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THE POETRY 0F THlBfl“
A THEMATIC STUDY

presented by

KATHLEEN J. BRAHNEY

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ABSTRACT

THE POETRY OF THIBAUT DE CHAMPAGNE:
A THEMATIC STUDY

BY

Kathleen J. Brahney

The sixty—one extant poems by Thibaut de Champagne,
thirteenth-century trouvére include chansons d‘amour, 1335'
partis, débats, and various forms of religious verse. In
this study the major themes of the secular and religious
poems are examined; first three themes based upon the para—
doxes inherent in courtly love, then the theme of the poet—
as—authority in the chansons d'amour and the dialogue poems,
and finally, the thematic correlations between the chansons
d'amour and religious verse.

An examination of "la douce dolors d'amors" reveals

 

that, although Thibaut integrates into his love songs the
courtly stereotype of the attendant courtly lover as out—
lined by Andreas Capellanus, in many poems the poet—persona
strains the limitations of such narrowly defined behavior
by being rebellious, defiant, and willing to challenge the
authority of his sovereigns, Amors and the lady. Such
responses and the use of sophisticated rhetorical devices
and imagery serve to enrich the lover‘s ultimate reaffir—

mation of fidelity to the "Dame."

 

 

 

 

Kathleen J. Brahney

The equally paradoxical "douz maus du souvenir" is ‘

 

characterized by specific patterns and thought processes. ‘
The lover directs his thoughts to the moment when he first
beheld the lady, an encounter which transformed his whole

existence. Conscious recollection of the past brings both

 

pain and solace, a heightened awareness of physical and
temporal separation from the lady coupled with the exceed—
ing delight upon recalling her beauty. Involuntary as well
as voluntary remembrance leads to a timeless state of rapt
contemplation which ultimately disintegrates, whereupon the
lover is again confronted by the painful reality of
separation.

Separation and estrangement from the beloved is

 

directly related to the theme of the prison of love which,
in Thibaut's lyrics, is a manifestation of the lover's
psychological state as well. The lover's intense and
unresolvable conflict, that of suffering the pains of

love and yet being incapable of quitting love's service,
is communicated by the personification of the lover's heart
and mind and by the phenomenon of dédoublement whereby the
lover and the heart each lead an independent existence.
The lover remains in sad exile from the lady, the heart
joyfully imprisoned with her. The prison theme affords
Thibaut rich and striking metaphors of which the most well
known is the Roman de la rose-like description of Amors'

prison in the unicorn poem.

 

lo

Kathleen J. Brahney

The poet-as-authority theme bridges both the
chansons d'amour and the dialogue poems. The authoritative
voice of the lover expressed through extensive use of gener—
alized sententiae in the love songs functions equally well
in the world of the jeux—partis and débats. The dialogue
poems' participants, however, are freer to discuss expli—
citly sexual matters. In the amoebean verse the convergence
of two worlds, the courtly and the actual, changing world in
which the trouvéres lived and created, raises deeper philo-
sophical considerations concerning the search for ideals
that are consistent with one's real life.

In Thibaut's religious verse the ideals, the

feudal hierarchy of the lover as servant of a sovereign

 

lord (Amors) and the lady, and the technical refinements
of the chansons d'amour are transferred to a higher plane
whereby the poet—lover pledges fealty to a divine master
and celestial mistress. The poet—persona continues to
play the réle of steadfast servant and spokesperson
delineating rules for the faithful to follow, taking

on the more awesome r61e of prophet or that of an innocent
child to prove himself worthy of heavenly reward. Again
Thibaut reveals his technical virtuosity and ability to
speak with many voices, effectively communicating the wide
range of emotions experienced by love's servant and the

servant of God.

 

THE POETRY OF THIBAUT DE CHAMPAGNE:

A THEMATIC STUDY

BY

(\(‘Q/
Kathleen JfQBrahney

A DISSERTATION

Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
Department of Romance Languages and Literatures

1976

 

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ii

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I find that, like Thibaut de Champagne in the
chansons d'amour, I must trust those included here to
discern the sincerity of my sentiments since my words are
indeed inadequate in expressing my gratitude. My thanks go
first to Professor Ann Harrison, my dissertation director,
for her patience, kindness, and especially for her guidance
in the preparation of the translations of Thibaut's poems.
My sincere appreciation goes also to Professor Frieda Brown
for her careful reading of the text; to Professor Laurence
Porter for his suggestions concerning further avenues of
inquiry; and to Professor Kenneth Scholberg and Leonard
Rahilly for affording still other points of view from which
Thibaut's lyrics might be considered. I also thank Mrs.

Betty McNaughton and Mrs. Pat Jeffries for providing office

SPace and technical assistance during all stages of my work.

Finally, in keeping with the courtly tenet of secrecy, I
thank all those whose encouragement and inspiration are

too personal to be mentioned here.

 

 

 

Che

TABLE OF CONTEN

INTRODUCTION . . . . . . . . . . .
Chapter
I. LA DOUCE DOLORS D'AMORS .
II. LI DOUZ MAUS DU SOUVENIR . .

III. EN LA DOUCE CHARTRE EN PRISON

TS

IV. BONS ROIS THIEBAUT, SIRE, CONSEILLIEZ MOI!

V. DOUCE DAME, BIAUS SIRE DEUS,
ME SUI GUENCHIZ . . . . .

CONCLUSION . . . . . . . - . . - . -

APPENDIX . . . . . . . . . . . . .

BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

VERS VOUS

 

Page

23
52
80

113

161
201
206

281

 

 

 

 

 

 

INTRODUCTION

The lengthening of days anticipating the vernal
equinox, the exultant song of the thrush and lark, the
miracle of bush and tree bursting with new life, the heady
odor of spring intoxicating the poet and causing him, like
the bird—harbingers, to burst into song, are all motifs
common to the tradition of medieval lyric poetry in Southern
and Northern France. This body of poetry has suffered undue
criticism in the past, criticism that was based upon the
very preponderance of seemingly stereotyped imagery related
to the renascence of spring, season of love, with its con-

1 however, has

comitant joys and sorrows. Recent criticism,
clearly demonstrated that one was asking the wrong questions,
so to speak, of lyric poetry based on the courtly love theme.
One sought in vain the striking image, and found only the
Ovidian figure of Amors striking lovers with his arrows of
gold and lead. Courtly love poetry was the literary expres—
sion of a formalized system of love, a system which poets

adhered to quite closely, thus creating a body of poetry

Of which the imagery and figures of speech did not, indeed,

\—__—_——_

’ 1See especially Roger Dragonetti, La Technique
poetique des trouvéres dans la chanSOn courtoise (Bruges:
De Tempel, 1960).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

vary greatly from poem to poem or from poet to poet. One's
value as a troubadour or as a trouvere was not determined
by one's originality but by one's ability to work within an
already established system and by the degree of refinement
of one's verbal technique and one's melodies. In these
two areas, poetry and music, the trouvére Thibaut IV de
Champagne et de Brie, roi de Navarre, has received much
praise from his contemporaries and from modern critics
alike. Jacques Chailley in his Histoire musicale au moyen
égg calls Thibaut "le plus grand de tous. Comme musicien
autant que comme poéte, Thibaut mérite une place de premiere
grandeur et celle—ci, du reste, Dante en témoigne, lui a été
accordée."2 The reference to Dante concerns the fact that
in the De Volgari eloquentia Dante cites the Roy de Navarre
as a model for the hendecasyllabic line, the perfect line
length according to Dante.3

Other examples from the Middle Ages reveal that
Thibaut was known and admired for his expressions of senti—
ment and his musical expertise. An excerpt from the Grandes

chroniques de France composed by the monks of Saint Denis

 

for the year 1236 states:

 

2Jacques Chailley, Histoire musicale au moyen age
(Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1969), p. 183.

3Dante Alighieri, The Latin Works, trans. by J. M.
Dent, Temple Classics (London: Aldine, 1940), p. 82.

 

 

 

 

 

 

pour ce que parfondes pensées engendrent mélancolie,
ly fu-il loé d'aucuns sages hommes qu'il s'estudiast
en biaux sons de Vielle et en doux chans délitables.
Si fist entre luy et Gace Brulé les plus belles
chancons et les plus délitables et mélodieuses qui
onques fussent oies en chancon né en Vielle."

French critics have seen in some of Thibaut's poetry
the embodiment of patriotic and religious fervor as, for
example, in Gustave Cohen's description of one of Thibaut's

chansons de croisade:

 

Par rang de quatre, ses Chevaliers Champenois
[sic] et Navarrais suivent, a cheval, leur comte
et leur roi, et de leur male poitrine monte a
l'unisson le chant que leur maitre [Thibaut]
composa, honnissant les laches, les récreants.
les morveux et les cendreux et appelant les braves
au lieu ofi les anges sont: Marseillaise ou plut6t
Champenoise de ce David médiéval, Thibaut IV, 1e
roi-chansonnier.5

Such a romanticized portrait may indeed be flattering if one
responds positively to the values expressed therein. It is
possible that our trouvére might not have endorsed the
reference in all its ramifications since, although Thibaut
did participate in the crusade of 1239—40, he differed with
Pope Gregory IX concerning the proper aim of the crusade and

displays antiwar sentiments in his serventois religieux

 

(Chanson LVI), chastizing clergymen who abandon their

pastoral r61e in order to wage war and kill people.

 

”Axel Wallenskdld, ed., Les Chansons de Thibaut de
Champagne (Paris: Société des anciens textes francais,
1925), xvii. All further references are to this edition.
Roman numerals indicate Wallenskdld's numbering of the
chansons.

 

5Gustave Cohen, La Poésie en France au moyen age

 

(Paris: Richard—Masse, 1952), P- 62-

 

 

 

 

 

f A. 4 .l . .II I.
m It

 

From such examples one can see that the poetry of
Thibaut IV has been commented on from various points of
View: medieval contemporaries and successors extracted

quotations from his lyrics and praised him for his beautiful

 

melodies; modern critics have ranked him as a great musician
and as the foremost trouvére of the northern French lyric at
its apogee in the first half of the thirteenth century. To
the present, however, commentaries on Thibaut's poetic craft
and poetic vision have been few and I will deal with them in
chronological succession.

The point of departure for this discussion is the

Wallenskdld edition already cited, the Chansons de Thibaut

 

de Champagne, roi de Navarre. This edition is a thorough,

 

scholarly presentation of the 61 poems which can be attrib—
uted with certainty to Thibaut de Champagne and 8 which are
of doubtful attribution. Wallenskdld's work, as he states

in the avant-propos, is "plus conforme aux exigences de la

 

philologie moderne," and supplants two previous editions of
the poetry of Thibaut de Champagne, that of Lesvesque de La
Ravaliére (1742), and Prosper Tarbé (1851). Wallenskold's
intention, that of presenting a well—documented and philo—

logically sound edition was certainly realized; he has laid

 

the scholarly groundwork necessary for any critical study
of the poetry of the roi—chansonnier. To establish the text
Professor Wallenskbld collated 32 manuscripts scattered

throughout Europe (Introduction, xxviii—xxxviii) and has

 

I 'IIIII IPIIII.

included in his edition comparative tables of the order
of chansons found in the various manuscripts.

In the section entitled "La Question d'attribution"

 

(xxxix—lxxxii) Wallenskdld presents lists which describe
in summary form the versification, numbers of stanzas in
each poem, the stanza- and line—length, and a discussion
of the rhyme schemes used by Thibaut. After a phonological
and morphological description of the language of Thibaut de
Champagne, Wallenskéld addresses himself to the question
of attribution. The seemingly mechanical lists of rhyme
schemes and stanza length are used as a tool in determin-
ing the authenticity of certain poems, some of which are
excluded partly on the basis of their lack of resemblance
to chansons which are authentically Thibaut's. The ques-
tion of attribution is always difficult to resolve, and
Wallenskdld's arguments seem justifiable.

From the sections of the Introduction entitled'
"Vie de Thibaut de Champagne" (xi—xxvii) and "La Reputation
pgétique de Thibaut de Champagne (lxxxiii-xcv), one can
derive a comprehensive picture of the scope of Thibaut's

influence. Besides being cited in the Grandes chroniques

 

de France and by Dante, Thibaut is referred to by fellow
poets Raoul de Soissons, Jean Bretel and Jehan de Grieveler,
and by successors Matfre Ermengaut in the Perilhos tractat,

and by Girart d'Amiens in Meliacin or the Cheval de Fust,

 

 

 

 

Illllll II

and by the German poet Wahsmuot von Mulnhusen. Wallenskdld
attributes the definitive establishment of Thibaut‘s poetic
reputation to two sixteenth-century humanists, Estienne

Pasquier and Claude Fauchet, who, in their respective works,

the Recherches de la France, 1560, and the Recueil de

 

l'origine de la langue et poésie frangoyse, 1581, underscore

 

Thibaut's merit as a trouvére. The Roi de Navarre was
henceforth included in anthologies and literary histories,
acquiring the greatest public with the appearance of the
nineteenth-century edition by Prosper Tarbé in 1851, and
finally with Wallenskdld's own edition published 74 years
later. The Wallenskéld edition serves as an invaluable
source book; each poem is fully annotated, giving biblio—
graphical references as well as manuscript variants and
explanation of specific textual terms. The glossary and
table of proper names included by Wallenskdld at the end
of his volume are also useful.

The chansons are conveniently divided into workable
categories based upon traditional genre divisions of
medieval poetry:
chansons d'amour
jeux-partis
débats
pastourelles
chansons de croisade
sirventois religieux

chansons a la Vierge
lai religieux

w

l—‘hl—‘WNU’IKOON

 

 

 

 

till I. llxl

The edition thereby provides a firm basis from which to
undertake a thematic study of Thibaut's study, although
Wallenskdld himself offers no interpretive analysis or

explications de texte.

 

 

The first study to deal specifically with Thibaut's
work after the appearance of the Wallenskdld edition was La
Préciosité et les Précieux de Thibaut de Champagne a Jean
Giroudoux by René Bray.6 For Bray the subject matter of the
chansons——courtly love--and the use of extended metaphors,
personifications, and allegory suffice to categorize Thibaut
and other twelfth— and thirteenth—century trouvéres as the
first "précieux" of French literary tradition. Bray seeks
to give a broad definition to the notion of préciosité, one
which is sometimes ephemeral and mystica1—-"c‘est un état
d'ame ou un état d'esprit collectif, comme la courtoisie ou
la galanterie" (p. 15)—-or of which the literary manifesta—
tion "consiste surtout dans un certain abus des ressources
de la rhétorique" (p. 15). In the Introduction Bray states
that the "geste précieux (nous aurons a le définir) est lié
a l'acte poétique. Peut-étre méme déborde-t—il la poésie
et rejoint-il une tendance naturelle a 1'esprit humain“

(p. 16). This all-encompassing definition permits the

critic to include most poets in his survey of littérature

Erécieuse.

 

6René Bray, La Préciosité et les Précieux de Thibaut
de Champagne a Jean Giroudoux (Paris: Albin Michel, 1948),
PP. 8-46.

 

 

 

 

i .
0
I
t
I

 

During the Middle Ages, states Bray, the social and
;erary factors essential to the fostering of a précieux
r1e of writing were well established in France: "La

Eciosité est fille de loisir. . . . Le milieu pour lequel

 

.e montre sa predilection c'est la cour, un milieu fermé
." (p. 20). According to Bray the social milieu, the
Lsure of court life, and the existence of a noble class
:e all prerequisite to the development of préciosité, an

sential part of which was the noble game of love.

Dans les cours médiévales, c'est bien en effet
souvent un jeu d'esprit: 1e coeur n'y a qu‘une
toute petite place, et parfois n'en a meme pas.
C'est un jeu noble: tandis que le vilain jouit
ou épouse, 1e gentilhomme ‘fait l'amour'. . . .
Faire l'amour est un art, une création renouvelée
[pp. 19-20].

 

'e, as it existed in the milieu of the court was, states

Ly, a game of artificial sentiment, a game which mani-
l
)ted itself through the gestures of language, the more
)

ined the language, the more brilliant and effective was

lgesture. Préciosité was the "servante de l‘amour

rtois" (p. 20).

‘ Préciosité also requires the existence of a fully—
eloped literary tradition:

Une telle forme d'art n'apparait jamais chez les
primitifs. On ne s‘improvise pas précieux. 11
y faut 1'évolution intellectuelle de tout un
groupe: dans 1e cas qui nous occupe, i1 fallait
que se fussent affinées a la fois la conception
de l'amour et celle de la littérature (p. 21].

 

 

 

Ly then selects Thibaut de Champagne from the list of
:thern trouvéres and classifies him as précieux because
his use of numerous personifications and allegories.

La métaphore chez lui [Thibaut] parait instinctive:
son esprit se joue entre figurant et figuré avec
sécurité et méme avec naturel. Sa préciosité
n'est pas apprise comme une lecon d‘école: elle
est création jaillissante [p. 22].

 

Bray's approach to préciosité, defining it as a
)clivity of the human Spirit or a state of soul, allows
n to include in his definition elements which may not, in
:t, clarify the term. The fact that love as it existed
the courts of medieval France developed into the codified
stem known as "amour courtois" does not necessarily indi—
te that it was devoid of true sentiment; the question of
Icerity in troubadour and trouvere poetry is virtually
inswerable due to the abstract and generalized nature of
a poets' lexicons. Furthermore, the poets themselves
llize that it is difficult to discern true sentiments
im false ones. Their poems are replete with complaints
Lt their ladies are surrounded by flatterers and false
ers who feign love through pretty words while the poets
-mselves-—the true lovers——are not taken seriously in
ir lyric endeavors. One could say that this is just
lever ploy on the part of the poets; it may just as
1 be, however, a sincere expression of the poet-lover's

emma .

 

.fi.‘

 

10

It is true that language in poetic form was a
rvant of the courtly lover who was not able to address
5 lady directly. Language was "précieux" in terms of
s ultimate indispensability, but was it "précieux" in
rms of its intrinsic characteristics? What is needed

a clearer, more fruitful definition of préciosité.
rdinand Brunot offers the following criteria as modes
expression and figures of speech characteristic of

éciosité:

l. antithesis

2. paraphrase

3. metaphors and allegories

4. hyperbole.7
tithesis and hyperbole are certainly characteristic of
1rtly love poetry, in fact, they are inevitable. Anti-
asis lies at the core of the courtly love ethic whereby
Lover suffers extreme joy and extreme sorrow simulta—
>usly because of his beloved who is, hyperbolically,
Tost perfect being. Metaphor and allegory are also
Tt of the courtly love system. Concentration on the
ements of one's feelings, the localization of one's
ferings in the heart and the cause of suffering as

'5 eyes lead easily to the personification of the senses.

 

7Ferdinand Brunot, Histoire de la langue francaise,
- 3, ptie. 1 (Paris: Colin, 1966), pp. 246—247.

lIII lull-[Elli

 

11

me extended metaphors concerning the prison of love can
found in Thibaut's poems,6 but such occurrences are not
edominant. Thibaut more often has recourse to a simile

in chanson LVI, "Deus est ensi conme 1i pellicanz," which

 

troduces a short exemplary story of which the independent
mbols and images reinforce one another, but which does
t really constitute allegory. In terms of vocabulary
ibaut's lexicon is limited. He chooses straightforward
pellation rather than paraphrase, and avoids contrived
mparisons and use of long adverbs characteristic of
éciosité.

In short, the problem of determining préciosité is
e of degree and it must be based upon specific criteria
ther than upon general impressions. If préciosité is to
interpreted as a tendency toward abstraction and artifi—
ality, one must keep in mind that most poetry can be
aracterized as "artificial" when compared to the structure
prose or the spoken language. If one speaks in terms of
finement of language, Thibaut's poetry may justifiably be
:med "refined." If one speaks of affected paraphrases,
Lbaut must be excluded and seen simply as representative
a style of poetry which was characterized by a single
:me--courtly love—-and by the use of metaphor, hyperbole,

l abstractions. The use of such figures of speech in

 

aChanson XXXIV.

vwr-r—ww—v— .1. . 1

 

12

eping with medieval artes rhetoricae was précieux neither
(terms of extreme refinement nor extreme affectation.

