot_ romances, being rhymed), he renders it with remarkable
fidelity. The natural inference, and that drawn by M. Gaston Paris,
who, so far, appears to be the only scholar who has seriously occupied
himself with this interesting version, is that those episodic romances,
of which we possess no other copy, are also derived from a French
source. Most probably, so far as these shorter romances are concerned,
the originals would be metrical, not prose versions, as in the case of
the _Lancelot_ sections.
It is true that with regard to the romance here translated, _Morien_,
the Dutch scholars responsible for the two editions in which it has
appeared, MM. Jonckbloet and Te Winkel, the former the editor of the
whole compilation, the latter of this section only, are both inclined to
regard the poem as an original Dutch composition; but M. Gaston Paris,
in his summary of the romance (_Histoire Litteraire_, vol. xxx. p. 247)
rejects this theory as based on inadequate grounds. It must be admitted
that an original Arthurian romance of the twelfth or thirteenth century,
when at latest such a poem would be written, in a language other than
French, is so far unknown to us; and although as a matter of fact the
central _motif_ of the poem, the representation of a Moor as near akin
to the Grail Winner, Sir Perceval, has not been preserved in any known
French text, while it does exist in a famous German version, I for one
find no difficulty in believing that the tradition existed in French,
and that the original version of our poem was a metrical romance in that
tongue.
So far as the story of _Morien_ is concerned, the form is probably later
than the tradition it embodies. In its present shape it is certainly
posterior to the appearance of the Galahad _Queste_, to which it
contains several direct references; such are the hermit's allusion to
the predicted circumstances of his death, which are related in full in
the _Queste_; the prophecy that Perceval shall "aid" in the winning
of the Holy Grail, a quest of which in the earlier version he is sole
achiever; and the explicit statements of the closing lines as to
Galahad's arrival at Court, his filling the Siege Perilous, and
achieving the Adventures of the Round Table. As the romance now stands
it is an introduction to the _Queste_, with which volume iii. (volume
ii. of the extant version) of the Dutch _Lancelot_ opens.
But the opening lines of the present version show clearly that in
one important point, at least, the story has undergone a radical
modification. Was it the Dutch translator or his source who substituted
Agloval, Perceval's brother, for the tradition which made Perceval
himself the father of the hero? M. Gaston Paris takes the former view;
but I am inclined to think that the alteration was already in the
French source. The Grail of Sir Agloval's vision is the Grail of Castle
Corbenic and the _Queste_; unless we are to consider this vision as the
addition of the Dutch compiler (who, when we are in a position to test
his work does not interpolate such additions), we must, I think, admit
that the romance in the form in which it reached him was already at a
stage in which Perceval could not, without violence to the then existing
conception of his character, be considered as the father, or the
brother, of Morien. To reconstruct the original story it would be
necessary not merely to eliminate all mention of Agloval, as suggested
by M. Gaston Paris, but the Grail references would also require
modification. As it stands, the poem is a curious mixture of conflicting
traditions.
In this connection it appears to me that the evidence of the _Parzival_
is of primary importance; the circumstances attending the birth of
Feirefis are exactly parallel with those of Morien--in both a Christian
knight wins the love of a Moorish princess; in both he leaves her before
the birth of her son, in the one case with a direct, in the other with
a conditional, promise to return, which promise is in neither instance
kept; in both the lad, when grown to manhood, sets out to seek his
father; in both he apparently makes a practice of fighting with every
one whom he meets; in the one version he is brother, in the other son or
nephew, to Perceval. The points of difference are that whereas Morien is
black all over, save his teeth, Feirefis is parti-coloured, black and
white--a curious conception, which seems to point to an earlier
stage of thought; Morien is a Christian, Feirefis a heathen--the more
probable version.
It is easy to understand why the hero ceased to be considered Perceval's
son--the opening lines of the poem describe the situation perfectly; but
I do not think it has been sufficiently realised that precisely the same
causes which would operate to the suppression of this relationship would
equally operate to the suppression of that of the _Parzival_. Perceval,
the virgin winner of the Grail, could not have a _liaison_ with a
Moorish princess, but neither could Perceval's father, the direct
descendant of Joseph of Arimathea, and hereditary holder of the Grail.
The _Early History_ of that talisman, as related by Robert de Borron,
once generally accepted, the relationship of _brother_ was as impossible
as that of _son_.
It seems clear that if a genuine tradition of a Moor as near kinsman to
Perceval really existed--and I see no reason to doubt that it did--it
must have belonged to the Perceval story prior to the development of
the Grail tradition, _e.g._, to such a stage as that hinted at by the
chess-board adventure of the "Didot" _Perceval_ and Gautier's poem, when
the hero was as ready to take advantage of his _bonnes fortunes_ as
other heroes of popular folk tales.
