The Lais of Marie De France
Marie de France
Written in the late 1100s C.E.
France (Anglo-Norman)
In her works, the author states that her name is Marie, and she is from France. No other detail about the author’s life is known, although there are quite a few educated guesses about her possible ties to various royal courts. Marie writes in Anglo-Norman (a version of medieval French), and she says that her lais are versions of oral tales told by Breton minstrels (from Brittany, on the coast of France).
Her lais are some of the earliest forms of courtly love literature that survive, influencing later knightly romances (such as Sir Launfal), stories of King Arthur’s knights (such as Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival), and certain stories in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales (in particular, the Franklin’s Tale, which is itself based on a Breton lai).
Written by Laura J. Getty
The Lais of Marie de France
Marie de France, translated by Eugene Mason
License: Public Domain
TheLayofGuigemar
Hearken, oh gentles, to the words of Marie. When the minstrel tells his tale, let the folk about the fire heed him willingly. For his part the singer must be wary not to spoil good music with unseemly words. Listen, oh lordlings, to the words of Marie, for she pains herself grievously not to forget this thing. The craft is hard—then approve the more sweetly him who carols the tune. But this is the way of the world, that when a man or woman sings more tunably[1] than his fellows, those about the fire fall upon him, pell-mell, for reason of their envy. They rehearse diligently the faults of his song, and steal away his praise with evil words. I will brand these folk as they deserve. They, and such as they, are like mad dogs—cowardly and felon—who traitorously bring to death men better than themselves. Now let the japer, and the smiler with his knife, do me what harm they may. Verily they are in their right to speak ill of me.
Hearken, oh gentles, to the tale I set before you, for thereof the Bretons already have made a Lay. I will not do it harm by many words, and here is the commencement of the matter. According to text and scripture, now I relate a certain adventure, which bechanced in the realm of Brittany, in days long gone before.
In that time when Arthur maintained his realm, the now in peace, the now in war, the King counted amongst his vassals a certain baron, named Oridial. This knight was lord of Leon, and was very near to his prince’s heart, both in council chamber and in field. From his wife he had gotten two children, the one a son and the other a fair daughter. Nogent, he had called the damsel at the font, and the dansellon[2] was named Guigemar—no goodlier might be found in any realm. His mother had set all her love upon the lad, and his father shewed him every good that he was able. When the varlet was no more a child, Oridial sent him to the King, to be trained as a page in the courtesies of the Court. Right serviceable was he in his station, and meetly praised o