The next critic to treat the poetry of Thibaut de
ampagne at any length was Jean Frappier in La Poésie

rique francaise aux XIIe and XIIIe siécles.9 Frappier

 

:votes 22 pages of his work to Thibaut and credits him

.th having prolonged the vitality of the short lyric which,
rcording to Frappier, was beginning to become monotonous

d hackneyed at the beginning of the thirteenth century.
appier's presentation opens with a short biography of
ibaut which includes some details not found in the
llenskdld edition, notably that Thibaut's later years

re marked by religious preoccupations; he seemed inter—

ted in assuring the salvation of his soul through pious

 

dowments. This information may corroborate the notion
at Thibaut wrote most of his religious verse, especially

\

e chansons a la Vierge, toward the end of his life. The

 

st of Frappier's study treats the themes and images found
Thibaut's poetry; citations of Thibaut‘s verse inter—

arsed with commentary make of the "cours de Sorbonne"

 

lume a very good introduction to Thibaut's lyrics.

 

e 9Jean Frappier, La Poésie lyrique francaise aux
E et XIIIe siécles (Paris: Centre de Documentation
.versitaire, 1949), pp. 173-195.

 

 

13

Frappier considers Thibaut to be unique among the
ouveres and perceives a distinct personality——that of a
i-trouvere—-in Thibaut's poems. Such evidence is not
erwhelming; the r61e of suppliant lover seems to dominate
e chansons rather than the réle of powerful noble which
appier would like to emphasize. Frappier does discuss in
me detail most of the genre divisions indicated in the
llenskdld edition, with less attention given to Thibaut's
ligious verse which he considers more structured and
tificial than Thibaut's other poems. Frappier's admi—
tion for Thibaut is well communicated and his study of
ibaut serves as a good point of departure for further
vestigation.

In 1966 Thibaut de Champagne figured prominently

the articles of two critics, M. Banitt1° and Paul
nthor.11 In both Thibaut's work serves as a basis for
nparison with the poetry of other trouvéres. The article
M. Banitt concerns the vocabulary of Colin Muset whom

5t critics have distinguished by saying that he is not

{e the poets of courtly love. Banitt has begun with this

amise and has taken it one step further, showing through

 

1°M. Banitt, "Le Vocabulaire de Colin Muset:
>prochement sémantique avec celui d'un prince-poete,
.baut de Champagne," Romance Philology 20 (1966): 151—167.

 

11Paul Zumthor, "'Roman' et 'gothique': Deux aspects
la poésie médiévale," in Studi in Onore di Italo Siciliano
Firenze: Olschki, 1966): 1223-1234.

 

 

 

l4

ralyses of semantic fields that the vocabulary of
)lin Muset "se distingue par son caractére fonctionnel
: efficient, animant sa poésie d'une qualité Vibrante
anticipation" (p. 156) as opposed to the abstractions
1d retrospection characteristic of the poets of courtly
Tve. Thibaut de Champagne, courtly love poet peg
cellence, serves as a perfect foil for Colin Muset;
ey are contemporaries, both Champenois, and their poetry
as different as their stations in life might indicate.
lin Muset was a jongleur——some say a parasite-—and his
etry reflects his daily concerns as well as a robust
ie de vivre. The long-suffering martyrdom of unrequited
ssion is not for Colin Muset; he speaks of relishing a
Dd meal in the meadow, prides himself on singing to his
n and to his young lady's delight, and declares his need
r money, good food, and a warm fire and a roof over his
id in winter. The lack of such details in courtly love
etry is obvious and has been commented on before. That
Lch is new and worthwhile in Banitt's study is the fairly
:ensive examination of 96 specific lexical items in Colin
set's vocabulary.
Banitt demonstrates that words which ordinarily

lVey a more or less abstract concept are used by Colin
let to express the concrete realities of daily existence.

- n n ' H
s "cort tenir" signifies "great expenditures, mgggi

 

 

15

; the lady's physical gift of herself, and "saygr" means
Tauce" rather than "taste." Colin Muset's propensity for
:garding things with a practical end in mind manifests
:self in other semantic transformations as well. "geste,"
' "roasting spit" designates "roasted meat"; "raison" is
dvice"; "terre" indicates not "land" but "land revenue"
p. 157—158). Banitt does, then, what the lexicographer
nnot do, he restores each item to its specific contextual
aning, thereby rendering its connotation and function more
ecise. It was fruitful for M. Banitt to use Thibaut de
ampagne's poetry as a point of reference in his discussion
d it is efficacious for scholars of Thibaut as well to
amine the roi—trouvére's work in terms of that produced
other poets. The contrasts thus perceived reinforce the
tion that the "universe" presented by Thibaut de Champagne
the chansons d'amour is indeed an introspective one based
re upon abstractions and conceptualizations than upon the
:side world. From that point one can begin one's explora—
>n of precisely which elements convey in a particularly
fective or aesthetically pleasing way the paradox and the
tuty inherent in the system of courtly love.

The atmosphere in Thibaut's chansgns is relatively
:atic": separated from the "real" world by a sort Of
>ermeable membrane which rarely, if ever, iS penetrated

the vicissitudes of life of which the impoverished man

 

 

 

 

16

aware: rain, snow, lack of work, or the physical needs
one's dependents. Thibaut-as—lover is pierced by Amors'
aginary arrows but never bombarded by hail or snow; he
ffers from the poverty of lack of response from his lady,
t not from an inability to provide for his wife or his
ildren. Such are the contrasts pointed out by Paul

mthor in his essay, "'Roman' et 'gothique‘: Deux

pects de la poésie médiévale."

Zumthor does not insist upon the use of the terms
gman' and 'gothique,‘ nor does he draw any comparisons
tween poetry and architecture. Rather than forcing the
ntrast between Romanesque and Gothic as an a priori

assification, Zumthor limits himself to the discussion
two texts dating from approximately 1250 which reveal
(

ultaneous but divergent "modes of expression" in what 1

l

terms the "poetic effort of the thirteenth century"

. 1233). The texts in question are the 43-line chanson

Thibaut de Champagne, "Contre le tens qui devise," and

first 42 lines of "La Griesche d'yver" by Rutebeuf,

reby basing his comparison on two texts of equal length. ‘
Both poets make use of motifs common to the medieval

nch lyric tradition. Thibaut's proclamation that he 1

tes in honor of spring is one of the most favored opening ‘

es used by courtly love poets. Rutebeuf's use of the

ing motif is inverted-—he writes in honor of winter-—but

 

F
l
l
l a
l
I
;
l
l
i

 

 

17

even this inversion is, according to Zumthor, possible
because of a pre—existent tradition. Likewise Thibaut's
love request is characteristic of poets of courtly love,

as is Rutebeuf's lament on poverty in the poems of jongleurs

who earned their livings from their performances. With

these common traditions in mind, Zumthor compares the modes ‘x
of expression of the two poets, finding differences both in
syntactic and thematic composition which will lead to two
paths of subsequent development in medieval French poetry.

Zumthor demonstrates that the chanson by Thibaut
is characterized by a high degree of abstraction which
generates a pure impression rather than a recognition of

a specific event, and that the stanzas are relatively inde-

pendent syntactically: there is no real progression from

,stanza to stanza but merely a succession of motifs related

‘"Poverty"-~create a "poem of circumstance" (p. 1233). The

to courtly love. The poetic "je" as subject of these gen-
eralized events thus also remains highly abstract and does
not communicate on a level which seems uniquely personal.
In the poem by Rutebeuf, however, the winter motif
consistently reinforces the poverty theme, and the use of

concrete nouns-—the only abstraction is the theme word,

poetic "je" in Rutebeuf's poem has an identity and an

existence which are grounded in the real world.

 

 

 

18

This is the essential point of contrast between
omanesque" and "Gothic" poetry which Zumthor wishes to
derscore. "Romanesque" is used to designate the courtly
ve lyric, a poem in which the ahistorical "je"

s'épanouit en actions dont la cohésion tient

uniquement a l'omniprésence de ce sujet. Ces

actions ne portent en général que sur de pseudo—

objets, de caractére si universel ou abstrait

qu'ils semblent ne servir ici que de support au

verbe; sur le plan des significations, tout se

passe comme si l'objet de l'action n'existait

pas en dehors de l'action elle—meme [p. 1233].
e omnipresence of the subject, the poetic "je," is of
pital importance; the poem is at once the product of and
e vehicle of expression of a completely subjective,
stract world, virtually independent of any outer reality.
e initial contact between the poet and a real lady is no
hger evident in stylized poetry such as that of Thibaut.
medieval French poetry which Zumthor characterizes as
bthic," however, the isolation of the poet frOm his
l
vironment no longer holds true. Just as Colin Muset—-
bm Zumthor would include among the authors of poésie
thique——is at the mercy of his donors' generosity, so
iRutebeuf at the mercy of external forces in the world.
}Rutebeuf's poem, states Zumthor, there is the distinct
pression of being "proche de la vie, de tremper en quelque

aiére dans une expérience" (p. 1232). It is "le poéme

Dthique'" which leads to the possibility of a meeting
1 "“

Eween the poet and the World or the poet and Life (13

 

 

 

l9

Monde et la Vie, p. 1233) in all the profundity and
diversity of that convergence.

The 36 chansons d'amour by Thibaut de Champagne

 

are indeed characterized by the omnipresence of a poetic
"je" whose subjectivity forms the perimeter of the universe
which the songs encompass. The poet-persona or the poet—
lover who speaks in these chansons—-Thibaut identifies
himself as poet—persona on only one occasion (chanson XVII,
1. 18)—-mainly communicates the suffering which he endures
because of his unrequited passion for an elusive, unattain—
able, anonymous lady.12

This suffering which is said to be unbearable is
the dominant motif of courtly love poetry. Its interior
nature was clearly recognized and articulated by Andreas

‘Capellanus in his treatise De Arte honeste amandi:

 

Love is a certain inborn suffering derived

from the sight of and excessive meditation upon

the beauty of the opposite sex, which causes each

one to wish above all things the embraces of the

other and by common desire to carry out all of

love's precepts in the other's embrace.

That love is suffering is easy to see, for

before the love becomes balanced on both sides

there is no torment greater, since the lover is

always in fear that his love may not gain its

desire and that he is wasting his efforts. . . .

To tell the truth, no one can number the fears of

one single lover.
___________________
w 12Only in chanson XXXVI does Thibaut express the
lidea that he is composing a SOng because he is overwhelmed
ij joy. Chanson XV expresses hope in the imminent attain—
ment of joy, but the poet—persona is still a l'essai, having
.been chosen for service by Amors, but not yet being the
;recipient of the lady's favors.

 

behav
festa
as pa
passi
he mu
thoug
“when
even

The 3
rise

const

t0 ch
Certa
by Jc
1941)

P- 1%

 

20

That this suffering is inborn I shall show you
clearly, because if you will look at the truth and
distinguish carefully you will see that it does not
arise out of any action; only from the reflection
of the mind upon what it sees does this suffering
come. . . . This inborn suffering comes, therefore,
from seeing and meditating. Not every kind of
meditation can be the cause of love, an excessive
one is required; for a restrained thought does not,
as a rule, return to the mind, and so love cannot
arise from it.13

Such a definition of love necessitates particular

behavior on the part of the lover. Certain physical mani-
festations of the suffering of love must be evident, such
as pallor, sleeplessness or lack of appetite. He must be
passive since “love does not arise out of any action," and
he must be excessively introspective and preoccupied by
thoughts of his beloved. The rule of secrecy stating that

"1” reinforces to an

"when made public love rarely endures
(even greater extent the lover's isolation and distress.

)

iThe scope of his activity seems severely limited, giving
rise to the popular stereotype of the adoring suppliant
constantly lamenting his fate but not actively seeking
to change his situation.

This type of portrayal of the courtly lover is

certainly found in many trouvere lyrics, but it does not

 

13Andreas Capellanus, The Art of Courtly Love, trans.
by John J. Parry (New York: Frederick Ungar Publishing Co.,
1941), pp. 28—29.

ll'Rule XIII of Andreas' 31 "Rules of Love," ibid.,
p. 185.

 

 

 

 

21

adequately represent the poet—lover presented in many of
Thibaut's chansons. The poet—persona does manifest a major
preoccupation with the beauty of the lady who is present as
an interiorized Vision mirrored constantly in the poet's
heart. sighs, tears, and weeping are the major physical
manifestations of the lover's suffering. The motif which
recurs most often, however, is the paradoxical nature of
the sweet pain of love. Furthermore, the poet-persona,
faced with suffering that is "sanz reson" (chanson II,
1. l9), reacts in ways which may in fact represent major
departures from the narrowly circumscribed mode of behavior
traditionally attributed to the lovesick troubadour or
trouvére.

Thibaut's poet—persona may use the chanson as a
means of easing his pain or as a vehicle to express his

fidelity, humility, desperation, or indignation. When deal-

 

5ing with emotions that are as paradoxical as the nature of
ilove itself, the poet—persona, simultaneously experiencing

’extreme grief and joy, may direct anger toward himself or

.toward Amors, the god of love, for having fallen in love.

:His anger may conflict with gratitude for having beheld
{la plus tres bele et la meilleur ausi (chanson IX, 1. l9).
1he may seek to win the lady's heart through often gentle
ipersuasion or he may voice insistence, great urgency,

:Or disdain for the lady and for Amors.

T- Illllr. .. TI

lull'lllllll Ill Ialll .|.. ll.

II |' lilli'lllll...‘ 'l

 

 

22

Thibaut draws upon the richness of variation
offered by the theme of love's suffering and creates
a poet-persona who speaks with many voices other than
that of the suppliant lover. It is precisely these
modulations in tone and the ways in which the theme of
suffering manifests itself that merit elaboration through

close examination of the texts in which the theme unfolds.

 

 

theme
diver
entai
moods
each
SUPP]
a sir
not e
in fa
worst
dttil
filth
the :
he n.
and T
reCu:
c011s

1he

CHAPTER I

LA DOUCE DOLORS D'AMORS

The "sweet pain of love" is by far the predominant
theme of Thibaut's chansons d'amour. An examination of the
diverse ways in which the theme unfolds could conceivably

entail 35 explications de texte since the poet-persona's

 

moods and range of feelings are very nearly distinct in
each chanson. The standard stereotype of the passive,
suppliant lover presented by Andreas Capellanus is but

a single response to the assaults of Amors. Thibaut does
not entirely reject this portrayal of the courtly lover;
in fact one can say that the r61e of the submissive lover
worshipping his lady from afar is the basic, sustained

(attitude in several chansons. In chanson II, for example,
l

ialthough the poet-persona is perplexed by the paradox of

(the sickness of love which is both painful and pleasing,
V
1(he never departs from an attitude of fidelity toward Amors

l
land the lady. The word "maus" (sickness, evil, misfortune)

Trecurs throughout the first half of the chanson, but it is
‘l

(consistently offset by its opposite, "biens" (goodness,

( . . . .
Wbenefits) to convey a very sustained antitheSis illustrating
kthe inherent contradictions of love, the sickness that is
"Vdouz et poignanz" (l. 3).

2 3
l

 

 

also 2
Andrea
and
cheri:
tonne]
of an
the l;
perso:
on th
an ex
for t
faith
recom
quest
the p

j°Y a

The 1

ing ~

rend:
v010:
all :
A9961

24

The statements of the poet-persona in chanson XII
also adhere closely to the dictates of love established by
Andreas Capellanus. “The lover dares not speak to the lady,
cannot stop thinking about her, and openly states that he
cherishes his suffering since the lady is well worth the
torment he endures. An attitude of acceptance of suffering
of an undetermined duration as a means of eventually gaining
the lady's favor characterizes the entire poem. The poet-
persona never indicates that this anguish is unjustifiable,
on the contrary, he devotes an entire stanza (stanza V) to
an explanation of the good intentions which are the basis
for the torment that Amors inflicts upon those who are
faithful to him. The certitude that Amors wishes to grant
recompense to the patient, long-suffering lover1 is not
questioned in chanson XII as it is in chanson XXXV where
the poet-persona states that Amors' willingness to grant
joy and gladness to the lover is dependent upon chance:

Qu'Amors est de tel nature
Que son ami maine a mort;
Puis en a joie et deport,
S'il est de bone aventure;
[11. 3—6].
The lover in chanson XXXV, in fact, despairs of ever attain—

ing jOY; for Amors and the lady are indifferent to him.
____________________

1"Pour ce fet Amors doloir / Qu'ele veut guerredon
rendre / Ceus qui bien sevent atendre / Et serVir a son
V°1°ir" (11. 37-40). For a translation of these lines and
all subsequent citations of Thibaut's chansons, consult the
Appendix.

 

 

poi

at]

Elli

exl

Sti

 

25

In separate chansons, then, one finds contrasting
points of view, but Thibaut is also capable of changing his
attitude toward Amors or the lady within a single chanson,
or within a single stanza. Chanson XXIII is the best
example of abrupt changes in tone communicated through
extensive use of questions, exclamations, and contradictory
statements. Thibaut begins with an extremely typical
panegyric exordium announcing his reason for composing

the chanson:2 "Changon ferai, que talenz m'en est pris. /

 

De la meilleur qui soit en tout le mont;" (11. 1-2). The
praise offered to the lady in line two is completely negated
in the following lines as the poet-persona makes his thought
processes public by using the rhetorical device of ratioci-
ggtig. Dragonetti states that the function of ratiocinatio
is to "confier a SOn auditoire une espéce de débat intérieur,
un trouble ou un embarras. . . ."3 In this particular case,
the interior debate serves not only to communicate confusion
and perplexity on the part of the speaker, but also to catch
the audience--or the lady-—off guard by placing in question

the entire premise for the composition of the chanson: “De

la meilleur? Je cuit que j'ai mespris" (l. 3)-

 

2"Les poétes courtois . . . annoncent au public 1e
theme et la raison de leur poéme selon quelques formules
telles que chancon ferai, lors chanterai, chanter m'estuet."
Dragonetti, p. 144.

3Dragonetti, p. 43.

 

 

ww

stanz,
the l
the l
langu
lover

relea

 

 

26

Another ratiocinatio in the first three lines of
stanza III emphasizes the poet's inability to part from
the lady. Even if there is no mercy in her heart (1. 7),
the lover's heart is completely within her power and he
languishes unto death. Various exclamations express the
lover's fidelity, resentment, and need for immediate
release from his torment:

Hé, cors sanz cuer! de vos fet grant venjance
Cele qui m'a navré sanz defiance,

Et ne por quant je ne la lerai ja [11. 37-39].
Amors, merci! ne soiez oubliee! [1. 46].

Ne me metez longuement en oubli! [1. 49].

 

The total effect of the chanson is one of sudden
changes, whether from statements of flattery to negation
of the compliment or from love requests and descriptive
statements to a cry of despair. The final reference to i
the lady, moreover, reaffirms the original exordium which ‘
stated that the poet would write a song about the best lady
in the world. He concludes by saying that she is, above all
others, "la plus desirree," thereby casting aside the doubts
he had expressed in the first stanza. His own situation,
however, is not as equally resolved as his feeling toward
the lady. The poet—lover is left with only a question:

"Deus! je ne pens s'a 1i non. / A moi que ne pense ele

 

done?" (11. 55-56).

 

 

are t
rhet<
the
“a
the
trad
ques
cour
time

must

wide

wit)

mar:

idoi

The shifts in tone and attitude in chanson XXIII
are conveyed, to a large extent, through the use of

rhetorical devices. The structural elements themselves,

the repetitions of "la meilleur . . . La meilleur?" and
"sanz reson . . . Sanz reson?" (11. 2—3 and 23-24) and i
l?’

the use of ratiocinatio reinforce the theme of the con—
tradictions inherent in the suffering of love. The terminal
question as well reflects a characteristic essential to the
courtly lover; he is expected to aspire for an undetermined
time, and, until "love becomes balanced on both sides," he
must suffer and bear his unresolved state.

Other chansons as well reflect the poet—persona's
wide variety of responses to the suffering of love within

a single chanson. As in chanson XXIII, the lover speaks

with a great range of expressive registers, straining the i
inarrow limitations of the courtly stereotypes before finally i
adopting the stance of the passive, faithful servant. i
Thibaut is capable of such invention even in the shortest
of his chansons, the first chanson in the Wallenskdld

edition.

The five stanzas of chanson I are coblas unissonans,

 

all following the same rhyme scheme. Each stanza is only
seven lines long, of which one is the three—syllable refrain,
“E! é! é!" Even the line-length is concise, hectasyllabic

lines alternating with three—syllable lines as follows: 7a

 

i
)

 

3b 72
hovev
the m
are 1
comfl

renov

prov
By E
chfl
molt

thro

ha
The
sin.
tho

the

//

(Ba

 

28

3b 7a 3b 7b 7a. Thibaut's economy of composition is not,
however, indicative of thematic poverty. Almost all of
the major aspects of the theme of the suffering poet-lover
are present in this short lyric: the pain of love, the
conflict of heart and reason, the prison of love, the
renown of the lady, and the fidelity of the poet-lover.