Further, judging from these stories it would seem probable that the
requisite modification began with the earlier generation, _i.e._,
Perceval himself still retaining traces of his secular and folk-tale
origin, while his father and mother have already been brought under the
influence of the ecclesiasticised Grail tradition. That this would be
the case appears only probable when we recall the vague and conflicting
traditions as to the hero's parentage; it was Perceval himself, and not
his father or his mother, who was the important factor in the tale;
hence the change in his character was a matter of gradual evolution.
Thus I am of opinion that the Moor as Perceval's brother is likely to be
an earlier conception than the Moor as Perceval's son. It is, I think,
noticeable that the romance containing this feature, the _Parzival_,
also, contrary to the _Early History_ versions, connects him with the
Grail through his mother, instead of through his father.
The _Morien_ is for me a welcome piece of evidence in support of the
theory that sees in the poem of Wolfram von Eschenbach the survival of
a genuine variant of the _Perceval_ story, differing in important
particulars from that preserved by Chrétien de Troyes, and based upon a
French original, now, unfortunately, lost.
For this, if for no other reason, the poem would, it seems to me, be
worth introducing to a wider circle of readers than that to which in its
present form it can appeal. The students of old Dutch are few in number,
and the bewildering extent of the _Lancelot_ compilation, amounting as
it does, even in its incomplete state, to upwards of 90,000 lines, is
sufficient in itself to deter many from its examination. _Morien_ in its
original form is, and can be, known to but few. But not only does it
represent a tradition curious and interesting in itself, it has other
claims to attention; even in a translation it is by no means ill
written; it is simple, direct, and the adventures are not drawn out
to wearisome length by the introduction of unnecessary details. The
characterisation too, is good; the hero is well realised, and Gawain,
in particular, appears in a most favourable light, one far more in
accordance with the earlier than with the later stage of Arthurian
tradition; the contrast between his courteous self-restraint and the
impetuous ardour of the young savage is well conceived, and the manner
in which he and Gareth contrive to check and manage the turbulent
youth without giving him cause for offence is very cleverly indicated.
Lancelot is a much more shadowy personage; if, as suggested above, the
original story took shape at a period before he had attained to his
full popularity, and references to his valour were added later we can
understand this. It is noticeable that the adventure assigned to him is
much less original in character, and told with far less detail than that
ascribed to Gawain.
The romance as we have it presents, as remarked before, a curious
mixture of earlier and later elements. None of the adventures it relates
are preserved in any English text. Alike as a representative of a lost
tradition, and for its own intrinsic merit it has seemed to me, though
perhaps inferior in literary charm to the romances previously published
in this series, to be yet not unworthy of inclusion among them.
BOURNEMOUTH, _July_ 1901 Morien _Herein doth the adventure tell of a
knight who was named Morien. Some of the books give us to wit that he
was Perceval's son, and some say that he was son to Agloval, who was
Perceval's brother, so that he was nephew unto that good knight. Now we
find it written for a truth that Perceval and Galahad alike died virgin
knights in the quest of the Holy Grail; and for that cause I say of
Perceval that in sooth he was not Morien's father, but that rather was
Morien his brother's son. And of a Moorish princess was he begotten at
that time when Agloval sought far and wide for Lancelot, who was lost,
as ye have read here afore._
_I ween that he who made the tale of Lancelot and set it in rhyme
forgot, and was heedless of, the fair adventure of Morien. I marvel much
that they who were skilled in verse and the making of rhymes did not
bring the story to its rightful ending._ Now as at this time King Arthur
abode in Britain, and held high court, that his fame might wax the
greater; and as the noble folk sat at the board and ate, there came
riding a knight; for 'twas the custom in Arthur's days that while the
king held court no door, small nor great, should be shut, but all men
were free to come and go as they willed.
Thus the knight came riding where the high folk sat, and would fain have
dismounted, but so sorely was he wounded that he might not do so. In
sooth he was in evil case, for he had more than ten wounds, and from the
least of them a man might scarce recover; he came in such guise that his
weapons and his vesture and his steed, which was fair and tall, were
all dyed red with his own blood. The knight was sad at heart and sorely
wounded, yet he greeted, as best he might, all the lords then in the
hall; but more he might not speak, for the pain of his wounds.
Then my lord, Sir Gawain, who did full many a courtesy (for such was his
wont all his life long), so soon as he saw the knight, sprang up with no
delay, and lifted him from the saddle and set him upon the ground, but
he might neither sit, nor walk, nor so much as stand upon his feet, but
fell upon the earth.
Then Sir Gawain bade them carry him softly on a couch to the side of the
hall in the sight of the chief guests, that they might hear his tale.
But since he might scarce speak he made him to be disarmed, and stripped
to the skin, and wrapped in warm coverings and gave him a sop
steeped in clear wine.
