Part II: Anglo-Norman Literary Period, part of the Middle Ages Literary Period
Part II: Anglo-Norman Literary Period, part of the Middle Ages Literary Period
17
The Lay of Equitan: Marie’s introduction
NOBLE indeed were the barons,
Those of Brittany, the Bretons.
And long ago they would make
Fine lays for remembrance sake,
Tales enshrining great prowess,
Nobility, and courtliness,
Out of the adventures they heard
That to many a man occurred.
One they made, that I’ve heard told
For not a word was lost of old,
Of Equitan, that courteous king,
In Nantes, judge, lord of everything.
Equitan was deemed most worthy,
And much loved, in that country.
To love and hunting wed was he
For so they maintained chivalry.
Such do life neglect for pleasure;
Love has neither sense nor measure,
For herein is the measure of love,
That from it reason doth remove.
The Lay of Equitan: The Seneschal’s wife
NOW Equitan had a Seneschal,
A worthy knight, good and loyal,
And he watched over his estate,
As both steward and magistrate.
Except for war there was naught
Kept the king from what he sought,
His river-sport, and the hunting life.
Now the seneschal he had a wife,
One who brought that land great ill,
Yet she was very beautiful,
Possessed of every quality,
In manners both fine and courtly,
And of noble form and feature,
A true masterpiece of Nature;
Her eyes grey, lovely her face,
Fine mouth and nose, set with grace,
In that realm she had no peer,
Her praise oft reached the king’s ear.
Often he would send his greetings,
Gifts as well; without their meeting,
He desired her and, though unseen,
Wished to speak with her, I ween.
The Lay of Equitan: The King in love
TO amuse himself he, privately,
Pursued the chase in that country.
With the Seneschal he did stay,
And in that castle the lady lay;
There, slept the king that night,
Sated with hunting, his delight.
Now he might display his art,
Show his worth, reveal his heart.
He found her sage and courteous,
Lovely of face and form she was,
In her, warmth and manners met;
Amour had caught him in his net.
An arrow through him he’d shot,
A grievous wound was now his lot;
His heart pierced, through and through,
Wisdom and sense, away they flew.
He was so taken with the lady,
Quiet and pensive, he mused sadly;
Saw now where his folly might end,
While naught of it could he defend.
That night scant sleep had the king,
But blamed himself for everything.
‘Alas, what fate was this,’ said he,
‘That led me here, to this country?
Since for this lady, it did reveal,
Pure anguish in my heart I feel,
My whole body is set a-quiver.
I seek now that I might love her,
Yet if I love her I may work ill.
She is the Seneschal’s wife still.
I must keep faith with him, as he
I hope would be true to me.
If by some chance he knew all,
Great grief on him would fall.
Nonetheless worse would it be
If I were thus maddened utterly;
So fine a lady must lack, alas,
If she nor love nor lover has.
What good is all her courtesy,
If she in her loving is not free?
Any man on earth would, if she
Loved him, improve, lastingly.
If the Seneschal s