The first stanza is constructed in a manner which
provides multivalent bonds with the rest of the chanson.
By focusing on his suffering and on the function of the
chanson, Thibaut establishes the possibility of developing
multiple aspects of the theme through direct statements and
through suggestion.

The opening lines, "Por conforter ma pesance / Faz

 

un son," state in direct form that the poet sings in order
to ease his suffering. The cause of the poet-persona's
chagrin, however, is not indicated directly. One knows
only that it is intense, for the lover's penance is greater

than that of Jason, "Cil qui conquist la toison" (l. 5).

 

The inclusion of the explanatory line is almost superfluous
since the episode of Jason and the golden fleece was well
known during the Middle Ages. Several works attesting to
the long lasting popularity of the story are Ovid's

Metamorphoses,” the Roman de Troie by Benoit de

 

 

”Ovid Metamorphoses, trans. by Mary M. Innes
(Baltimore: Penguin, 1955), pp. 155-163.

 

s..-

 

Sainte-l
The purp
Jason b1;
and the
the impl
By comp:
also enl
to follr
communir
only in
who is a
enduranv

\

Léopold
(Paris :

Samdig,

Moralis
m
and Med

29

5 and the fourteenth—century Ovide moralisé.6

Sainte—Maure,
The purpose of the line is not to clarify the identity of
Jason but rather to imply the goal of the post's own quest
and the recompense for his penitential suffering, la toison,
the implicitly golden fleece of the blonde ideal lady.7

By comparing himself to a legendary hero, the poet—persona
also enhances the value of the praise of the lady which is
to follow in stanzas III, IV, and V. The poet then can
communicate his admiration of and fidelity to the lady not
only in the guise of a humble, devoted servant, but as one
who is as heroic as Jason and just as capable of great

endurance and perseverance.

 

5Benoit de Sainte-Maure, Le Roman de Troie, ed.
Léopold Constans, I, Société des anciens textes francais
(Paris: Firmin Didot, 1904), pp. 38—105.

 

6Ovide moralisé, ed. C. de Boer, III (Wiesbaden:
Sandig, 1931), pp- 15—34.

7It is interesting to note that in the Ovide
moralisé, which postdates the work of Thibaut, the
allegorical interpretation of the adventures of Jason
and Medea states that Medea herself was the golden fleece:

"-—Toute cest fable est histoire

Et de Pelye et de Jason,

Fors solement de la toison.

Medee iert la toison doree

Qui tant fu close et enserree . . .

[11. 690—6941."

 

"—-This whole account, concerning

Both Peleus and Jason, is history,

Except only [the part] about the fleece.
Medea was the golden fleece

That was enclosed and locked up so well . . ,
[translation mine]."

 

 

 

 

 

funcl

inter
compr
not 1

bilil

hmotl
gap
the '
adva:
the

maid
an a
atte

of}:

sufi
that
the
verl
frm

fer

 

30

The poet's statements concerning the nature and
function of composing the chanson are open to various
interpretations. The phrase "Faz un son" can mean "I am
composing a song" or "I am making a sound" which may or may
not be melodic. The first interpretation offers the possi-
bility that the creative act in itself is therapeutic for
the trouvére and brings him relief from his suffering.
Another connotation of the statement "I am composing a
chanson" underscores the notion of the chanson—as—message,
the value of which will be determined by whether or not it
advances the poet, or brings him forth in terms of gaining
the attention of his lady. The second translation, “I am
making a melody or a sound in order to ease my pain“ is not
an acceptable rendering, since the refrain “E! é! é!"
attests to the fact that the song itself is an expression
of pain.

The two main emphases of the first stanza——the
suffering of love and the function of the chanson—~suggest
themes which will be developed in the remaining stanzas of
the poem. The lady, whose presence was indicated by the
verb "avancier" and "la toison" becomes the dominant figure
from stanza III to the end of the poem. The theme of suf—
fering finds its echo in stanzas II, IV, and V, as well as

in the refrain. The chanson—as-message recurs in stanza III

 

with the statement ". . . g'i ai mis ma fiance / Jusqu'en

 

 

 

 

 

son "

and c
ities
as th
true ,

to ad

asse
for

hope

mar

fus

 

 

31

ppp" (11. 17—18), and in the direct address of Amors (l. 34)
and of the lady (l. 37). From this wide range of possibil—
ities, each aspect of the theme will be developed in turn

as the poet—persona adopts various rdles appropriate to the

true, courtly lover, until he finally assumes the boldness

 

to address the lady directly in the gpypi.

In the second stanza the poet makes more precise
the nature of his torment. He is torn by an inner conflict
between reason and that part of his "self" that is unable
or unwilling to do what reason dictates. His state is one
of immobility; he remains in a prison where ransom is of no
avail. Reason, personified, declares that this is childish-

ness, but the poet chooses imprisonment and thus has need

 

of solace (1.13). The poet is thereby both an active agent
and one who needs to receive comfort from outside himself.
He is active in that he chooses to "keep his imprisonment"
(". . . prison / Tieng . . .", 11. 11—12), just as he is
assertive in singing in order to ease his pain. His need
for external assistance is indicated in stanza I by his
dependence upon the chanson as a means of advancement,
and in the final lines of stanza II: "Si ai mestier
d'alejance. / E! El é!"

The voices of the poet as a suffering yet heroic
martyr undergoing great penance and of the poet as a con-

fused, confined child are the registers of expression of

‘

stanzas
the poet
the assr
The fire
of the J
to her i
and eulc
that a 9

gift of

precedir
the clos
as the 1
The stat
lady to
compari:
sweet n:

he were

 

concern:
condemn;
"throw;
1. 27) .
veys th
not onl

of lovi

   

32

stanzas I and II. In stanza III is heard the voice of
the poet as composer of songs in praise of his lady, and
the assurance that he is her steadfast, faithful admirer.
The first four lines of the stanza stress the reputation
of the lady and the poet's solemn pledge (fiance, 1. 17)
to her in the form of the chanson. Poet—lover, craftsman,
and eulogist unite in this central stanza to state humbly
that a glance from the chosen lady is worth more than the
gift of love from another.

Stanza IV is structurally a mirror image of the
preceding stanza. The "Meus aim . . ." construction at
the close of stanza III serves as the opening of stanza IV
as the poet's praise of the lady becomes more exaggerated.
The statement that the poet prefers a mere glance from his
lady to the love of another is paralleled by an even bolder
comparison whereby the poet finds the lady's company and her
sweet name of more worth than the kingdom of France. As if
he were spurred on by the confidence of his own assertions
concerning the lady, the poet—lover utters an exclamatory
condemnation of all those who would seek to reproach love

"through dismay or through fear" (Por esmai ne pour dotancel

 

1- 27). The use of the expletive "Mort Mahon!" (l. 25) con—
veys the tone of a self-righteous crusader declaring death
n0t only to those who might seek to be freed from the bonds

of loving, but also to that side of the poet's own self,

 

 

‘

reson, 1

prison (

the lad}
the sti]

seek to

 

the rear
fidelity
her imag
touches
out to l
soiez.
is follc
addresse
realize
is a vel
the lad}

distress

 

common '
communiv
he is c.
the lov
Thibaut

so to s

   

33

ppppp, that sought to convince the poet to give up the
prison of love.

Grounded fast in the poet's being is the image of
the lady as companion. In stanza V the poet centers upon
the still point of his turning universe; he may suffer and
seek to alleviate his pain, he may debate with himself about
the reasonableness of remaining in his situation, but his
fidelity to the lady does not change and the constancy of
her image is always with him. The presence of this memory
touches the emotional core of his being, forcing him to cry

out to Amors for mercy: "Aiez, Amors, guerredon! / NE

 

sosfrez ma mescheancel" (11. 33—34). The emotional outburst

 

is followed by the more subdued $239; in which the poet
addresses the lady directly, stating that he wishes her to
realize his situation, reasserting the idea that the chanson
his a vehicle of communication, the poet's means of gaining
_the lady's favor (avancier) and an expression of great

I

‘distress, "E!

|(D\
[(D\

In this chanson Thibaut uses many of the themes
-common to the tradition of courtly love poetry and also
‘communicates the wide range of emotional responses of which
ghe is capable as poet—lover. The stereotyped portrayal of
ithe lovesick trouvére is not applicable to the dynamism of
iThibaut's subjective universe. His gaze is turned inward,

F0 to speak, and he is aware of the conflict caused by the

‘

unreason
(sedan
are also
former i
being wh
from suf
praise, .
insecuri-
lady of :
favor, 1:
causes t)

from his

 

the poet
the postT
asks for

not love

of chans
another
Thibaut

indeed

 

wasting

   

34

unreasonableness of loving. Yet the image and manner
(senblance and fagon, 11. 31—32) of the lady as a Vision
are also part of his inner existence. His response to the
former is one of aggressive denial of that portion of his
being which justifies the renunciation of love as a release
from suffering. His response to the latter is fidelity,
praise, and homage which is still not without fear and
insecurity. The risk involved in pledging fealty to a

lady of such renown and not knowing if he will win her
favor, like the fear described by Andreas Capellanus,8
causes the poet—lover to cry out to Amors for release

from his perilous situation. In his address to the lady
the poet-persona exerts emotional restraint and takes on
the posture of the humble, self—effacing lover who only
iasks for her awareness of his situation and, as recompense,

not love, but a mere glance from her.

 
   
  
  
   
 
  

This initial impression of the thematic richness
of chanson I is reinforced by an examination from still
another point of view, one which takes into account what
Thibaut as trouvére could have said as well as what he
indeed did say. Since the chanson as a genre is highly

structured, one can determine rather predictable formulae

 

8". . . For before the love becomes balanced on both
sides there is no torment greater, since the lover is always
in fear that his love may not gain its desire and that he is

asting his efforts," p. 28.

 

ndch
chansc
nap

positi

35

and characteristic features which recur from chanson to
chanson. One noticeable characteristic of trouvére poetry
is a predilection for the rhyme "SEES in the terminal
position of a line:

La plus caractéristique d'entre elles [les
rimes formées au moyen des substantifs] est la
rime en -ance. . . . La résonnance poétique du
suffixe était toute désignée pour des rimes en
chute douce dont l' euphonie charmait l'oreille
des prosateurs et des poetes. . .

Ce fait est particulierement remarquable chez
nos trouveres: comparés aux autres substantifs,
notamment ceux en —or et en -on, les mots en —ance
offrent ceci de curieux, qu 'ils ne figurent, pour
ainsi dire, jamais a 1' intérieur du texte. Nul
doute qu'ici, par conséquent, i1 s'agit d'un
vocabulaire spécialisé, exclusivement réservé
a des effets de rimes.

 

What is perhaps even more significant is that
certain words with the same rhyme endings appear over and
over again, forming a standard body of clichés. Dragonetti

states that:

1e mode de formation des rimes chez les trouvéres
. . . reléve d'une technique fort simple que le
caractere stéréotypé du vocabulaire favorisait
considérablement. Mais justement ce vocabulaire
cliché et cette technique de composition assez
mécanique peuvent donner a la rime une fonction
importante. Puisqu'elle est pour ainsi dire don—
née d'avance, du moins dans le cas de la rime
commune, il s'agit pour le trouvere, beaucoup
moins de créer que de faire jouer une certaine
mémoire verbale.1° .

 

9Dragonetti, p. 406.

1°Ibid., p. 415.

@
rhyme
an en
words
notic
chose
XIII,
he or
lower
wishe
would
plac:

miner

bold!
emti:
ferir
Self.
deep
001w
Thib
to f
too
that

ifthe

36

One might conclude then, that in composing the five

coblas unissonans of chanson I based entirely upon the

 

rhymes —§ppg and -pp, Thibaut chose his rhyme words from

an ensemble of established stereotypes. One of the standard
words of the -§pgg repertory is "esperance," a word which is
noticeably absent from Thibaut's chanson. If Thibaut had
chosen to use esperance as he does in the refrain of chanson
XIII, "Dame, mercil Donez moi eSperance / De joie avoir!"
he could have emphasized the humility and patience of the
lover who does not ask for joy or total fulfillment of his
wishes but only for the hope of having joy. Such a request
would reflect the willingness of the lover to persevere by
placing the termination of his suffering at some undeter—
mined point in the future.

The voice of the poet in chanson I, however, is
bolder and somewhat more insistent. The poet-lover is
entirely concerned with the present moment in which suf-
fering; inner conflict and its resolution, fidelity;
self-assertion; tender remembrance of the lady; and
desperation all converge and the poet's cry for mercy
COHVEYS theurgent need for an immediate end to his torment.
Thibaut has carefully limited the time sphere of the ppppggp
to focus on the present, intimating that his suffering is
too great to be sustained for very long, and demonstrating
that his fidelity is entire and unchanging, worthy of

immediate recompense from Amors and the ladY-

 

 

in re
not I
the a
many
he c2
naste
His <

he at

less

chant

rathr
gnpp
0f d.
the 5
audt
00nd
fait
99th
this

of 1

Shea

 

37

In chanson XXX Thibaut shows even more versatility
in response to the suffering of love. The poet-lover does
not renounce the r61e of the innocent martyr, weakened by
the assaults of Amors. This r61e, however, is only one of
many which the poet—persona adopts. He proves himself to
be capable of vigorous attacks upon Amors, his rightful
master, and at times acts as Amors' accuser and judge.

His own capacity for manipulation surpasses that which

he attributes to Amors ("Amors semble deable qui maistrie,"

 

l. 5). His suggestion that Amors is like a devil is no
less audacious than the challenge with which he opens the
chanson.

The structure of the first stanza consists of a
rather sophisticated use of the rhetorical devices of
communicatio and subiectio which convey successive tones
of defiance and self-assurance. Lines 1-4 constitute
the communicatio in which the poet confronts the implied
audience with the paradox of Amors' name--love-—and his
conduct, namely the fact that he makes those who are
faithful to him suffer. Within the structure of the
communicatio the poet feigns an inability to explain
this obvious contradiction between the name of the god
Of love and the manifestations of Amors' true nature.

Through the use of the subiectio, whereby a
Speaker gives his own answer to a question he has posed

to someone else, the poet communicates that he has, in a

 

 

sense
and s

inapp

devil
(1. l
tiate
perso
M
of pi

the]

Step
1967
0the
hp

38

sense, overcome his hesitation when faced with the paradox,
and self—assuredly states that Amors' name is indeed
inappropriate.
He perceives Amors as a manipulative, deceitful
devil whom one can accuse of felonnie (l. 9) and vilenie
(l. 15). That these charges are serious ones is substan—
tiated by the Roman de la rose. Of the 10 portraits of
personages excluded from the Garden of Deduit, two are
Felonie and Vilanie.11 In the Roman de la rose renunciation
of vilanie is the first commandment which Amors gives to
the lover when he enters Amors' service:
'Vilanie premierement,‘

Ce dist Amors, 'vueil et comant

Que tu guerpisses senz reprendre,

Se tu ne viaus vers moi mesprendre.

Si maudi e escomenie

Toz ceus qui aiment vilanie:

Vilanie fet les Vilains,

Por ce n'est pas droiz que je l'ains.

Vilains est fel e senz pitié,

Senz servise e senz amitié'
[11. 2077—2086]. 12

 

11Guillaume de Lorris, Le Roman de la rose, ed.
Stephen G. Nichols (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts,
1957), 11. 129-462. The eight other qualities are, in
Order of appearance, Haine, Convoitise, Tristesse,
Vieillesse, Hypocrisie, Pauvreté, Avarice, and Envie.

12Translation:

"'First villainy,’

Said Amors, 'I wish and command

That you renounce without fail

If you do not wish to commit misconduct
against me.

For I condemn and excommunicate

All those who honor villainy:

Villainy breeds churls,

 

 

 

These
and v_i
unacce

compo:

by the
magma]
him "1
is, a:
aCCUSl
attit'
Speak)
quest
to th

the s

39

These general qualities, felonnie (deceit or perfidy),
and vilenie, the antithesis of courtliness, are utterly
unacceptable in the behavior of a lover, much less in the
comportment of the god of love himself.

This harsh condemnation of Amors is tempered
by the word "seems" (semble, 1. 5) and by the poet's
magnanimous statement that Amors' wickedness distresses

him " lus que por moi cent mile tanz por 1i" (1. 8): he
P

 

is, after all, faithful and good; it is Amors whom one can
accuse of treachery. Implicit in the first stanza is an
attitude of strength and superiority on the part of the
speaker. The vigorous challenge, his resolution of the
question and his attempt to appear unselfish all contribute
to the poet—persona's air of self—assurance and command of
the situation.

The lover, however, cannot maintain his selfless
stance for very long. His change in attitude is clearly
indicated by parallel sentences from stanzas I and II based
on the same verb, se peser ("to grieve, to be burdened").

"Et poise m'en . . . / Plus que por moi cent mile tanz por

 

1;" (11. 7—8) is transposed in stanza II to "Et me poise de
son mal durement / Et en son bien cuit mon avancement (ll.

\—-

"For this reason it is not right that
I honor it.
A Villain is wicked and without pity,
Without service and without friendship'
[translation mine]."

 

 

11-12) .
instead
the fact

his own

hors' 1
be inapj
Amors,

while 5
Amors 1
good an
Concern
183$,

the r61
his lor
Effects
se1f-ri

Chastis

M

New

love:- i

40

11-12). The use of the coordinating conjunction "pp"
instead of the conjunction "SEE" deemphasizes somewhat
the fact that the speaker is nonetheless concerned with
his own welfare, his own advancement.

The sententia—like statements which follow:
". . . de seignors Vient granz biens a plusors" (1. 13) and
". . . cil sert bien son seignor qui chastie / A cui poise

quant i1 fait vilanie" (11. 14—15) are an attempt to clarify

 

Amors' r61e as well as the lover's own. Since it would
be inappropriate for the lover to be too haughty toward
Amors, the poet—lover thereby acknowledges Amors as master
while simultaneously demonstrating that his chastisement of
Amors in stanza I was only in fulfillment of his duty as
good and faithful servant. The lover has already shown his
concern about Amors' evil through the use of the verb pp
pgggp. This same verb serves to link the poet-speaker to
the r61e of the servant who is concerned (a cui poise) when
his lord commits Villainy. The change in attitude thus
effected from stanza I and stanza II is the transition from
self-righteous accuser to dutiful servant whose service--
chastisement——goes unheeded: "Car ele a tant et vefi ey oi /
Que ne 1i chaut de rien que on 1i die" (11. 17-18).

In stanza III the poet portrays himself as weak and
defenseless. Amors, the antagonist, has vexed the poet—

lover so much that in the lover's anger there is no more

 

 

 

L

fear; ‘
plvpg
lack o
poet-11
"true"
sick m
himsel
will c
only d

from A

though
the gr
hand.
much 5
Both 5
integ1
poet (

Consti

the 1
hdtUI

Poet

41
fear; there is only fidelity and desperation: "Ainz sui
plus siens, quant plus me desespoir" (l. 21). Anger and

 

lack of fear might be still further justifications of the
poet—lover's outburst in stanza I, for he now reveals his
“true" nature with a particularly graphic image, that of a
sick man lying by the hearth who, not being able to defend
himself physically, threatens potential attackers that he
will cut them in two. The poet—persona's only solace and
only defense consists of words as he awaits further assaults
from Amors.

In his weakened physical state, the poet—lover's
thoughts turn to the moment when he first saw his lady and
the greeting which she offered him with her tender white
hand. Memory and grief are closely related but there is
much solace offered to the lover in reliving the experience.
Both sight and touch (yppip and atochier, 11. 30 and 31) are
integral aspects of the poet's memory of the lady, but the
poet exhibits restraint through the use of a "mieuz aim"
construction similar to those used in chanson I: "Mippp

aim la main dont me volt adeser / Que l'autre cors ou ce

 

 

me fait penser" (11. 34-35).
In relating the incident when he first met the lady,

the lover begins to emphasize the positive aspects of the
nature of the god of love. It was Amors who first led the

Poet to the lady, bringing him a moment of great joy, the

sweet:
close
how t<
begin]
Amors

him w:

hatre:
to st
does
ing t
even
but h
are c
even
Havir
Amors
Idle

Taini

he Wt
therw
01m 3

he i

\.

42

sweetness of which the poet relives through memory. To
close the stanza the lover acknowledges that Amors knows

how to grant sweet comfort to his followers, marking the
beginning of an attempt on the part of the lover to persuade
Amors, through a sort of positive reinforcement, to reward
him with "joie et secors" (l. 44).