Then Sir Gawain began to search his wounds, for in those days, so far
as God suffered the sun to shine might no man find one so skilled in
leech-craft, for that man whom he took in his care, were the life but
left in him, would neither lack healing nor die of any wound.
Then spake the knight who lay there: "Woe is me, for I may neither eat
nor drink; my heart beginneth to sink, mine eyes fail me, methinks I am
about to die! Yet might I live, and would God grant to me that all ye
who sit here beside me might hear my words, I had fain spoken with the
king, whom I sought as best I might, in that I would not be forsworn;
needs must I come hither!"
Then quoth Sir Gawain the good: "Sir Knight, have ye no dread of death
as at this time, for I shall help you to a respite." He drew forth from
his pouch a root that had this virtue, that it stayed the flow of blood
and strengthened the feeble; he placed it in the knight's mouth, and
bade him eat a little; therewith was his heart lightened, and he began
to eat and to drink, and forgat somewhat of his pain.
Erst when the service was ended came King Arthur to the knight as he
lay, and said: "God give ye good-day, dear Sir Knight; tell me who hath
wounded ye so sorely, and how came ye by your hurt? Did the knight who
wrought such harm depart from ye unscathed?"
Then spake the knight to the king, who stood before him: "That will I
tell ye, for I am sworn and pledged thereto. 'Tis seven years past that
I lost all my goods, and poverty pressed me so sorely that I knew not
what I might do. Thus would I keep myself by robbery. My tithes had I
sold, I had spent all my goods, and pledged all my heritage, so that of
all that my father left when he departed from this world there remained
to me nothing. Naught, not a straw, had I left. Yet had I given much in
largesse, for I had frequented many a tourney and Table Round where I
had scattered my goods; whosoever craved aught of me, whether for want
or for reward, were he page, were he messenger, never did he depart
empty-handed. Never did I fail any who besought aid of me. Thus I spent
all my goods. Then must I fare through the land; and did I meet folk
(though at first I shamed me) whomsoever I met, whether pilgrim or
merchant, did he bear goods or money with him, so did I deal with him
that I won it for myself. But little might escape me. I have done many
an evil deed! Now is it three days past since, as I fared on my way, a
knight met me, and I deemed his steed so good that I coveted it above
all things, but when I laid hands upon the bridle and bade the knight
dismount then was he ready with his sword and repaid me with such a blow
that I forgot who I was and all that had befallen me; so fierce was the
stroke he dealt me! And though I betook me to arms they profited me not
a jot; his blows were so heavy, they weighed even as lead. He pierced
through my harness, as ye may see in many places, smiting through flesh
and bone. But from me did he receive no blow that might turn to his
loss. Therefore must I yield myself to him, and swear by my troth, would
I save my life, to come hither to ye as swiftly as I might, and delay no
whit, but yield me your prisoner. And this have I now done, and I yield
myself to your grace, Sir King, avowing my misdeeds that I have wrought
in this world, whether in thought or deed."
Then quoth the king: "Wit ye well who he was, and how he was hight, who
sent ye hither? Of what fashion was his steed, and what tokens did he
bear?"
And the knight answered: "Of that ye would ask me may I tell ye naught,
save only that the knight's steed and armour were red as blood, and he
seemed to me of Wales by his speech, and by all I might discern of him.
Thereto is he of such might that I ween his equal may scarce be found in
Christendom; that may I also say in truth, since such ill chance befell
me that I met with him when my intent was evil, and not good."
Then King Arthur cried aloud that all might hear him, that the knight
was surely none other than Sir Perceval. He tore his hair, and demeaned
himself as one sorely vexed, and spake: "Though I be lord of riches yet
may I say that I am friendless! This may I say forsooth; since I lost
Perceval, and the ill chance befell me that he had the will and the
desire to seek the Grail and the spear (which he may not find) many a
wounded knight hath he sent as captive to my court, whom, for their
misdoing, he hath vanquished by his might. Ever shall he be thanked
therefor. Now have I no knight so valiant of mind that for my sake will
seek Perceval and bring him to court. Yet I and my court and my country
alike are shamed and dishonoured in that we have so long lacked his
presence, and for this am I above measure sorrowful."
Then spake Sir Kay the seneschal: "God-wot I shall fetch Perceval,
whether he will or no, and bring hither to court him whom ye praise so
highly, and believe me well, were he wrought of iron, by the God who
made me I will bring him living or dead! Does this content ye, my lord
king?"
Then stood Arthur and laughed aloud, and likewise did all the knights
who heard Sir Kay speak. And the king said: "Sir Kay, let this talk be;
ye should of right be shamed when ye hear the Welshman's name! Have ye
altogether forgot how ye boasted yourself aforetime, even as ye have now
done, and then how ye met Perceval, whom ye had scarce sought? There
were ye ill-counselled; ye thought to bring him without his will,
but the knight was not so feeble, he gave ye a blow that brake your
collar-bone and thrust ye from your steed, feet upward, with little
honour! Had he so willed he had slain ye. Idle boasting is great shame.