In stanza V the lover articulates that love and
hatred are closely related and that only through reference
to standards established by the rules of loyalty and reason13
does one purify one's love by rejecting hatred and by refus—
ing to separate from loving. Anger and lack of fear (1. 20),
even hatred, are all part of the poet—lover's experience,
but he consistently rejects them in favor of qualities that
are considered more positive in the courtly code: fidelity,
even when it is linked to despair (l. 21), and steadfastness.
Having demonstrated that he is indeed a faithful servant of
Amors, and having proclaimed that largesse is part of the
réle of a lord, the poet exercises still another means of
gaining his reward.

The poet—lover states that if Amors were clever,

He would reward the true lover with joy and sustenance, and
:hereby be served and honored (11. 44—45). Conscious of his
5wn réle as composer of the chanson, the poet realizes that

he is free to construct his song as he wishes, and, although

M—

13Mais n'est pour ce loiautez ne raison (1. 39).

he ha
this
serva
withc

by hr

by at
anotl
hand
love
of H
the :
make:
lmor
three
forg
Tome
10ya

has
0f I
defi

Poet

0ft

43

me has served Amors faithfully, he has not honored him in
:his particular chanson. The ties between master and
servant are reciprocal. The poet—lover serves, but not
hithout seeking a reward, and will in turn reward Amors
3y honoring him in song.

The renewed self—assurance of the poet is followed
by an address to the lady in which the poet offers still
tnother justification for his boldness, namely her perfumed
land which he kisses night and day (11. 46—48). The poet—
Lover is completely enraptured by an illusion; the memory
if the hand which the lady offered him in greeting becomes
he focus of the lover's ardor, the passion he experiences
akes him think that he has found mercy. The reality of
mors' treachery and indifference as presented in the first
hree stanzas of the poem seems to have been completely
orgotten by the lover who, having recalled the privileged
ament of first seeing the lady and having reaffirmed his
Jyalty and service, becomes entranced by the moment which
as given him the greatest joy.

Once again, the poet-persona has shown a wide range
'responses to the suffering of love. The attitude of
fiance to and condemnation of Amors gives way to the
et's presentation of himself as totally defenseless.
conjunction with this revelation of himself at the point

greatest vulnerability, the lover is led by Amors to see

 

 

the lad
finally

his pas

mercy,
nearly
to make
chanfl
opening
the low

0f the

negativ
lover a
sweet I:
lament,
'3 by i
w
faIllilie
thSice
all dew
Capella
respons

time a1
\

44

he lady whereupon the poet—lover seems to regain vigor,
inally directing a last ultimatum to Amors and declaring
is passion for the lady.

Unlike chanson I which ended in a plea to Amors for
ercy, the voice of the poet—persona in chanson XXX is
early triumphant; the réle of memory is strong enough
0 make the poet—lover think that he has found mercy. The
hanson closes with a vigor of expression analogous to the
pening lines of the lyric, with one important distinction;
he lover is not antagonistic but captivated by the image
t the lady.

The effect of memory can be both a positive and a
egative force. In chanson XXX it imparts boldness to the
>ver and consoles him. In chanson XVII it is the cause of
veet pain (douz maus, l. 3) which makes the poet—lover
Lment, weep, sigh, and burn with ardor. The latter effect
:by far the more common stereotype. For this reason
ggggp XVII opens in a manner which is deceptively
miliar. The description of the psychological and
ysical manifestations of the pain of love do not at
l deviate from the pattern already articulated by Andreas
>e11anus,1” and are not at all indicative of the diverse
sponses of the lover which are to follow. Changes in

he and imagery in chanson XVII are as abrupt and as

 

ll’P. 29 and Rules XXIII and XXX, pp. 185-186.

 

surp
uses

and

own
dece
firs
tude
disl
call
sell

take

The
Thi
tra;

Thi

45

surprising as the darting of the elusive deer which Thibaut
ases as the central image of a metaphorical hunt (stanzas II
and III).

The poet—persona's first reaction to the suffering
of love, after lamenting and weeping, is to extract a
ational precept, a rule of behavior which he states in

eneral terms: "Nus ne doit Amors trair / Fors que gapgon

 

t ribaut" (11. 10—11). In a logical progression from gen—
ral to specific, the poet then applies the generalization
0 his own situation. The conclusion that he draws for his
wn advantage is that Amors must find him joyful and without
eceit. Indeed, the portrait he has given of himself in the
irst stanza may be without guile or deceit, but his atti-
ude is that of one who is distraught, beaten down and
isheartened. To be p322, that is, passionate and exuberant,
alls for a new image, one in which Thibaut identifies him-
elf not as the victim but as the aggressor, the hunter who
ikes joy in the chase:

Mes se je puis consivir

Le cerf, qui tant puet fouir,

Nus n'est joianz a Thiebaut

[11. 16—18].
he memory of the lady which so haunted and tormented
hibaut in stanza I is now replaced by a metaphorical
tansformation of the lady into an adventuresome deer as

iite as snow, with tresses finer than Spanish gold. The

idy-as—deer is still elusive, out of reach, dwelling in a
i

 

 

retr
hunt
form
love
usim
two

dari
alsc

life

joyl
iii
as;
36)
inn

say:

Dec

00;

46

retreat, the entrance of which is guarded by wolves. The
hunter, the deer, and the wolves are an imaginative trans-
formation of the triad of personages familiar to the courtly
love lyric: the lover, the lady, and the losengiers. By
using the metaphor of the hunt, Thibaut is able to present
two aspects of his image as lover; he is the joyous and
daring hunter obsessed with the object of his quest, and
also potential prey to the wolves, the detractors who make
life difficult for the courtly lover.

The image of the hunt which was intended to be a
joyful prospect is, in fact, marred by the presence of the
felon envieus and by the realization on the part of Thibaut
as poet—persona that he has loved beyond his means (11. 34-
36). This statement is preceded by a succession of unique
images of imminent death and destruction, none of which,
says Thibaut, is as grave as his own state:

Ainz Chevaliers angoisseus
Qui a perdu son hernois,

Ne Vielle qui art 1i feus
Mesons, vignes, blez et pois,
Ne chacierres qui prent sois
Ne leus qui est familleus
N'est avers moi dolereus . . .
[11. 28-34].

This particular constellation of images seems
peculiarly concrete and provides a striking point of
contrast with the suffering of love described in stanza I

and the metaphorical realm of the hunt in stanzas II and III.

In the order of presentation of the images in stanza IV, one

   

 

 

ILL

can

subj
the

tram
of m
worl
thin
of t
vine
draw
ina]
is I
ones
are

but

for
bec
gre
Th1

rea

 

47

an perceive some parallels to the arrangement of the

ubject matter in the first three stanzas. The first image,
he dying knight who has lost his armor is, in a sense, a
ransference of the image of the poet suffering the assaults
f memory (11. 3—6) from the abstract realm to the actual
crld of battle. The poet's figurative burning when he
hinks of the lady (I. 9) is conveyed by the graphic image

f the holocaust which devours an entire village, its houses,
ineyards, and all of its crops. The next two images are
rawn from the metaphor of the hunt. The hunter who orig—
nally represented Thibaut and who joyfully pursued the deer
5 now immobilized, caught in brambles. The wolves, who

nce represented a threat to the courtly lover (11. 25-27),
re also at a desperate point; they may still be threatening,
ut they are starving.

To state that none of these images equal his own
prment is not an unwarranted exaggeration: "before love
hcomes equally balanced on both sides, there is no torment
ireater."15 In this particular series of images, however,
hibaut has departed from the abstract and metaphorical
balms and has expressed his point of psychological and
hotional despair in terms of comparisons made with the
Eternal visual world, the summation of which still do not

onvey the extent of his anguish. These images also express

 

lsAndreas Capellanus, p. 28.

 

.1.

great
last
fire
Viciw

prep;

mere
to k
cour
demn
love
of h
lady
aliv

valu

of p
the
Lure
derj

WON

les}

 

 

at tension and force. The struggle of the knight in his

t moments as his body resists death, the uncontrollable
e, the thrashing of the hunter in the briars, and the
iousness characteristic of a starving animal are all
paratory to the poet's outburst in stanza V.

His state as expressed in the final stanza is not
e suffering, but death; the lady has it within her power
kill him. The poet perceives such action as a sin in
rtly terms since he is her true lover. As if this con—
nation of her were not sufficient, Thibaut states his
e—request in terms which reveal that he is conscious
,his own manipulative power in the "game of love." The
,y will be infinitely happier if she keeps her true lover
ve, and it is on this basis that Thibaut underscores the
ue of mercy in the first SEES; (11. 46—48).

Having confronted the lady, the first of the triad
personages in the hunt metaphor, the poet-lover addresses
"wolves" in the second gpzpi. Renaut, Phelippe and
ent16 seem to represent the felon envieus who, through
Lsive laughter, seek to negate the effect of the poet's
ls.

In chanson XVII the progression of Thibaut's

onses to the suffering of love range from submission

 

16Wa11ensk61d states that Phelippe is "sans aucun
e Phelippe de Nanteuil," but that the identity of Renaut
of Lorent has not yet been established. P. 57, Rem. VII,

 

to the j
rationa.
which b:
and, fi:
and dir
him at

of his

sufferi
commonl
created
precept
tiating
never (1
Pliant.
ciple c
Such a
discuss
w

XXXV, I]
\

(Gertie;

V, VII,
diSCus:
they w:
tors cc
heart,

49

to the pain inflicted upon him to the formulation of
rational precepts, through the creation of a fantasy

which brings joy and articulates the dangers he faces,

and, finally, to a graphic formulation of expressive images

and direct confrontation of the lady and those who oppose

 

aim at court, closing with a restatement of the sincerity
3f his sentiments.

The range of the poet-persona's response to the
suffering of love clearly exceeds the narrow limitations
:ommonly ascribed to the "courtly lover." The poet-persona
:reated by Thibaut does at times adhere quite closely to the
>recepts articulated by Andreas Capellanus, thereby substan—
:iating Frederick Goldin's statement that Thibaut ". . .

ever departs from his initial posture as an adoring sup—

 

iiant. . . . Thibaut and the trouvéres followed the prin-
iple of 'one genre, one ethic, one style, one voice.”17
uch a statement does indeed apply to chansons II and XII
iscussed at the beginning of this chapter.18 In other

aansons, however, as in chansons I, XVII, XXIII, XXX, and

(XV, Thibaut varies his expressive register and speaks in

 

17F. Goldin, Lyrics of the Troubadours and Trouvéres
iarden City, N.Y.: Anchor Books, 1973), p. 449.

18Other "one style, one voice" chansons are chansons
VII, VIII, X, XV, XVI, and XIX. I have refrained from
scussing these chansons at length in chapter I because
ey will be examined in greater detail in subsequent chap—
rs concerning the role of memory, the conflict of mind and
art, and the theme of the prison of love.

ways '

COUIt

we
"subj
depen
by Pa
or th
that

Throu
on An
devia
Thiba
funct
throv

to hi

Seen
that
indir
repel
to t]
my
the j

with

50

ways that might be considered heretical in terms of the
courtly code.

It is true that in dealing with le grand chant
courtois one is confronted with a highly subjective genre,
"subjective" in the sense that the creation of the lyric is
dependent upon the mood of the "all-pervasive jg" described
by Paul Zumthor. The mood of the speaker——the poet-persona
or the poet—lover——cannot accurately be described by stating
that he consistently portrays the adoring suppliant.
Phrough sometimes subtle, sometimes overt verbal attacks
3n Amors or upon the lady's cruelty, Thibaut's poet—persona
leviates from the standards usually expected of a fin amant.
Thibaut's poet—persona is also highly conscious of his own
function and manipulative power as creator and performer;
:hrough flattery or reproach he molds the lady's response
:0 him.

The theme of the suffering of love, then, when
een in terms of the poet—persona's response to the anguish
hat he feels, proves to be rich in variations of tone and
ndicative of complexity rather than of the stereotyped,
epetitious simplicity which has sometimes been ascribed
> the courtly lyric. Love's suffering is the most per—
rsive theme in Thibaut's lyrics and, as such, has been
le point de départ of this study. In close connection

.th the theme of the "douce dolors d'amors" is the theme

 

 

of memo
and con
within
of the
first s
through
and the
image c
subject

experie

 

51

f memory and the related thought processes of meditation

nd contemplation of the "interior vision" of the lady

ithin the poet—lover's "darkened heart." A discussion

f the dynamic interrelationship between the moment of

irst seeing the beloved, the re—experience of that moment
hrough memory, the pain and solace that remembrance brings,
nd the transformation of the lady into an interiorized

mage or dream vision will further illuminate the completely
ubjective nature of the courtly lyric and the isolation

xperienced by the courtly lover.

 

remem]
sicknv
conso
force
parad
the p
serVe
patio
10in
kept

llnatt
can c
and s
the e
inev:
but a
Treat
Trap]

heap:

CHAPTER II

LI DOUZ MAUS DU SOUVENIR

Like the suffering of love, the experience of
:emembrance is perceived by the poet—persona as a sweet
sickness, one that brings him both pleasure and pain,
:onsolation, and anguish. It, too, represents a major
force binding the poet-lover to his lady. Just as love's
waradoxical suffering exerted a magnetic attraction upon
he poet which he was unable to resist, so does remembrance
verve as a temptation too great to be overcome. A preoccu—
etion with the memory of the beloved is, furthermore, a
ogical outgrowth of the courtly code whereby love must be
ept secret and one's lady was, of course, distant and
nattainable. The physical separation from one's beloved
an only be overcome by mental re—union which brings joy
nd solace as long as one can remain totally involved with
he experience of reliving the memory. The subsequent,
nevitable realization that the vision of the beloved was
ut a dream, a daydream, an illusion, is the source of
reat anguish and suffering which, in courtly poetry, is
raphically represented by the imagery of sickness and of

eaPOnry, darts, stings, and arrows.

52

remem
thoug
is cl
and i
when
invol
medil
of c<
the 1
sweet
here
for j
the :
is 3‘

her.

Pres

Spea

Pict

the

the

 

53

In Thibaut's chansons d'amour the phenomenon of
remembrance is characterized by specific patterns and
thought processes. The moment of first seeing the lady
is clearly a turning point in the poet—lover's existence

and it is most often upon that moment that the poet focuses

 

vhen thinking or dreaming about his lady. Voluntary or
anoluntary recollection of that moment often leads to
neditation upon the lady's qualities and then to a state

)f contemplation whereby the lady exists as a vision which
:he poet-lover gazes upon within his darkened heart. The
:weetness and solace which the lover experiences then ren—
lers the state of "dreaming" preferable to consciousness,

7or it is upon "awakening" that the poet—lover is faced with

he reality of being physically separated from his lady and

 

s stricken with the fear or despair of being forgotten by
er.

Not all aspects of the phenomenon of memory are
resent in every chanson in which Thibaut's poet-persona
peaks of the "sweet pain of remembrance." The total
icture can be formulated only through a discussion of
he various chansons in which the theme occurs. Chanson X
S, however, an exception for it represents a microcosm of
be essential aspects of the theme of memory.

The pretext for the creation of chanson X, as

evealed in stanza II, is based upon the standard courtly

triad
poetw
direC'
throw
cause
to ma
in or
tance
which
conte
his p
rein

exper

is tr

the c
Phenc
in th
Which

level

54

triad, the lover, the lady, and the losengiers. Thibaut's
poet—persona states that he dares not address his lady
iirectly because he fears the "male gent" (l. 12) who,
through guessing or perceiving his passion "will have
:aused great harm" (l. 13). The poet—persona is forced

:o maintain silence and even to feign loving other women

Ln order to deceive the wicked, and it is this forced dis—
:ance, silence, and misrepresentation of his true feelings
which lead him to compose the chanson. At least within the
:ontext of the chanson the poet-persona can safely express
liS praise of the anonymous lady, and can also give free
'ein to his preoccupation with the lady, transforming his
:xperience into artistic creation, just as the lady herself
s transformed into an ideal dream vision.

A more important aspect of chanson X, however, is
he concise articulation of the pattern associated with the
henomenon of remembrance. This pattern, clearly expressed
n the opening stanza, involves a postulated "real" event
hich undergoes subsequent transformation in the poet—
over's mind:

Douce dame, tout autre pensement,

Quant pens a vous, oubli en mon corage.

Des que vous vi premierement,

Ainz puis Amors ne fu de moi sauvage;

Ancois m'a plus traveillié que devant.

Pour ce voi bien que garison n'atent,
Qui m'assoage,

Fors seul de vos remirer
Des euz de cuer en penser.

 

thougi
seeing
the it
are pa
towar<
greate
is to
of cox
the e:
and t]
the pt
POStuI
the 1;
latiow

(ll.

GI

/:21
AC?
G

 

55

Thoughts of the sweet lady expel all other
thoughts from the lover's heart. The moment of first
seeing the lady clearly represents a turning point in
the lover's existence, and the effects of that moment
are paradoxical since, although Amors is no longer savage
toward him, the torments which the lover suffers are even
greater than before. The poet-persona's only consolation
is to reactivate his cherished memories and attain a state
of contemplation in which he can gaze upon the beloved "with
the eyes of his heart." The use of "vous vi" in line three
and the parallel imagery used in lines eight and nine afford
the poet—persona with a means of contrasting what one can
postulate as a real event-—the moment the lover first saw
the lady "with his eyes"——and that which brings him conso-
lation, "seeing her with the eyes of his heart in thought"
(11. 8-9).

The semantically fluid word "corage" is of key
importance in expressing the interplay between sight,

thought, and sentiment. Godefroy renders "corage" as
"intention, désir, sentiment, pensée, axis."1 The inter—
relationship between thought, feeling, and desire-—all
communicated by "corage"-—make of its cognate, "cuers"

("heart"), a center of recollection and of longing. The

 

1Frédéric Godefroy, Dictionnaire de l'ancienne
langue frangaise, Kraus Reprint, II (Paris, 1883), p. 296,

 

transp
the he
the pc

sight

posed
a secc
belove
a dist

dispos

This 1
(Stan:
howeve
full 5
that s
that 5
Now

which

56

transposition of the faculties of the eyes and the heart,
the heart and the mind, gives rise to the metaphor whereby
the poet—lover perceives his heart as an essential organ of

sight and center of amorous desire.

 

The words "oeil" ("eyes") and "corage" are juxta—
posed again in stanza III as the poet—persona calls to mind
a second time the privileged moment of first seeing his
beloved. He restates the fact that that moment effected
a distinct change in his behavior as well as in his inner
disposition:

Ha! si bel oeil riant a l'acointier
M'i firent si mon corage changier;
Que je soloie
Blasmer et despire amors;

Ore en sent mortieus dolors
[11. 23-27].

 

This recollection leads the poet—persona to a state of awe
(stanza IV) as he thinks about the lady's beauty. It is,
iowever, in stanza V that the recurring memory takes on its
full significance. In this stanza, reemphasizing the effect
:hat seeing the lady had upon him, the poet—persona states
:hat it was like being struck with a "sweet, penetrating
>low" which completely overwhelmed him. The impression

which he recalls is not a vague description of her great
teauty, but rather an enumeration of each of the "enemies"
l. 42) which assaulted him: "Front, bouche et nés, vis

res coloré, / Mains chief et cors et bele contenance"

 

11. 40-41).

descx

A....a-—¢
:-

=IAI-u-l

Furti
sive
emphe
Focus
in 53
whicl

feel:

50m
lOVe
memo;
The

he d.
he h.

10m].

(Brut

57

The use of such a list accords with medieval
iescriptions insofar as:
La beauté est la propriété principale, mais
non unique, de la femme. De la découlent plusieurs
régles. Le poéte, tout d'abord, doit observer la

diversité de ses qualités et par conséquentr
multiplier les épithétes.

Puisque l'art imite la nature, le poéte procédera
comme la grande Artiste. Celle—ci forme l'homme,
membre par membre, depuis la téte jusqu'aux pieds.

?urthermore, the enumeration conveys the effect of "exces-
sive meditation upon the beauty of the opposite sex"
emphasized by Andreas Capellanus in his treatise on love.
?ocusing on a particular moment in the past, the poet—lover
in chanson X directs attention to each aspect of the lady
which affected him and which brought forth simultaneous
feelings of grief or pain ("m'ont grevé," l. 42), and love
{1. 45). ‘

t The paradox between the negative experience of
torrow and pain and the positive statement of overwhelming
ove is not the only paradox associated with the theme of
emory. Remembrance is also both voluntary and involuntary.
he poet-lover can consciously call the beloved to mind, as
e does in the opening lines of chanson X, but in doing so

e becomes "lost in thought" or "lost in desire" and no

onger has control of the situation. It is not always

 

2E. de Bruyne, Etudes d'esthétique médiévale, 2
Bruges: De Tempel, 1946), pp. 179-180.

 

 

withi
W"
(l. 6

deali

degre
respc
necti
In st
1. 5)
indit
of ti
and e
"Swee
been
is U
Paraw
"For
the
IESpw

Tesp.

het
her

tiOn

 

58

within the lover's power to summon the image of the "douce
dame"; the interior vision is something which he must await
(l. 6), a cure which will bring him both solace and death-

dealing pains ("mortieus dolors," l. 27).

It is difficult to ascertain precisely to what
degree the interior vision is a voluntary or an involuntary
response to the suffering of love since the syntactic con—
nections that Thibaut provides are often vague or imprecise.
In stanza I, for example, the conjunctions "angois" ("but,"
1. 5) and "pour ce" ("for this reason," 1. 6) would seem to
indicate a logical progression of thought, yet the content
of the stanza does not reinforce the impression of cause
and effect conveyed by the introductory words. To state:
“Sweetlady,. . . ever since I first saw you, Amors has not
been savage toward me; but he torments me more than before"
is to communicate not a logical cause and effect, but a
paradoxical situation. Neither is the following statement,
“For this reason I await no cure, except to see you with
the eyes of my heart in thought," necessarily a logical
response to the torments of love, although it may be the
esponse expected of a passive, "fin ami."

The cure which a lover might normally await would
e to be once again in the lady's presence and gaze upon
er beauty, a favor which would not transgress the limita-

ions of the code of«courtly love. It is plausible to

link“

comb
the pa
throut
effee
prepo:
and 01

inwar.

 

59

conclude that Thibaut consciously intended to communicate
the paradoxical nature of the poet-lover's experience
through the use of an illogical sequence of cause and
effect, although it may be argued that conjunctions and
prepositions were not yet absolutely fixed in Old French,
and one might overemphasize the forcefulness of these
invariable parts of speech.

In relation to the voluntary or involuntary nature
of memory, it is sometimes the complete absence of connec—
tive words or phrases that conveys the impression that the
poet—persona unconsciously becomes absorbed in remembering
the lady's beauty. There are no transition words whatsoever
between stanzas III and IV of chanson X. The poet-lover
experiences great pain (1. 27) and then begins to describe
the marvelous beauty of the lady. The vision itself is, as

it were, a gratuitous gift from God: "Ja li fist Deus por

 

li fere merveillier / Touz ceus a qui ele veut fere joie"

 

(11. 30—31), and the poet-persona himself is among those
ho are struck with awe. The vision in this case is not
something over which the poet-persona has any control; it
is, rather, a gift which comes to him in the midst of his

uffering.
Chanson X proves to be a rich source, conveying

any important aspects of "li douz maus du souvenir." 0f

 

rimary importance is the notion that seeing the lady for

the ff
exists
in tir
Recoll
are p1
"exce:
M
which
the m
for t]
by th(
0f tht
This (
inten:
in tht

is Ca]
throuw

V0111”

 

60

the first time effects a complete change in the lover's
existence. The poet-persona returns to that precise moment
in time, reliving it through voluntary or involuntary memory.
Recollection causes both sorrow and joy; these dual aspects
are present even as the poet-persona attains a state of
"excessive meditation“ upon the attributes of the beloved.
Chanson X does not, however, describe the intense despair
which the poet-persona experiences upon "awakening" from
the meditative state. The anguish of an Orpheus reaching
for the fading shade of his Eurydice, the desperation felt
by the lover upon the disintegration of the interior vision
of the lady, are not conveyed in this particular chanson.
This does, however, represent a moment of great emotional
intensity. Its significance as the inevitable, final stage
in the experience of remembrance is conveyed, in part, by
ichansons XXXIII and XXIX.

In both chansons the poet—lover indicates that he
is capable of attaining a state of extreme joy or sweetness
through his own mental efforts, thereby reaffirming the
voluntary nature of remembrance:
. . . quant g'i pens durement,
De joie toz m'entroubli
[XXXIII, 11. 20—21].
Souvent m'avient, quant je pens bien a li,
Qu‘a mes dolors une doucors me Vient

Si granz au cuer que trestouz m'entroubli
[XXIX, 11. 33—35.

 

hu—

The e
the "
conte
of wh
since

he is

thro
memo]

°f o

61

The expressions "pens durement" and "pens bien," like

the "quant pens a vous" of chanson X, suggest active

 

contemplation on the part of the poet-persona, the goal

of which is to "lose himself." His efforts are effective,
since thinking about the lady leads him to a state in which
he is overwhelmed. In chanson XXIX, furthermore, the post-
persona's state of ecstasy is physical as well as emotional.
He feels as if he were in the arms of his beloved: "EE

m'est a vis qu'entre ses braz me tient" (1. 36).

 

In both chansons, however, the state of euphoria

is finite; its end is marked by "coming to one's senses"

 

("quant 1i sens me revient," XXIX, l. 37), and feelings of

self—betrayal ("Ensi m'ont mi oeil trai," XXXIII, l. 25).

 

The poet-persona has only himself to blame for the extreme
pain which he experiences upon "awakening" from this self-
procured state of heightened desire and transitory, compen—
satory joy. He acknowledges the ultimate failure of his

Efforts, expressing extreme, negative reactions toward
)
himself:
) Et je voi bien qu'a tout ce ai failli,
w Lors me courrouz et ledange et maudi
) Car je sai bien que il ne l'en souvient
} [XXIX, 11. 38—40].

These negative reactions are further compounded
through the use of an inverted application of the theme of

hemory whereby the positive aspectscfifthe theme-—remembrance
w

bf or being remembered by the 1ady——bring joy, but being

 

I. k_

forgo
verb

and i
wersi
§§n3_
relat
negat
the 1

COHCG

means
wulti
he us
has 1
metal
and 1

in aj

base(
firm
term)

Pass

X, l

11.

62

forgotten by her is commensurate to death. The use of the
verb "souvenir" in the negative in line 40 of chanson XXIX

and in lines 29—30 of chanson XXXIII communicate this in—

 

version: "He, las! s'il ne li souvient / De moi, morz sui
sanz faillir" (XXXIII, 11. 29—30). Maintaining the lexical

relationship with the theme of memory—~"souvenir"—-the
negation of the verb underscores the disparity between
the lover's preoccupation with the lady and her lack of
concern for him.

This particular use of inversion represents only one
means by which Thibaut demonstrates his ability to develop
multiple aSpects of a single theme. Another device which
he uses to accent the profound effect which remembrance
has upon the poet-persona is the creation of sustained
metaphors in which the themes of the suffering of love
and the torments and consolation of memory are juxtaposed
in all their paradoxical richness.

Chanson VI affords just such a complex metaphor
Dased upon the all—important moment when the poet—persona
first sees his beloved.3 This event is often described in
:erms appropriate to a coup de foudre insofar as the light

>assing through the lover's eyes to his heart marks the
__________________

3Thibaut deals with this "privileged moment" at
some length in 8 of the 36 chansons d'amour: see chansons
1: 11. 1-9, 23—27; XI, 11. 29—35; XXI, 11. 15-20; XXII,
.1. 13-16; XXIII, 11. 11-16; XXIV, 11. 33—40; XXX,
.1. 30-33; and XXXIV, 11. 10-13.

 

 

birth
image:
marks
isbm
direcw
VI Th:
conve}

first

The ex
theme
mind,
at 50m

pOEt-P

63

.rth of his passion for the lady. Often the Ovidian
magery of the arrows of Amors striking the lover's heart
irks the nascence of love; occasionally the arrow image
; bypassed and the glance from the lady strikes the lover
-rectly and is the source of amorous desire. In chanson
I Thibaut combines the latter two variations in order to
>nvey the profound, delicate sweetness of the moment of
.rst seeing the lady:

Ne me firent lors si oeil point d'ennui,

Ainz me vindrent ferir si doucement

Par mi 1e cuer d'un amoreus talent;

Oncorei est li cous que j'en recui

[11. 29—32].

V Li cous fu granz, il ne fet qu'enpoirier,

Ne nus mires ne m'en porroit saner,

Se cele non qui 1e dart fist lancier

[11. 33-35].

Mes 1a pointe du fer n'en puet sachier,

Qu'ele bruisa dedanz au cop doner

[11. 39—40].
.e extended metaphor of sickness is a variation upon the
eme of remembrance since it, like calling the beloved to
nd, joins the past to the present. The wound, received
some postulated moment in the past, still causes the
Et-persona pain, and even grows worse.

Thibaut's metaphor draws not only upon Ovidian

nmonplaces, but also vaguely recalls the Tristan story
ce Tristan's Iseut la Blonde, the poet—persona's lady,

doctor ("mires," 1. 34), is the only one who can cure

a wounded lover. In the Ovidian tradition, however, the

 

 

iron
poet
sick
clea
upon
sinc

ongo

or a
the
he d
is t
lady
mess
enga
esta
aest
tion
with

Phys

from

brim

 

64

iron point of the arrow that has struck Thibaut's
poet—lover disintegrates within his heart, making his
sickness incurable and permanent. The implications are
clear if not complex: the lover is completely dependent
upon the lady-as-doctor for his very existence, and yet,
since his sickness is love, he wants it to be an incurable,
ongoing state.

Figurative death or joy—-either the lady's rejection
or acceptance of the lover——are the two absolutes with which
the poet-persona is faced and, as befits the courtly code,
he dares not ask boldly for ultimate joy. His recourse
is to respond with due humility, commending himself to the
lady by means of his chanson which he entrusts to her as a
nessage "if she wishes to sing it" (1. 43). Attempting to
engage the lady in singing the chanson is his only means of
establishing communion with her. This spiritual or at least
aesthetic sharing of that which is the poet's unique crea-
tion reflects the lover's like desire for physical union
with the lady, suggested by the restrained references to
fhysical contact with her:

5 Se de sa main i daignoit adeser,

Bien en porroit 1e coup mortel oster

A tout le fust, dont j'ai grant desirrier

[11. 36—38].

T The sweetness of the original experience, the glance
iFom the lady which struck the lover almost imperceptibly,

)

)
l

_fings about, through transformation by time and memory,
)1

if
i)

an angm
as well
pain at
terms;
in ten

singing

situat:
but the
remembi
VI. Re
become

nurture

ewer-g)
and ult
the St)
hetWeer
that w)
fOICe :
Su‘Jses-

the la.

 

65

an anguish which is both painful and desirable, physical
as well as emotional. The physical nature of the lover's
pain and desire must be, however, expressed in metaphoric
terms; the union of lover and beloved can only be suggested
in terms of joining their voices——and heart's desire—-in
singing the lover's chanson d'amour.

In chanson XXI Thibaut describes precisely the same
situation, the moment when the lover first sees the beloved,
but the effects of first seeing the lady and subsequent
remembrance are just the opposite of those found in chanson
VI. Remembrance, far from causing a wound to fester and
become more inflamed, is like a delicate rainfall which
nurtures "good love" and brings it to fruition:

Tout autresi con l'ente fet venir

Li arrousers de l'eve qui chiet jus,

Fet bone amor nestre et crOIStre et florir

Li ramenbrers par coustume et par us
‘ [11. l—4].
i The opening simile suggests not only the gentle,
Ever—growing effects of memory but also the intimate union
and ultimate oneness of two unlike entities, the scion and
:he stock. Remembrance and true love can form similar bonds
>etween the lover and his beloved, nurturing their union so
.hat what becomes sustenance for one is also a life-giving
orce for the other. Once again the poet-persona can only
-uggest metaphorically his desire for physical union with

he lady. He recognizes that he must remain within the

 

L_______l-__-

 

acce

and

othe
firs
poet
This
belc
rat)

trer

"li
ima
the
the
and
the
ing
glc

See

66

accepted limits of humility ("au desouz maintenir," l. 6)

 

and express his sorrow in song.

A further examination of chanson XXI reveals still
other points of contrast with chanson VI. The moment of
first seeing the lady is like chanson VI only in that the
poet—lover likens himself to Piramus and states that only
Thisbe could cure his sickness. The effect of seeing his
beloved was not, however, one of imperceptible sweetness,
rather, it was like being struck by an arrow with a
tremendous, burning impact:

Ahi, bele! con sui pour vous confus!
Qui d'un qarrel me venistes ferir,
Espris d'ardent feu d'amor,
Quant vos vi le premier jor.
Li ars ne fu pas d'aubor
Qui si trest par grant doucor
[11. 15—20].

The word "qarrel," meaning both "arrow" and
"lightning" is intricately related to the subsequent
image of dawn. The morning light on the horizon is like
the arrow's bow, and dawn, like the moment of first seeing
the lady, marks an awakening on the part of the poet-lover,
and symbolizes his new birth. The point of contrast between
the images of dawn and lightning, the fact that the awaken—
ing of passion was a flash and not a gradually deepening

glow, underscore the effect of total transformation which

seeing the lady had on the poet—persona's existence.

 

 

 

 

light
falli
occur
prese

less

more
simp)
desim
the (
it it

fidei

0f t]
iCal
effe
relit

 

67

In chanson XXIV Thibaut makes use of the arrow and
light images separately. It is evident that, although
falling in love with the lady is related to a distinct
occurrence to which the poet—lover returns in thought, the
presentation of the hypothetical "moment" is stylistically
less powerful than that of chanson XXI:

Amors, qui en moi s'est mise,
Bien m'a droit son dart geté
[11. 7—8].

Des que je li fis priere

Et la pris a esgarder,

Me fist Amors la lumiere

Des euz par le cuer passer
[11. 33-36].

The moment of first seeing the lady is given even
more cursory treatment in chanson XXXVI; the poet—persona
simply states that since the first day he saw the lady his
desire to see her has been only too great. Thus, although
the day he saw the lady is acknowledged as a turning point,
ht is not the past but the present feelings of joy and
fidelity which Thibaut emphasizes in this chanson.

In chanson XI the poet—persona states his awareness

3f the function of remembrance on two levels. In a theoret-
Lcal sense, remembering the lady has a soothing, anesthetic

effect whereby a lover would neither feel pain nor seek

'elief from any sickness--the "sickness" of love—-which

fight beset him: "Qui la voldroit souvent ramentevoir, /

 

a n'avroit mal ne l'estefist guerir" (11. 22—23). On a

 

L.__________.

 

LL

more
the

pain
seen

the

Such
Andi
pale
sudt
For
fru:
judt

"E

is
One.

USe

 

68

more personal level, however,—-“persona1" in relation to
the poet—persona--remembrance causes not the absence of
pain, but feelings of deep regret and frustration. The
scene which the lover calls to mind is one in which he,
the lover, was overwhelmed and speechless, daring neither
to speak to the lady nor to glance at her:

Souviengne vous, dame, du douz acueil

Qui ja fu fez par si grant desirrier,

Que n'orent pas tant de pouoir mi oeil

Que je vers vous les osasse lancier;

De ma bouche ne vos osai prier,

Ne poi dire, dame, ce que je vueil

[11. 29—34].
Such behavior accords with the rules of love articulated by
Andreas Capellanus, namely that the lover "regularly turns
pale in the presence of his beloved" and that "when a lover
suddenly catches sight of his beloved his heart palpitates."”
1For Thibaut's poet—persona, however, it is nonetheless a
frustrating, confining situation, and he passes harsh

judgment on himself with the words "coarz" and "chetis":

i"Tant fui coarz, las, chetis! q'or m'en dueil" (l. 35).

 

The absence of metaphor in this description of the
lover's meeting with the lady lends to the incident an air
of realism which is, for the most part, lacking in the
chansons d'amour. Yet the suggestion that the poet-lover
is reliving, through remembrance, the actual moment when he

hnce stood face to face with his beloved and could not make

use of the opportunity is offset somewhat by the description

‘\§_—_—

”Rules XV and XVI, p. 42.

of t
hype
a "r
idea
almc

worl

witT
whom

the

the

ten

IECt

who

tra

Poe

69

of the lady. She is described in such abstract and
hyperbolic terms that she does not at all seem to be

a "real" lady; she is, rather, a symbol, an unattainable
ideal. The lover's description of her is that she is an
almost celestial being whose beauty illumines the whole

world (1. 12) and in whom are all good qualities: . . .

en sa valor sont tout li bien si grant" (1. 13). It is

 

within the lady's power to increase the worth of all those
whom she chooses to welcome, among those fortunate few is
the humble, mute, poet—lover.

It must not be assumed that the transformation of
the lady from "real" to "ideal" is solely a function of
remembrance, for the poet—persona is perfectly capable of
reconstructing a fairly vivid, detailed recollection of his
own feelings at that particular moment. It is only the lady
who is ethereal and who eludes individualization. The
transformation that she undergoes is, rather, a function

f the system of courtly love and also reflects medieval
oetics whereby:
. . . 1a description de la beauté féminine ne
vise en rien a l'objectivité, c'est-a—dire au
réalisme. Inspirée par la rhétorique qui distingue
trois genres de discours: le délibératif, qui vise
a convaincre, le judiciaire, qui accuse ou défend,
le démonstratif . . . qui loue ou blame . . . , la
description déforme sciemment la réalité en mettant
en relief, dans le cas du portrait d'une belle
femme, les valeurs esthétiques que 1e sujet doit

avoir pour inspirer les sentiments que veut
provoquer le discours.5

 

 

5De Bruyne, p. 178.

 

I_ll

rheto
other
tions
of ac
abstr
of “5
Chan;
entim
had c
comp<

more

1967

70

By adhering to two traditions, that of classical
rhetoric as well as the code of courtly love, Thibault and
other trouveres as well create lyrics in which the situa—
tions described are very much removed from any semblance
of actual occurrences and are placed, instead, into an
abstract, idealized realm. With this in mind, the question
of "sincerity" as, for example, whether or not Thibaut de
Champagne was in love with Blanche of Castille,6 becomes
entirely inappropriate. It may well be that the trouvéres
had certain ladies in mind, patronesses perhaps, when they
composed their lyrics, but it seems that the original
"inspiratrice" was forgotten as the poet became more and
more entranced by his own creation:

Le poéme—symbole absorbe les éléments d'une vie,
les oublie et se substitue a eux. Il y a plus
d'échanges entre ce poeme et la vie du poete
qu'entre la vie du poéte et ce poéme. Montaigne
dit que les Essais l'ont fait autant qu'il a

fait les Essais. N'est—ce pas le secret de

toute oeuvre poétique? La Cassandre d'un 'sonnet
pour Cassandre' n'a jamais existé. . . . En
écrivant, il songeait moins a Cassandre qu'au
sonnet pour Cassandre.

Toutes les inspiratrices souffrent de ces con—
fusions. Elles se croient aimées; elles le sont
sous des déguisements ou on ne les reconnait plus.
. . . Des 1e moment qu'on pense a des rimes, on
pense en rimes et le sentiment s'égare. Qu'on
essaie de le rattraper, c'est déja trop tard, car
les mots sont des tyrans.

 

 

7Alfred Glauser, Le Poéme—symbole (Paris: Nizet,
967), pp. 16-17.

[309
affl

deg
sch
Jus
dis
abc

tra

see
the

th:

71

It has already been demonstrated in the discussion
of chanson I (Chapter I, pp. 7-9) that Northern French
poetry was characterized by a stereotyped vocabulary that
afforded the trouvere a certain amount of technical facility
in the composition of his chansons. In terms of the high
degree of lexical repetition and recurrence of favored rhyme
schemes it might well be said that the "words were tyrants."
Just as the creation of rhymes brought with it a concomitant
distancing of the poet from his emotions and from the lady
about whom he was writing, he himself also seems to be
transformed in the process. The poet—persona who speaks
in the lyric is not necessarily the poet in real life; he
seeks, rather, to present himself in the terms expected of
the true, courtly lover and is thereby idealized just as
the lady is.

The transformation of the poet-persona can be seen
most clearly in the extended metaphors of chanson XXXIV,

"Ausi conme unicorne sui," a chanson which is related to

 

the theme of memory in that it also deals with the moment
when the lover first beheld the lady:

Ausi conme unicorne sui

Qui s'esbahist en regardant,

Quant la pucele va mirant.

Tant est liee en son ennui,

Pasmee chiet en son giron;

Lors l'ocit on en traison.

Et moi ont mort d'autel senblant
Amors et ma dame, por voir:

Mon cuer ont, n'en puis point ravoir
[11. 1—9].