An I hear ye make further boast of seeking knights I shall owe ye small
thanks. Little would he heed your compelling! In such quest must another
ride would I be comforted by the coming of this knight!"
Quoth Sir Gawain, "Ye mind me of an old saying, Sir Kay, how if some men
grow old, and God should spare them even to an hundred years, then would
they be but the more foolish--such an one, methinks, are ye! Now believe
ye my tale; did ye once find Perceval, an ye thought to say to him other
than he chose to hear, by the Lord above us ye dare not do it for the
king's crown, who is lord of this land, he would put ye to such great
shame! Of long time, and full well, do I know his ways! When he is well
entreated, and men do naught to vex him, then is he gentle as a lamb,
but an ye rouse him to wrath then is he the fiercest wight of God's
making--in such wise is he fashioned. Gentle and courteous is he to all
the world, rich and poor, so long as men do him no wrong, but let his
temper be changed, and nowhere shall ye find his fellow!"
After this manner also spake Sir Lancelot, and all who were in the hall
took up the word of Sir Gawain, and praised Perceval. But there were
many in the court heavy at heart, and sore vexed with the king their
lord for that he held them so cheap.
Quoth the Father of Adventure, "By the might of our Lord, and by His
name, who ruleth in heaven, henceforth I will not rest in one place more
than one night or two, but will ride ever till I have found Perceval, or
learnt certain tidings of his doings; and I will bring him to court an
he be minded to ride with me--further will I not vaunt myself."
Then spake Arthur, "God wot, here have I both joy and sorrow. Fain am I
to behold Perceval, an such fortune befall me, and ill may I spare thee.
Thus have I joy and sorrow. Yet, nephew, trow me well, I were loth to
bid thee break thine oath; now, therefore, make ready as befits thee,
and depart as swiftly as may be, and seek me Perceval."
With these words up sprang Sir Lancelot of the Lake, and stepped
forward, and spake, and said he would adventure himself and take what
fortune should send, and go seek Perceval hither and thither through all
lands; "And may I but find that proud knight, an it lieth in my power,
hither will I bring him! Now will I make me ready, and ride hence
without longer tarrying; methinks, from the king's word, an he have
Perceval he shall be freed from care--so will I ride hence for his
honour."
Quoth Arthur the king: "Sir Lancelot, of this thing it behoves ye take
better rede; lightly might it turn to my shame if all my knights rode
forth, and I thereafter were beset with strife and warfare, as full oft
hath chanced aforetime! So might it in sooth be mine undoing. It hath
chanced afore this that I had lost crown and lands, save for my knights;
by them have I been victorious!"
Quoth Sir Lancelot: "By the Lord who made me, and who shall be
Doom's-man at the last day, come what may thereof, since Sir Gawain
rideth hence 'tis not I will bide behind! Rather will I try what may
chance, and adventure all that God hath given me, for he sought me with
all his power when I was in secret case, and brought me once more to
court--for that do I owe him faith and fellowship."
Then they all wept, wives and maidens, knights and squires, when they
knew Sir Lancelot would ride thence.
Sir Gawain, who forgat not the wounded knight and his need of healing,
went to him as he lay, and bound up his wounds, and so tended him at
that time that he was healed ere long--needs must he be healed, even
against his will, on whom Sir Gawain laid hands. All they of the court
were sad and sorry at their departing; that eve they ate but little, for
thinking of the knights who should ride forth with the morning.
But now will we be silent on their lamentations, and tell henceforth of
Sir Gawain and Sir Lancelot, who rode both on their way.
* * * * *
The adventure doeth us to wit that in the morning, so soon as it was
day, they rode forth together through many a waste land, over many a
heath and high hill, adown many a valley to seek Sir Perceval, but
little did it profit them, for of him might they learn naught. Thus were
they sorely vexed.
On the ninth day there came riding towards them a knight on a goodly
steed, and well armed withal. He was all black, even as I tell ye: his
head, his body, and his hands were all black, saving only his teeth. His
shield and his armour were even those of a Moor, and black as a raven.
He rode his steed at full gallop, with many a forward bound. When he
beheld the knights, and drew nigh to them, and the one had greeted the
other, he cried aloud to Sir Lancelot: "Knight, now give me to wit of
one thing which I desire, or guard ye against my spear. The truth will I
know. I shall tell ye herewith my custom; what knight soever I may meet,
were he stronger than five men, and I knew it well, yet would I not hold
my hand for fear or favour, but he should answer me, or I should fight
against him. Now, Sir Knight, give me answer, by your troth, so truly as
ye know, to that which I shall ask ye, and delay not, otherwise may ye
well rue it!"
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