 

 

 

site
lite
best
Chr:
wire
inte
the
man
leg
onl

cau

amc‘
in!
the
COT
10)

Dre

 

___rl__w_e7»—ev~——_ f

72

By comparing himself to the unicorn, the poet—persona
situates his own predicament in a larger context, that of the
literary tradition of symbolic animals. In the medieval
bestiary tradition, the unicorn was well—established as a
Christ figure. The legend of the unicorn entranced by a
virgin and then slain as he lay unconscious in her lap was
interpreted as a prefiguration of Christ, born of the Virgin,
thereby becoming man and being sacrificed for the sins of
mankind. In chanson XXXIV Thibaut does not allude to the
legend in its full interpretation but chooses to exemplify
only the sufferings of a mortal who is a martyr for the
cause of love. Since, however, the religious connotations
of the bestiary story were so firmly established, one could
assume with some degree of certainty that the use of the

1unicorn image intensified the expression of human suffering

:and sacralized it, not through direct statement but through
inference. The lover thereby presents himself not only as
the perfect, submissive "fin amant," but as one who is
'completely without fault, representative of pure, chaste

tlove and willingness to die for a higher ideal, not for the
tPrOpitiation of sins, but for love of an ideal lady.

‘ The moment of first seeing the lady marks the
‘beginning of the imprisonment of the poet-lover's heart

tin a prison from which there can be no escape. It is not

.the poet-persona who plays a major réle in the extended

 

mete
his
for

love

OCC)

exp

the

exi

73

metaphor concerning the prison (stanzas II—IV) but rather,
his heart, the symbol of his fidelity and unchanging love
for the lady. Any possible actual meeting between the poet-
lover and the lady is presented in terms of abstractions

in such a way that--as Glauser might say--the original
occurrence is disguised and no longer recognizable.

Both the heart and memory are essential to the
expression of the lover's steadfastness and devotion to
the lady. The heart, through a sort of symbolic dual
existence, unites the lover and the lady; it is at the
same time in prison and near the poet, "en la prison et
de moi [the poet-persona] Eggs" (1. 45). An equally
important bond, however, between the lover and the lady
is remembrance. In lines 42 and 43 the poet—persona

states: "Ne m'en puis je partir pour rien/ Que je n'aie

 

‘le remenbrer. . . ."

‘ By reinforcing the idea that remembrance joins him
)to the lady, the poet—persona reasserts his humanness, an
assertion which is followed by an appropriate love—request
texpressing his need for the lady's help in sustaining his
hheavy burden. His imaginative transformation of himself—as—

tunicorn in the opening stanza of the chanson and the subse—
1 __._____
)quent Roman de la rose-like description of Amors' prison
) . . . . .

tare indeed persua51ve images, but his final plea to the

Hlady is communicated in terms devoid of metaphor, the

 

 

I_IL_

cand
anyt

pret

exis
encc
one
ica]
beye
the
idem
is)
expe
the
Wha
Bot)

enc

Thi

74

candid expression of a lover who knows not how to be
anything but honest with his lady. Stripped of all

pretense, he states:

 

Dame, quant je ne sai guiler,
Merciz seroit de seson mes
De soustenir si greveus fes
[XXXIV, 11. 46-48].

If one feels compelled to speculate upon the actual
existence of a "real" douce dame and the poet's first
encounter with her as Wallenskold and earlier critics did,
one must agree with Glauser that both she and the hypothet-
ical "event" have been transformed in a positive sense,
beyond all recognition. The poet-lover's final plea to
the lady, stated in terms other than the metaphorical
identity with which he first chose to present himself
1is but another effective artistic rendering of the total
experience of remembrance. The unadorned, candid plea for
'the lady's mercy is all the more effective in its simplicity
when contrasted with the eloquence of the preceding metaphor.
‘Both pain and enchantment characterize the lover's experi—
ence; the relationship between the experience as expressed
in the text and any actual "event" is irrelevant to
Thibaut's artistic creation.

Discussion of a few remaining chansons will serve
as a summary and restatement of the essential aspects of
the theme of memory. In chanson XXX it is not the lady's

heart, as in the unicorn poem, but the lady‘s hand which

 

 

 

 

 

 

uni
lad
toe
the
pre

her

75

unites the lover and the lady. The salutation which the
lady gave to the lover at their first meeting, the soft
touch of her tender white hand, is an integral part of

the lover's reexperience of that occurrence. In the poetic

present he can still recall both seeing the lady and feeling

 

her touch so that remembrance is a physical as well as a
mental phenomenon:

La ou Amors la m'amena veoir

Oi je adés un tres douz atochier

Qu'ele me fist de sa blanche main tendre,
Quant par la main me prist au salu rendre
[11. 30-33].

It is, in fact, the physical aspect which is dominant and !
which leads the poet-lover to believe that he has found t
mercy: t

Dame, merci! La main enbausemee
Que nuit et jor bais cent foiz d'un estal
Me fait parler de vos si a cheval
Qu'il m'est a vis que merci as trouvee
‘ [11. 46-49].

The reason for the physical nature of the lover's

experience of remembrance is made plausible by the nature
)
bf the lady's greeting. In other chansons the physical

)

aspect of remembrance is not related to the details of a
specific rencontre; it is, rather, more closely related to
t
the notion of remembrance as essential to the attainment of

a state of excessive meditation which is not without the

h
i

 

bonnotations of a quasi-mystical state of contemplation
t

in which the boundaries of time and space give way to a

pow

the

 

76

powerful "inner reality." The faculties of the five senses
of the poet—persona exceed their natural functions, causing
the poet—lover to exclaim:

. . . ades en li recort,

Deus! ce que virent mi oeil;

C'est sa grant biauté veraie

Qui en pluseurs sens m'essaie,

Que ce que j'ai, ce se combat a moi:

C'est cuers et cors et 1i oeil dont la voi

[XXXII, 11. 3—7].

In this particular case, the totality of the
experience of remembrance, with its visual, emotional and
physical connotations, serves as a source of consolation
to the poet-persona suffering from the pains and distress
of love. The healing powers of memory are directly pro-
portional to the seriousness of the lover's condition;
he is mortally wounded, having lost his heart to Amors.

The recompense afforded by the attainment of a
contemplative state of joyous remembrance cannot, however,
the counted upon consistently to bring healing solace to the
Llover. Although the poet—persona may state, as in chanson
III, 11. 12-14, that remembrance of the lady's beauty is a
'safeguard against all sickness or evils,8 these sentiments
Eare contradicted by chanson XII which illustrates that, in
I

flthe midst of his torment, remembrance only makes the lover's

suffering more acute, his sickness all the more incurable:

‘w

 

8"Tant me plest a remenbrer / Que de touz maus
m'est garanz / Sa biauté a recorder" (II, 11. 12—14).

 

 

one e
soure
emble
when
Sign:

thin

prof
beco
conn
expr
the

shag
desi
expe

imag

 

 

77

Se je pefisse oublier

Sa biauté et ses bons diz

Et son tres douz esgarder,

Bien pefisse estre gueriz;

Mes ne m'en puis mon cuer oster,
Tant i pens de fin corage ‘
[11. 9—14].

In spite of the paradoxical nature of remembrance,
one characteristic remains constant. Whether it is a
source of pain or healing, remembrance is consistently
emblematic of the poet-lover's fidelity to the lady. Even
when, as in chanson XII, release from remembrance might
signify a cure, the lover is unable to keep himself from
thinking about the lady.

Once again the word "corage" indicates to what a
profound extent thoughts of and desire for the lady have
become a part of the lover's innermost self. The complex
connotations of "corage" are a convenient vehicle for the
expression of the convergence of contemplation, love, and
the interior vision of the lady. In chanson XVIII (as in
Chanson X) "corage" signifies that state in which rapture,
desire, and remembrance become one, and the poet—lover
experiences "joyful death" upon beholding the lady's
image reflected in the mirror of his heart:

De ma dame souvenir
Fet Amors lie mon corage,

Qui me fet joiant morir . . .
[11. l—3].

 

Remem
lady,
space
alrea
conte

emoti

assoe
havir
momeI
qual:
Subse
inter
Ofte]
aspee
SEER
cOnt
f1as

expe

78

Qu'ades m'estuet que la voie

Et que sa fresche colors

Soit en mon cuer mireors.

Deus! con s'i fet biau mirer!

[11. 31-34].
Remembrance, then, signifies an immutable bond with the
lady, one which temporarily defies the limitations of time,
space, and separation. Through remembrance the lady—-
already perceived as an ideal——becomes a vision, the
contemplation of which can bring supreme physical and
emotional exultation or extremely acute suffering.

At times Thibaut suggests a definite pattern
associated with the phenomenon of remembrance: that of
having first seen the lady, then recalling that specific
moment to mind, followed by contemplation of the lady's
qualities—-accompanied by either joy or sorrow——and the
subsequent disintegration of the vision and the lover's
(intense despair at being separated from his beloved. Most
loften, however, Thibaut concentrates only upon certain

~aspects of the phenomenon of remembrance, thereby creating

.chansons which are not monotonous or repetitious; on the

 

contrary, each can be seen as a gleaming facet, lending
flashes of insight into the totality of the lover‘s
experience.

‘ The lover's experience conveyed in the chansons
.d‘amour--as already clearly indicated by Zumthor——is that
Of a highly subjective universe dependent upon the all—

pervasive "je" of the poet-persona. Such subjectivity

 

79

is reflected in the lover's ability to transcend time

and distance, at least temporarily, through a psychological
process, namely, remembrance. The same transformation,
accentuating the subjective reality of the lover's state
rather than the physical environment that surrounds him,

is reflected in the third theme expressive of great paradox
in Thibaut's chansons d'amour, the theme of the prison of
love. Although this theme is at least partially related to
the physical constraint placed upon the lover——his inability
to be in the lady's presence and address her directly-—
love's prison is more accurately a representation of
psychological immobility on the part of the lover, a
subjective prison from which he cannot escape because

he is imprisoned by his own emotions.

 

CHAPTER III

EN LA DOUCE CHARTRE EN PRISON

In close association with the two themes previously
discussed is one which also pervades the chansons d'amour
through explicit as well as implicit statements and imagery,
namely the prison of love theme. As it is presented in
Thibaut‘s love lyrics, the state of imprisonment on the
part of the lover is psychological as well as physical.
Having once seen the lady, Thibaut's poet—persona laments
that he can no longer be in her presence for fear of being
spied upon by losengiers and male gent; he must remain,
therefore, in a state of isolation and physical estrangement
from the one to whom he directs all his thoughts and inner-

ost desires. His sense of imprisonment, however, is also
eflected in terms of a psychological immobility, paralysis
f his reason and his will which are in direct and intense
onflict with his heart. He wishes to put an end to a
resumably endless state of suffering but his heart is

'n control; he continues to love despite the pain he under—
oes. Thibaut conveys quite graphically the inner conflict
hat the lover experiences so intensely, first by personi-

ication of the lover‘s rational and emotional faculties--

80

 

“as
be te
carri
furth
the p
hedgu
lover
indep

from

and t
assoc
0f re
upon
the I
Suffe
lati(
Worle
"ever
asso<
c1Ose
theme

a1111:

bet-We

 

81

"resons" vs. "cuers"—-and then by a phenomenon which might
be termed dédoublement. The phenomenon of dédoublement
carries the personification of the mind and heart one step
further by establishing an opposition between the heart and
the poet—persona himself as a thinking, feeling human being.
Dédoublement, then represents a true dual existence; the
lover and his heart, metaphorically separate, each lead an
independent existence. The lover remains in painful exile
from the lady; the heart is joyfully imprisoned with her.

The figurative separation of the lover and his heart
and the subsequent use of imagery of imprisonment are closely
associated to an event of primary importance to the process
of remembrance, namely the moment when the lover first gazed
upon his lady. The interrelationship between remembrance,
the prison theme, as well as the concept of love as sweet
suffering establishes a dynamic thematic triad, the modu—
lations of which further illustrate the subjective, isolated
world of the poet—lover. A clear delineation of the
"events," thought processes and emotional responses
associated with the "sweet prison of love" necessitates
Close examination of the chansons in which the prison
theme is present through explicit description and through
illusion and related imagery.

There is, for example, a fluid interrelationship

Jetween the prison theme and the dialectical opposition

 

 

 

 

betwe
poet-
or "r
the p
essen

hurl

canne
He de
of wt
innur
rease
aTSo
Thiba
Ami-

 

82

between the rational and emotional faculties of the
poet—lover. This intense conflict between mind and heart
or "resons" and "folie," significant to an understanding of

the paradoxical nature of the sweet pain of love, is an

 

essential aspect of the lover's self—imprisonment as well,
namely his inability to be deterred from loving:

Resons me dit que g'en ost ma pensee.

Mes j'ai un cuer, ainzteus ne fu trouvez,
Touz jorz me dit: "Amez! amez! amezl";
N'autre reson n'iert ja par lui moustree,
Et j'amerai, n'en puis estre tornez

[XX, 11. 36-40].

The precedent for the concept of love as madness

cannot be traced to Andreas Capellanus' treatise on love.

 

He defines love as an "inborn suffering," the manifestations
of which are pensiveness, sleeplessness, and excessive,
innumerable fears, rather than as an "inborn conflict“ of
reason and emotion. Love as "folie" is an Ovidian theme,
also of major importance in a work more contemporary to
Thibaut, the Roman de la rose. In the Roman Reason tells
Ami that the suffering of love is nothing bur madness:

Ce qui te fet a dolor vivre,

C'est 1i maus qui amors a non

Ou il n'a si folie non
[11. 3040-3042].1

 

1Translation:
"That which makes you live in torment
Is the sickness that is called love,
In which there is nothing but madness"

(translation mine).

t
I
it

 

But
love

LOVE

reno
The
his
foll
Even

a tr

Stee
the
one
atte
not
My

cate

EXP!
0r (
tra

 

 

But just as Ami remains true to the service of the god of
love, so also does Thibaut's poet—persona continue to serve
Love although his suffering may be for naught.

Even this incapacity on the part of the lover to
renounce love and its pain is related to the prison theme.
The lover is, in a sense, paralyZed, a rational prisoner of

his emotions who sees that unrequited passion is indeed

folly but who can do nothing but endure and remain steadfast.

Even hope that aids him in his torment seems at times to be
a trap as well as a refuge:

. . . en esperance ai un peu de refui.

Li oiselez se va ferir e1 glui,

Quant il ne puet trouver autre garant

[XXIX, ll. 30- -32].
Steadfastness, immobility——both are postures required of
the courtly lover whose situation is characteristically
one of waiting, hoping, and adoring from afar but never
attaining the lady's ultimate favors. Such a situation is
not without inherent tension, tension which is directly
Proportional to the overwhelming experience of first
catching sight of the indescribably beautiful lady.

As has already been established in Chapter II,
"falling in love" is, for Thibaut's poet—persona, an
eXperience whereby the lover is literally "surprised"
3r overwhelmed with love for the lady. This sudden
transformation of the poet—lover's heart, in a spontaneous

resPonse of sheer joy and love for the lady, leaves the

 

84

body of the poet-persona and remains in the presence of
the lady:

Dame, quant je devant vous fui

Et je vous vi premierement,

Mes cuers aloit se tressaillant
Qu'il vous remest, quant je m'en mui
[XXXIV, 11. 10—13].

 

This moment, described so often and so graphically by
Thibaut's poet—persona marks the definitive birth of
passion and determines the basis of love's "madness,"
the irrational suffering which the lover will bear as he
submits to the heart's dominance.

The poet—persona in chanson XXIII is clearly aware

 

that seeing the lady was a turning point in his life and is
also cognizant of the fact that the "reasoning" of his heart
imposes great hardship upon his body, a sweet sickness that

‘may well mean death:
)
t Douce dame, sanz amor fui jadis,
Quant je choisi vostre gente facon;
Et quant je vi vostre tres biau cler vis,
Si me raprist mes cuers autre reson:
De vos amer me semont et justise,
A vos en est a vostre conmandise.
Li cors remaint, qui sent felon juise,
Se n'en avez merci de vostre gré.
Li douz mal dont j'atent joie
M'ont si grevé
Morz sui, s'ele m'i delaie
[XXIII, ll. ll—21].

 

 

That the lover is "captivated" by a single
Experience in the past is underscored by the clear
ielineation between past and present time. The description

3f the moment of seeing the lady, its total affective

 

pas

bet

for

CO]

let

 

85

transformation of the poet—persona as "one without love"
to "one who is completely ruled by his heart" is conveyed
succinctly in lines ll—l4. The remainder of the stanza

deals entirely with the present moment; the static pose

 

of the poet-persona is one of suffering and waiting, his
body immobile and near death. The postulated moment in the
past is, in a sense, "out of time" for what has happened
between the "event" and the poetic present is not accounted
for and, indeed, in the lover's experience, is of little
consequence, all things being subordinate to the passionate

reasoning of the heart.

 

The term "passionate reasoning" implies, of course,
an apparent contradiction in terms, namely that it is at the
height of passion that reason may well cease to function.
Thibaut's poet-persona is not unaware of the paradoxical
hature of the reson of the heart. That this reson seems
indeed quite irrational is expressed more clearly in the
third stanza of chanson XXIII as the poet-persona proceeds
from a rational assessment c0ncerning the god of love to an
expression of his own confusion and inability to evaluate
:he situation:

Mult a Amors grant force et grant pouoir
Qui sanz reson fet choisir a son gré.
Sanz reson? Deus! je ne di pas savoir,

Car a mes euz en set mes cuers bon gré
[XXIII, 11. 22—25].

 

The

the

the

the

use

p0t

 

86

The self—contradictions and the poet—persona's admission
that the doesn't really know (11. 23-24) are indicative of
the conflict of mind and heart and foreshadow a choice which
the lover is to make, namely a "go the way of [love's] mad-
ness." The last semblance of autonomy on the part of the
poet—lover is expressed by the verb "yueil": "Dame, por

vos vueil aler foloiant" (l. 42).2

 

By committing himself to the lady, the lover
acknowledges that he loves not only her, but also the pain
and grief that afflict him. The paradox of loving one's own
suffering stems from the heart's irrational dominance, and

yet the poet-persona reveals in the closing lines of the

chanson that the heart itself is imprisoned: "La granz
biautez . . . bra si lacié mon cuer en sa prison“ (11. 52-54).

 

Within the total context of the poem, the prison
,image is not uncalled-for; it is but the logical summary
statement of the immobility of the attendant poet-lover who
‘has no true choice but to submit to impassioned reason. The
ifigurative separation of the heart from the lover's body
tculminates in turn in the heart's submission and imprison-

}ment by Amors, the lady, or the lady's beauty. This basic

gpattern—-seeing the lady, dédoublement, inner conflict,

 

2A possible alternative line which would indicate
.submissiveness rather than an active choice on the part of
the poet—persona might be: "Dame, si m'estuet aler
1foloiant" (Lady, thus it suits me to commit follyll

 

 

 

 
 

submission and imprisonment-~occur in other chansons as

well, occasionally with a markedly different emphasis.

 

The varied treatment or emphasis given to the prison

theme can be best expressed in terms of medieval rhetoric.
The sometimes cursory treatment of the prison image itself,
as in the closing lines of chanson XXIII, differs markedly
from the presentation of the same theme in a chanson such
as the "unicorn poem" (XXXIV) in which the description of
the prison of love is sustained for three consecutive
stanzas. These two contrasting approaches to an identical
theme represent two equally valid-—and equally difficult——
ways of developing a theme, namely, amplificatio and
abbreviatio.

According to Geoffrey of Vinsauf in the Poetria
M:

The way continues along two routes: there
will be either a wide path or narrow, either a
river or a brook. You may advance at a leisurely
pace or leap swiftly ahead. You may report the
matter with brevity or draw it out in a lengthy
y discourse. The footing on either path is not
i without effort. . . . The material to be moulded,
y like the moulding of wax, is at first hard to the
) touch. If intense concentration enkindle native
ability, the material is soon made pliant by the
mind's fire, and submits to the hand in whatever
way it requires, malleable to any form. The hand
of the mind controls it, either to amplify or to
curtail.

 

t 3Geoffrey of Vinsauf, Poetria Nova [1200——1202],
:rans. by Margaret F. Nims (TorOnto: Pontifical Institute
of Medieval Studies, 1967), pp. 23- 24-

 

w TIM. t C s R p LL 5 .1 T. T. run in el. ......

 

 

88

The uses of abbreviatio with reference to the
various aspects of the prison of love theme are numerous.
In chansons I and II, for example, the inner conflict which

the poet-persona experiences and the prison image are

 

closely interrelated and, as it were, condensed into a
single stanza in each chanson.“ The statement made by
Reason to the lover in chanson I, stanza II, like the
proclamation of Dame Reason in the Roman de la rose, is

that loving or "remaining in prison" is childishness since,
she implies, the lover will never be ransomed. This author—
itative statement, representing the lover's rational side,
renders his anguish even more acute and he admits that he
needs solace. In subsequent stanzas, however, the poet—
persona energetically denounces that tendency within himself

and others to quit Love's service, thereby reaffirming his

 

fidelity to the lady and enhancing his own worth as a true,
faithful lover. The references to the conflict between mind
and heart and subsequent feelings of imprisonment are brief
but effective, assuring the distant lady of his steadfast—
ness, endurance, and wholehearted devotion to her.

The cursory treatment of the prison image and the
inreasonableness of the sickness of love serve a similar

function in chanson II. The lover's preference for

 

“For a further discussion of chanson I, see
Ihapter I, pp. 28—36.

 

rem
rat
fic'

abe

 

89

remaining in prison and, indeed, his preference for death
rather than being ransomed again underscore the lover's
fidelity. The lover himself makes a rational judgment

about his situation: "Tels maus est bien sanz reson"

 

(1. 19). The sickness in question refers to both the
malady of love and the lover's aberrant desire to remain
imprisoned. In contrast to chanson I, the lover demon-
strates no need to refute vigorously the dictates of his
more rational tendencies. Instead, he chooses to live with
the paradox, incorporating into it the notion that his
choice and his suffering seem to make sense (". . . mg
semble reson," l. 23) since the lady is so exceedingly
beautiful. Once again, the conflict between mind and heart
is resolved by fidelity--imprisonment——this time in expecta—
tion of seeing the lady and experiencing "joyous torment"
(l. 38).

One aspect of the theme of the prison of love which
does not seem to have been integrated into the concise
expressions of the abbreviatio is the reference to the
moment of seeing the lady as a turning point in the poet—
1over's existence. Only on one occasion does Thibaut's
Poet-persona refer briefly to a glance from the lady and
its consequence, that his heart remains "fixed" by it:

Chancon di 1i sanz mentir .
C'uns resgarz le cuer me tient

Qui li vi fere au partir
[XXXIII, 11. 36—38].

 

 

90

In this particular enygi the poet—persona's intent is to
emphasize the bond that exists between himself and the lady;
his heart remains "caught" in her glance, suspended in a
timeless state, totally devoted to the lady. Thibaut is
also capable, however, of using brief references to the
prison theme to the advantage of the poet—persona. The
egygi of chanson XXV stresses that, since the lover is
perhaps an unwilling prisoner, a hostage who has given
himself up only after a hard—fought battle, it is the
responsibility of the lady, as keeper of the prison, to
reward him who is kept there in order to induce him to stay:

Dame, qui veut son prison bien tenir

Et si l'a pris a Si dure bataille,

Doner li soit le grain apres la paille

[XXV, 11. 36—38].

The abbreviatio form of reference to the prison
theme is used by Thibaut to produce still another effect,
one which combines both humor and joy as the poet-persona
uses to full advantage the word "llér" meaning both "bound"
or "tied" and "joyful" or "happy":

Amors me lace et prent

Et fet lié et joiant,

Por ce qu'a soi m'apele

[XV, 11. 20-22].
The possibility for a double—entendre based upon the word
'lié" is certainly present. At any rate, the light-hearted
:one of these lines is in stark contrast to the rather

>minous foreboding conveyed by similar lines in chanson

IXVIII.

 

 

91

Fort sont li laz et grant li couvertor
—-Ce n'est pas gas—-

En que cil est qui aime par amor

[XXVIII, 11. 25-27] .
One certainly could not prove that Thibaut consciously
patterned these lines concerning the ambush of the lover
after similar passages in the Chanson de Roland:

Halt sont li pui e li val tenebros,

Les roches bises, li destreit merveillos

[11. 814—815].

Halt sont li pui e tenebros e grant

Li val parfont e les ewes coranz

[11. 1830-1831].5
The metrical similarities between the lines in Thibaut's
chanson and those of the epic as well as Thibaut's use of
the word "gas," are the only internal evidence that Thibaut
intentionally wished to allude to the chanson de geste.
The word "gas" (boast or joke), rarely used in the courtly
lyric, recalls the epic tradition in that it refers to the
almost ritual boasting of the knights gathered around the
campfires on the eve of battle. If Thibaut's lines awakened
stirrings of association and recognition on the part of

those who listened to his lyrics, the sinister implications

of the lover's ensnarement would indeed be effectively

 

5Translation:
"High are the peaks, and the valleys shadowy,
The rocks dark, the straights awesome

High are the peaks and shadOWy and grand,
The valleys deep and the waters swiftly flowing"
(translation mine).

 

 

92

communicated. The lines in the Roland occur when
Charlemagne's anguish is particularly acute, first when

he is overcome with a sense of foreboding concerning his
nephew's fate and, secondly, when he sounds his trumpet on
response to Roland's vain call. It is too late; Roland's
death follows soon afterward. One may say that such an
interpretation places the lover's suffering on too grand

a scale, but Thibaut is not at all reticent about comparing
the poet-persona to such figures as Jason (I, l. 4), Piramus
(XXI, l. 12), and Julius Caesar (V, l. 17). In chanson
XXXIV there is, in fact, an overt reference to the lover's
struggle as being more difficult than the strife endured by
Roland and Oliver. By allowing the fullest connotative
interpretations of such references, one discovers the rich-
ness that the rhetorical device of abbreviatio has to offer
when used within a highly stylized genre such as le grand
chant courtois.

This dependence upon allusion and the piecing
together of many chansons in order to apprehend the full
ramifications of any particular theme obviously differen—
tiates abbreviatio from its rhetorical counterpart,

amplificatio. Instead of confining an entire theme to

 

rather narrow limits, amplificatio seeks to present the

theme within the context of a single poem, in all its

diversity:

 

 

93

. . . although the meaning is one, let it not come

content with one set of apparel. Let it vary its

robes and assume different raiment. Let it take

up again in other words what has already been said;

let it reiterate, in a number of clauses, a single

thought. Let one and the same thing be concealed

under multiple forms—~be varied and yet the same.6

More than just a single means of amplificatio is at

the poet's disposal. The above citation exhorts the poet to
approach the same thought in different ways which might be
supplemented by the use of periphrasis as well as by overt

or hidden comparisons. The result would be a poem in which

various approaches or references to the same theme recur
from stanza to stanza. Still another means of amplificatio
involves the use of personification and sustained metaphor
whereby the theme unfolds with more continuity, each stanza
growing from and expanding upon the previous one, rather
than simply saying the same thing in a different way.

Two of Thibaut's chansons illustrate the above tech-
niques with reference to the prison theme in a particularly
effective way. Chanson XXXII, "Even though I lament about
loving," exemplifies the former technique of reiterative

amplification, and chanson XXIV,7 the unicorn poem, the

latter, what one might call sustained or developmental

amplification.

 

 

6Geoffrey of Vinsauf, p. 24.

7For a discussion of these chansons and their rela—
tionship to the theme of memory, see Chapter II, pp. 71-74
and 75—76.

 

 

 

LL-lfiiclujs e aim—4,. _;.:..__-

94

The main aspects of the prison theme which are
recounted in chanson XXXII are the effect of having seen
the lady, a distinct experience of dédoublement, the
imprisonment of the heart and various pleas for re—union
with the heart, ultimately signifying the lover's desire

to be "imprisoned," in a sense, by the lady and kept in

her presence as is his heart. There is a clear exposition

of the major thematic components in the opening stanza:

Por ce se d'amor me dueil

Si ai je grant confort,

Car ades en li recort,

Deus! ce que virent mi oeil:

C'est sa grant beauté veraie

Qui en pluseurs sens m'essaie,
Que ce que j'ai, ce se combat a moi:
C'est cuers et cors et li oeil dont la voi;
Mes 1e cuer a, qu'est de greigneur pouoir,
Or me dont Deus les autres vueille avoir!

[11. l-lO].

Seeing the lady (11. 4—6), subsequent inner conflict
(1. 7), separation from his heart, the heart's capture ‘
(11. 8-9), and the lover's desire to be entirely "captured"
by the lady (l. 10) will be reiterated in subsequent stanzas,

thereby varying the form—-or "raiment"——but ultimately

 

conveying the same message.
In stanza II the separation of the lover from his
heart is presented as a serious wound inflicted upon the

lover by Amors. It is at this point that the notion of

dédoublement is presented most distinctly: "En sa prison

biau m'est quant je l'i voi" (l. 18). The poet—persona is

 

 

95

clearly separate from his heart, excluded from Amors'
prison, and gazing longingly at his heart which carries

on its independent existence within the prison walls. The
heart is thereafter presented as being in an enviable pre-
dicament. The lover seeks not to free the heart but,

rather, to be privileged to be a captive with it, and

 

closes both stanzas I and II with similar please: "Or me
dont Deus les autres vueille avoir!" (l. 10), and "Or li
dont Deus garder a mon vouloir!" (l. 20).

 

This sense of dédoublement recurs in different forms
at the close of each of the following stanzas. In stanzas
II and III the poet—persona makes a rational appeal to the
lady for the restoration of his heart, opening each stanza
with a rather commonplace, four—line exemplum, followed by
a logical application of the exemplum to his own situation.
Instead of referring to himself in a somewhat grandiose
manner through allusions to legendary or historical super-
heroes, the poet—persona draws upon ordinary circumstances
which illustrate, clearly and directly, what might be termed
“acceptable social behavior":

Dame, qui pert au besoing
Por son ami ce qu'il a,

Se cil 1e guerredon n'a,
Honiz en est par tesmoing
[11. 21—24].

Se je a un honme doing
—-Aucuns de tels genz i a-—
Demain autant me harra

Se ne 1i remet el poing
[11. 3l—34].

 

 

 

Fl. Tr. a: “H II t .l.

 

 

 

96

The use of the battle reference alludes to the poet—lover‘s
personal struggle, characterized by inner conflict and
severe wo nds, and yet, it is at the same time a curiously
manipulative image. The poet-lover has, of course, lost
that which is most vital and most precious-—his heart-—for
the sake of his beloved amig. The appeal to the lady is
both rational and emotional in this particular case; it

is first of all her responsibility and to her benefit to
restore the lover's heart to him. The reciprocal expec-
tations between "friends" in battle demands it, and, in

a courtly sense, she should not allow her servant to be
shamed by others, for the worth [valors] or reputation of
one's lover enhances one's own worth as well.

The exemplum used in stanza IV, drawn from the
realm of commercial interchange, is an equally manipulative
one. Through it the poet—persona establishes both his own
uprightness——the assertion that he is in debt to no one-—
and intimates the possibility of a cessation of the rela-
tionship between the one who takes [the lady] and the one
who gives. The use of the word "hate" has a double impact.
Within the context of official lending of money, goods, or
services, it is used in a legalistic sense. Just as the
word “amer" can be used in a feudal sense to indicate
those to whom one owes fealty or protection, so does "hair"

indicate the official severance of such a relationship,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

97

without any emotional connotations. When seen in connection
with the relationship of lover and lady, however, the emo-
tional implications are nonetheless present. It is as if
the poet—persona were issuing a vague threat to the lady,

a threat which is offset, however, both by his admission
that, ideally, one should give without any thought of recom-

pense8

and by his address to her in the closing lines of
stanza IV:

De ce qui miens defist estre vos pri;

Que n'espoir pas, a vostre douz senblant,

Que la merciz me viengne au cuer devant

[11. 38—40].

The sweetness that the poet-lover perceives in the
lady's manner sets the tone for the fifth and final stanza
in which the lover speaks more humbly and uses as his point
of reference not exempla and their logical ramifications but,
rather, his personal experience. It is in this stanza that
the phenomenon of dédoublement is used to its best advantage
as a vehicle that effectively communicates simultaneously
the rational thought processes of the poet—lover and the
equally forceful-—and ultimately more forceful-~emotional
experience that he is undergoing. The poet-lover is afraid;
he offers to await humbly and passively any sweet favor that

the lady might deign to grant and realizes, on a rational

level, that there is nothing he can do as long as his heart

 

 

8"Mult grant sens a a biau querre / Et a doner sanz

requerre" (11. 35—36).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

98

still trembles in prison. But that very prise de conscience

 

on the part of the lover is disrupted by a more emotional
outburst in which he expresses amazement at the enchantment
that keeps his heart captive:

. . . le cuers en trassaille

En la prison, la ou vos la tenez.

Deus! fu ainz mes cuers si bien enchantez?

Nenil, certes!

[11. 46-49].
This futile and, as the lover perceives it, fatal conflict
between the lover's rational and emotional faculties can
only be resolved by a change from the lover's present state
to one which would integrate both body and heart, reason and
"folie." This plea for reunion with the heart is expressed

in the closing lines of stanza V just as it has been

expressed, in different ways, in the closing lines of

 

each of the previous stanzas: . . . Mes se li cors pris

 

fust / Avec le cuer, ja ne li desplefist" (11. 49—50).

 

The love-request is not without specifically erotic
overtones even though it is stated in an acceptably indirect
manner. The implications are, nevertheless, that the lover
would like his body as well as his heart to be one with the
lady. The 2239i serves as an additional compliment to the
lady's beauty and reassures her that the lover is willing
to suffer on her behalf, as he already has, in bearing the
sweet burden of love. The chanson as a whole is a series

of variatiOns on the theme of love's prison and the

 

 

99

experience of dédoublement. Through the use of reiterative
amplification, the poet-creator, Thibaut, varies the expres—
sion of the poet-lover's erotic request; the request itself
remains constant, namely that the lover be united with his
heart and with the lady.

In the unicorn poem (XXXIV) Thibaut makes use of
sustained or developmental amplification of the prison
theme, including all of its most essential aspects: the
importance of the moment when the lover gazed upon the lady,
the separation of the lover's heart from his body, and a
sustained metaphor which delineates the nature of the prison
of love. Absent from the unicorn poem is the notion that
love is "fglief or that the lover experiences great conflict
between reason and emotions. He is, on the contrary, of
singleminded devotion to the lady; the dédoublement that he
experiences takes on a unique character, expressed in the
final lines of the last stanza.

Once again, references to medieval rhetoric will
serve to clarify the structure of this chanson which
deserves close analysis just as it has merited the un-
mitigated praise of literary historians.9 Thibaut's use

of sustained metaphor is consistently seen as this chanson's

 

9Gustave Cohen, for example, refrains from any
textual criticism, but states: "Mais des chansons d'amour,
celle que je préfére est l‘Unicorne,“ and proceeds to cite
the chanson in modern French, p. 60.

 

 

 

100

most outstanding feature, but other devices as well render
the poem even more effective in terms of its theme--the
prison of love-—and its artistry.

In the opening stanza Thibaut employs one of
Geoffrey of Vinsauf's recommended means of amplificatio,
that of an overt comparison:

A third step is comparison, made in accord with

one of two laws-—either in a hidden or in an overt
manner. Notice that some things are joined deftly
enough, but certain signs reveal the point of junc-
ture. A comparison which is made overtly presents
a resemblance which signs explicitly point out.
These signs are three: the words more, less,
equally. °

As has already been stated in Chapter II (pp. 71-74),
the overt comparison between the lover and the unicorn has
implications that go beyond the simple exposition of the
unicorn story. The lover is also, by extension, a Christ
figure, one who is a completely innocent victim, repre—

senting unsurpassed, selfless love. The two overt com-

parisons made in stanza I, "Ausi conme unicorne sui“ and

 

"Et moi ont mort d'autel senblant" also emphasize, in turn,

 

the aspects of the theme that will be expanded in subsequent
Stanzas: the sight of the lady and the symbolic "death" or
loss of the poet-lover's heart which is locked in Amors'
Prison. It may be seen, then, that through a simple

exposition relating a story taken from standard bestiary

 

1°Geoffrey of Vinsauf, p. 25.

 

 

101

tradition, Thibaut draws upon comparisons that are both
overt and hidden11 and, at the same time, establishes the
basis for the extended metaphor that is to follow.

The heart's imprisonment is directly related to the
moment when the lover first gazed upon the lady. It is at
that precise moment that the lover became cognizant of the
phenomenon of dédoublement essential to the theme of the
prison of love:

Dame, quant je devant vous fui

Et je vous vi premierement,

Mes cuers aloit si tressaillant
Qu‘il vous remest, quant je m'en mui.
Lors fu menez sanz raencon

En la douce chartre en prison . . .
[11. 10—15].

Sight of the lady and the lover's desire for her
that was born at that moment are incorporated into the
prison itself, the pillars of which are of desire ("talent,“
l. 16), and the doors, of beautiful sight ("biau veoir,"

l. 17). The chains of fair hope that bind the lover's
heart suggest the sweet promise of the future as well as
the lover's projected fidelity to the lady, his willingness
to endure and remain steadfast for an undetermined length
of time.

This brief description of the prison also conveys

the paradox inherent in the courtly lover's situation. The

\—___‘_

11Geoffrey states that hidden comparisons are
preferable: "This type of comparison is more artistic;
Its use is much more distinguished," p. 25.

 

 

 

102

restrictive or pain-inflicting elements of the prison

cell, the pillars, the heavy doors, and the chains are

all tempered by qualities that compensate for the lover's
suffering. The prison cell itself is sweet; its component
parts are rendered less unbearable by the presence of
desire, sweet sight, and hope. The quite real impact of
these qualities is suggested by their reification into the
c0ncrete form of a prison and represents a transition stage
from remembrance of a specific moment to withdrawal into a
more subjective, private universe where the experience is
transformed into a personal confrontation between the poet-
lover and his emotions. As the poet—persona becomes more
and more entranced by the re—experience of the moment when

he first saw the lady, he perceives the prison not in terms

 

of its concrete, structural elements—-pillars, doors, and
chains--but in terms of personifications that move and have
distinct responsibilities and character traits. These fig:
ures, the doorkeepers of Amors' prison, dominate stanza III
and reinforce the notion of paradox suggested in the second
stanza:

De la chartre a la clef Amors
Et si 1 a mis trois portiers:
Biau Senblant a non 1i premiers,
Et Biautez cele en fet seignors;
Dangier a mis a l'uis devant,

Un ort, felon, vilain, puant
Qui mult est maus et pautoniers.
Cil troi sont et viste et hardi
Mult ont tost un honme saisi
[11. 19—27].

 

 

 

 

 

103

In stanza III the paradox of love is suggested not
by the disparity between a single item's function and its
compensatory qualities [i.e., the chains that bind and yet
constitute "fair" hope] but rather, by distinctions between
the personified figures. The positive, desirable qualities
of Biau Senblant and Biautez that suggest the moment of see—
ing the lady and her disposition toward the lover are offset
by the much more lengthy and graphic description given to
Dangier. The Dangier is presented as org, £2193, vilain,
pgant, maus, and pautoniers underscores the perilousness
of the lover's situation. This description and the fact
that even Biautez and Biau Senblant are "clever and bold"
and "have seized many a man“ establish thematic unity with
the dramatic events of the first stanza in which the lover
and the unicorn, enraptured by what they saw, suffered
betrayal and death.

The ominous threat of danger, struggle, and death
prevail in stanza IV as the poet—persona searches for a
means of survival. Through establishment of a chiasmus-
like structure composed of the theme words of the stanza,
it becomes evident that, even in the face of overwhelming
Opposition, the poet—persona is capable of remaining
Steadfast, although his pose must be one of submission.

The chiasmus of nouns and verbal elements is as follows:

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ln...

104

Qui porroit sousfrir les tristors
Et les assauz de ces huissiers?
anues Rollanz ne Oliviers

Ne vainquirent si granz estors;
Il vainquirent en conbatant,

Mes ceus vaint on humiliant.
Sousfrirs en est gonfanoniers;
[11. 28-34].

 

 

The outer components of the chiasmus—like pattern, sousfrir
and sousfrirs, enclose a battle image in which the poet-
persona intimates that his case is hopeless since not even
the most valiant Chevaliers, Roland and Oliver, could with—
stand the doorkeepers' assaults. The three successive uses
of vaincre-—dominating the inner part of the chiasmus that

receives the most emphasis——indicate a prise de conscience

 

on the part of the lover. Vaincre in its usual, active
sense, may be the way for most men-—or above—average heroes
like Roland and Oliver——to succeed in battle, but it is not
the solution for the poet—lover. He perceives that his only
recourse in his personal distress is to passivity, humility,
and long—suffering. Help must come from without (merci,

l. 36) rather than from his own active participation.

The poet—lover's realization and his acceptance of
suffering as a standard—bearer (gonfanoniers, l. 34), in a
sense, mitigate the gravely threatening nature of the three
doorkeepers and dispel all fears on the part of the lover
save one, that he might somehow fail in his love for the
lady. It is on this subdued note of fear that the poet

Opens the final stanza in which the lover reaffirms his

 

 

 

105

fidelity to the lady and expresses in still another way
the paradox of his heart's imprisonment. The phenomenon
of dédoublement takes on a unique characteristic in this
chanson in that it does not indicate that the lover and
his heart carry on separate, individual existences but,
rather, that the heart exists simultaneously with the lady
and near--or "with"--the lover. Such duality reinforces
the lover's declaration of fidelity to the lady:

Ne m'en puis je partir pour rien

Que je n'aie le remenbrer

Et que mes cuers ne soit adés

En la prison et de moi pres.

The metaphor of the prison of love as a building
with walls, pillars, doors, chains, and doorkeepers is
replaced by the lone figure of the poet-lover, imprisoned
by memory in a subjective universe where "real" existence
is centered in the heart. The inability to “depart from
loving," the persistence of memory, and the timelessness
of the heart's imprisonment are indeed but another config—
uration of love's prison, one from which there is no escape
save that of humbly asking for mercy, as the lover does in
the envoi:

Dame, quant je ne sai guiler,
Merciz seroit de seson mes

De soustenir si greveus fes
[11. 46—48].

The prison of love theme is thus amplified in a

sustained manner from the first stanza of the chanson to

 

 

 

106

the last, using the unicorn legend as a point de départ.
Thibaut's use of the legend incorporates the major aspects
of the prison theme; the definitive change in the lover's
life upon seeing the lady, the joy that he felt upon behold—
ing her beauty, and the ultimate danger--loss of his heart,
captivity, imprisonment, and "death"——inherent in such a
situation. The brief description of the physical and
compensatory, desirable aspects of Love's prison, the
subsequent appearance of personified qualities that threaten
the lover and the final realization that the poet—persona is
held captive by his owu desire to serve the lady and his
incapacity to forget her, present the most complete and
coherent development of the theme in any single chanson

by Thibaut. All that can be found in any other chansons

are short references to the prison theme which may serve

to illustrate Thibaut's proclivity toward versatility and
his tendency to develop a single theme in a multitude of
ways.

As has already been stated in the opening pages of
this chapter, the paralysis that the lover often experiences,
his inability to overcome emotion with reason, and the
notion that even hope is a trap are variations upon the
theme of the prison of love. This tendency toward paralysis,
a psychological manifestation of the theme of the prison of

love, serves as a constant reminder that it is the lover's

 

 

107

own emotions that constitute the prison walls. In chanson
XXXV, speaking of the cruelty and indifference of his lady,
the poet-persona states:

Puis que pitiez est faillie,

Bien m'en devroie partir;

Mes sens m'en semont et prie, .

Mes mes cuers nel veut sousfrir, H

Ainz me het por 1i servir;

Tant aime sa seignorie

[XXXV, 11. 19—24].

The conflict between mind and heart, although it

does not take on the definitive aspects of dédoublement,
is clearly present, as is the basic inner conflict of the
poet-persona. The paralyzing, prison—like dilemma of self-
deprecation, and the inability to break from the lady's
sovereignty cannot be resolved by the lover. Since he is
further incapacitated by fear which prevents him from
addressing the lady directly, the lover's only wish is
to retreat from reality and take refuge in sleep and in
dreams wherein he might hold his lady "all his life":

Ma grant joie en dormant iere

Si granz que nel puis conter.

En veillant ne truis maniere

De ma dolor conforter
The lover's ultimate wish is, of course, that Amors would

reverse the situation so that he could forget her while

sleeping and be with her in his waking state, but such

 

wishful thinking does little to alter his basic situation

of unrequited desire.

108

Chanson VII as well is marked by feelings of
powerlessness, inability to speak to the lady, and conflict
between what the lover does and what he feels he ought to do.
In this chanson, however, the lover does not seek refuge in
dreams; he can only remain in a fixed posture of adoration,
supplication, and endless waiting.

Although reason has been extinguished in his heart
(. . . mon sens el cuer estaindre, l. 18), the lover's
rational faculties are still operative, making his torment
even greater. He realizes that one ought to rid oneself of
desperate sorrow ("Dolonte desesperee / Doit on geter puer,"
11. 8—9), but he is unable to do so. These lines are but
one of a series of statements expressing the poet-persona's
incapacity to change his situation, to alter his stance as
attendant lover:

Une dolor enossee

S'est dedenz mon cuer
Que je ne puis oster fuer
Por nule riens qui soit nee

[11. 1-4].

Dame, ainz ne m'osai conplaindre .
[1. 15].

. . . n'ai pouoir
De vous dire mon voloir [11. 19-20].

Bien voi que n'i puis ataindre
Par nule mandement
N'en qier, voir, parler avant
Ne aillors ne m'en vueil plaindre;
[11. 22—25].

N'os entrer en son repaire [1. 29].

 

FEET—7'

 

 

109

Such reiterations are consistently followed by a recognition
on the part of the poet-lover that his only true recourse is
passivity and waiting, a posture adopted also by the victim—
lover of the unicorn poem whose standard—bearer in love's
battle was suffering. Although it does not culminate in
an explicit formulation of the prison of love theme, the
articulation of the lover's immobility in chanson VII is
but a modulation of that very theme. The suffering of love,
dolors d'amors is, in a sense, inseparable from the notion
that love is a prison from which the ideal courtly lover
cannot escape, even though at times reason tells him that
love is folly.
Still another variation of the imprisoned lover is

the portrayal of him as a bird in a trap:

Enviz prent nus nul oiselet au broi

Q'il ne mehaint ou ocie ou afole,

Et Amors prent tout autretel conroi

De mult de ceus qu'ele tient a s'escole
It is not only the lover, however, who is or should be
like a snared bird. In another chanson the poet—persona,
addressing his jongleur in the envoi, asks him to sing as
persistently-—and presumably as loud——as a bird in a trap:

Chancon va t'en droit a Raoul noncier

Qu'il serve Amors et face bel acueil

Et chant souvent com oiselez en breuil

[XI, 11. 39—41].

These two minor variations upon the prison theme,

although interesting, are not as insightful as Thibaut's

 

 

 

 

 

110

more manipulative uses of the theme of the prison. Not
only does Thibaut stress the lady's responsibility toward
her prisoner, he also at times implies that the lady herself

is, in a sense, imprisoned. In chanson XVII the lady,

 

described as a beautiful white deer, dwells in a retreat
that is guarded by wolves, the "felon envieus," who cause
great hardship for the courtly. This chanson indeed con—
tains the most striking images of hardship for the courtly
lover found in Thibaut's repertoire, images whose function
is dual. The burning village, the dying knight, the des—
perate hunter and the starving wolf all graphically convey
the intense despair experienced by the rejected lover.

Implicit also is the notion that the lady-as-deer may also

 

be faced with imminent death, surrounded by her ferocious
natural enemies, the wolf—losengiers. Would it not be to
her advantage to rescue her true lover and thereby protect
herself from ultimate betrayal and destruction by the
deceitful courtiers who have only false love to offer her?

The implication that the lady may suffer from her
own sort of isolation is even clearer in chanson X:

Se je ne puis vers vos aler souvent,

Ne vos poist pas, bele, cortoise et sage,

Que je me dot forment de male gent

Qui devinant avront fait maint damage;

Et si je faz d'ailleurs amer senblant,

Sachiez que c'est sanz cuer et sanz talent
[X] 1].. 10-15] a

 

 

 

111

The situation created in this stanza suggests a
reversal of the usual roles of lover and lady. Once again
it is the villainous male gent that prevent the lover from
seeing the lady, but the suggestion that this separation is
painful for the lady as well as for the lover is novel and
unique among the chansons of Thibaut. Implicit also is

that the lover has the freedom to "faire senblant d'amer

 

ailleurs" even though, of course, his sole motivation for
doing so is to deceive the losengiers. Reassurances of his
fidelity to the lady serve to offset somewhat the suggestion
that—-Amors forbid!—-the lover can take advantage of super—
ficial liaisons in the guise of a higher ideal, that of
distracting those who might wish to slander him or the lady.
Such a declaration on the part of the poet-lover emphasizes
nonetheless that the lady might do well to grant him mercy
and reward his unfailing fidelity to her.

The suggestion of manipulation on the part of the
poet-persona, however subtle it might be, is yet another
manifestation of what might once have been considered

atypical of the grand chant courtois. Passivity, stead—

 

fastness, fidelity and long—suffering——characteristics
attributed to the stereotyped courtly lover——indeed con—
stitute the lover's prison but Thibaut's poet-persona is

also capable of a reverse application of the prison theme.

 

 

112

This reverse application constitutes still another
modulation of the prison of love theme but, more
importantly, reveals the somewhat protean nature of
the poet—persona created by Thibaut. This persona,
whether or not he represents an extension of Thibaut
himself, is nevertheless quite similar to Frappier's
description of the poet: "En somme, la personnalité
de Thibaut de Champagne se révele complexe, un peu
énigmatique, difficile a saisir."12 The poet—persona

as well is at times "difficult to grasp“; refusing to

be consistently the one who is imprisoned, he seeks to

give the lady a different perspective on her own situation.
This element of persuasiveness--manipulation if you will——
is indicative of that which characterizes another major
portion of Thibaut's work, his debats and jeux—partis.

The authoritative voice of Thibaut as a poet, interacting
with fellow trouveres and fictitious personages as well,

will be traced first in the chansons d'amour and then in

the above-mentioned forms of amoebean verse.

 

 

12J. Frappier, La Poésie lyrique en France aux XIIe

et XIIIe siecles (Paris: C.D.U., 1966), p. 175.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER IV

BONS ROIS THIEBAUT, SIRE, CONSEILLIEZ MOI

The voice of Thibaut's poet-persona in the chansons
d'amour has, at times, taken on an insistent tone that
ranges from one of gentle persuasion to outright defiance
and manipulation. This assertive tone is also evident in
the chansons through the presence of an extensive series
of statements that might be called "the precepts of love
according to Thibaut." The authoritative nature of these
Statements, along with some of the bolder expressions of
the poet—lover already discussed in previous chapters,

, serve to unite medieval genres which are usually considered
quite distinct from one another, the chansons and the poems
in dialogue form, the jeux—partis and débats. When one
considers that the self-assuredness exhibited by the ERIE
Thiebaut of the amoebean verse is but an amplification of
the occasional assertiveness exerted by the poet-persona

Of the chansons, one finds that the major distinction
between the genres is only their respective subject matter.

The poet-persona of the chansgns, for the most part,
never deviates from the norms of acceptable courtly behavior.

He functions within the established limits, tempering his

113

 

 

 

114

more daring statements with reassurance of fidelity,
steadfastness, and love for the lady. The erotic love
request is couched in acceptable metaphorical terms. In

the game of the jeux-partis, however, explicit discussions

 

of sex and the joys of physical embraces are fair play; the
lady no longer is a distant, unattainable ideal. In the
jeux-partis and in the débats Thibaut speaks with self-
confident authority, a tone which should not seem surprising
or incongruent with that of the poet-persona of the chansons
who, as faithful servant of Amors, outlines what one must do
to prove himself worthy to remain in Love's service.

It is interesting to note that in the Southern

troubadour lyric the distinctions between what was acceptable

 

subject matter for the gaggg (the Southern equivalent of the
Northern chanson) and the joc partit (jeu-part1) did not
bear the same differentiation as later developments in the
North. As René Nelli has pointed out, many troubadour lyrics
reflect sentiments that are much more explicitly erotic than
those of the refined courtly lyric. He terms such senti-
ments as "amour chevalresque," the kind of love

qui semble avoir été pratiqué, dans la Vie réelle,

Par les princes et leurs nobles amies. . . . Bien

que ses démarches fussent 'idéalisés', c'est-a-dire

rattachés de quelque maniere a la Valeur, il
demeurait fort réaliste.

 

1René Nelli, L'firotique des troubadours (Toulouse:
Privat, 1963), p. 63.

 

 

Such love, Nelli states, is "relativement chaste—-dans la
mesure ofi il est fidélité a une seule femme——mais non point
continent."2
Evidence of amour chevalresque in the canso or love
___________________
lyric dates back as far as the time of Guillaume IX
d'Aquitaine (1071-1127). In the poetry of "le premier
troubadour" one finds expressions of both idealized, courtly
love and of desire which is explicitly sexual. In the canso
"Companho, tant ai agutz d'avols conres" ("Companions, I
have had so much miserable fare"), the authoritative voice
of the poet—persona is heard proclaiming the notorious "leis
de con":
Pero dirai vos de con cals es sa leis,
Com sel hom que mal n'a fait e peitz n'a pres: .
Si c'autra res en merma qui.n pana, e cons e creis
[11. 10—12].3
In other cansos by Guillaume, women are portrayed as horses
. . . 1;
to be mounted or as creatures of insatiable sexual appetite,
and love is a dice game at which the poet—persona never

loses. He proclaims to be an old reliable master at this

particular game of chance, knowing "how to play, on a
___________________
2Ibid., p. 64.

3Translation: "But I shall tell you about cunt,
What its law is, / as one who has done badly in this matter
and suffered worse: / as other things diminish when you take
from them, cunt increases. F. Goldin, Lyrics of the
Troubadours and Trouveres (Garden City, N.J.: Anchor—
Doubleday, 1973), pp. 22-23.

I‘See cansos l and 4 in Goldin, pp. 20-23 and 26—33.

 

 

 

 

 

116

cushion, every winning roll."5 Although the lady challenges
her "opponent" in terms that are both enticing and unnerving,
he does not fail to rise to the occasion:

Mas elha.m dis un reprovier:
'Don, vostre dat son menudier,
et ieu revit vos a doblier.‘

Dis ieu: 'Qui.m dava Monpeslier,
non er laissatz.‘

E leviey un pauc son taulier

ab ams mos bratz.

E quant l'aic levat to taulier

empeis los datz,

el'h duy foron cairavallier

e.l terz plombatz.

E fi'ls ferir al toulier

E fon joguatz

[11. 50—62].6
Both in terms of subject matter—-the "leis de con" and the
sexual game of dice-—and in the portrayal of women as steeds

to be tamed, Guillaume's cansos present material that is

 

51bid., p. 35, 1. 25.
6Translation:

"But she gave me this reproach:

'My Lord, your dice are too small,

I challenge you to start again.’

I said, 'If they gave me Montpellier,
I shall not fail.’

And I raised her gaming table a little
with my two arms.

And when I had raised the gaming table
I threw the dice,

and two of them rolled,

and the third sank.

and I made them strike that table hard,
and it was played" (ibid., pp. 36-37).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

117

entirely foreign to the corresponding lyrics (chansons)
by Thibaut. It is only the latter's jeux-partis that
explicitly sexual matters are discussed and women are
seen not as unattainable but as creatures of flesh and
blood who are far from being untouchable.

In L'Erotique des troubadours Nelli accounts for

 

the contrasting points of View expressed in Guillaume's
cansos by explaining that the more chevalresque attitude
toward women and sexual matters corresponded to the actual
life style of the Southern haute société:

Au temps de Guillaume IX, la haute société ne
paraissait faire grand cas ni des vertus pré—
nuptiales . . . ni, surtout, des vertus
conjugales: les maris trompaient leurs femmes

et les femmes, leurs maris, soit au nom d'un
franc naturalisme barbare, soit, ce qui est

plus grave, au nom de certains principes
chevalresques a peine élaborés. . . . L'adultere-—
sans aucune trace d'idéalisation——était passé

dans les moeurs aristocratiques.7

This point of view is substantiated by Goldin's study
revealing that Guillaume's more bawdy cansos are composed

with their performance in front of his audience of fellow

 

Chevaliers in mind.8
What Nelli views as the more courtly side of
Guillaume IX—-the lyrics in which love is less physical

in nature and in which the poet willingly submits to the

 

7Nelli, p. 81.

8Goldin, pp. 5—19.

 

 

 

 

 

118

lady's sovereignty--is explained, he states, by the
influence of Arabic sources upon the Southern poets.

Only in the Spanish Arabic lyrics, Nelli asserts, is it
acceptable for men of high social status to submit them—
selves to a woman's dominance. Since no direct Arabic
influence upon Guillaume can be documented, Nelli suggests
that

Guillaume IX aurait donc pu ignorer la poésie
arabe, n'avoir jamais entendu chanter de poémes
d'amour: une seule expédition en Espagne, le
simple récit d'un voyageur, aurait suffi a le
renseigner sur la facon dont les princes arabes
entendaient l'amour, et a lui révéler que d'aussi
grands seigneurs que lui se gardaient bien de
traiter leurs maitresses comme des 'cavales',
mais qu'ils affectaient, au contraire, de les
servir comme s'ils eussent été leurs esclaves.9

 

 

However tenuous such an explanation might be, the fact
remains that both chevalresque and courtly tendencies may
be found in Guillaume's lyrics, but in subsequent develop-

ments the idea of love expressed in the canso reflects

 

courtly ideals to a greater and greater extent, and love
which is seen as a chevalric, sexual sport gradually becomes
the domain of those forms of poetry which are designed

purely for amusement, the joc partit or jeu—parti and

 

the débat.1°

 

9Nelli, pp. 101—102.

10The gradual elimination of chevalresque sentiments
from the Southern canso is discussed in Nelli and Lavaud,
Les Troubadours, t. II (Bruges: Desclée de Brouwer, 1966),
pp. 19-23. An examination of the Recueil general des jeux-
partis franpais reveals that, although courtly themes are

 

 

 

119

In Thibaut's chansons the authoritative voice of
the poet-persona is heard proclaiming not the "leis de con"
but the precepts of true love, "bone amor.“ Through the
use of generalized sententiae11 and statements that are
more limited, applicable only to the particular situation
of the poet-lover, Thibaut's work might be seen as one in

which, as in the Roman de la rose, "l'art d'Amors est toute

 

enclose." Besides expressing the rules for true lovers,
the authoritative statements made by Thibaut's poet—persona
often serve as an effort toward rationalizing irrational
suffering, or toward convincing the lady that she also
should act according to certain rules, namely that her
proper role is to reward the true lover for his suffering.
Still another function of the authoritative statement in

Thibaut's poetry is to delineate models of comportment by

 

discussed and courtly behavior is advocated by many
participants in the jeux, many deal with alternatives that
are specifically uncourtly or bawdy and, in fact, two of the
jeux are labeled by the editors as "jeux-partis orduriers"
(nos. CLXXIV and CLXXV). Such subject matter would never
be admissible in the Northern chanson of Thibaut's epoch.
See A. Langfors, A. Jeanroy, and L. Brandin, Recueil général
fies jeux—partis francais, tt. I and II (Paris: S.A.T.F.,
926).

 

 

 

11Sententiae are of two types: "It may mean, first,
an authoritative pronouncement on some general issue, in
the form of a duly acknowledged quotation from a recognized
auctor. . . . Alternatively, sententia may mean a 'pointed,
terse saying, embodying a general truth in a few words.'"
P. Boyde, Dante's Style in His Lyric Poetry (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1971), pp. 306-307. The
sententiae in Thibaut's lyrics are of the latter
Classification.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

120

which the true lover may be distinguished from the false,
a problem that plagued both troubadours and trouvéres since:

courtliness as a moral condition is invisible;

as a form of behavior it can be aped by anyone,
including those rivals from whom the poet wants

to be distinguished. The poet and his enemies

all talk and act alike; and these enemies are,

by birth, entitled to enter the lady's field of
Vision and pay homage to her. How can she,
judging from the distance of her perfection,
distinguish the one sincere Tweedeldum from all
those phony Tweedledees? It would be hard to

do in any circumstance, but it is nearly impos—
sible when all one has to judge by is the poet's
song. For the conventions of the troubadour lyric
were not such as to encourage what we would call a
personal style.

 

Thibaut, however, seems to have been the target of
a rather specific accusation that did not apply to poets of

more humble origins, namely that his lady is surrounded by

 

men who constantly tell her: "Dame, on vos veut guiler; /

 

Ja par amors n'amera riches hom" (XXIX, ll. l3—14).

 

Thibaut's response consists of a quick denunciation of such
"losengier felon" and the assertion that, on the contrary,
"he who has more must be more careful in love" ("qui plus

a, melz doit amer garder," l. 16). The problem still

 

remains, however; the lady is surrounded by many who, unlike
the poet-lover, entreat her "boldly, with false hearts."
The poet-persona, even though he is a "riches hom" of high

status, dares not act in such an audacious manner; such is

“h—

12Goldin, p. 109.

 

 

 

 

121

not the way for a fin ami. He has only his song to offer
and the hope that the lady will recognize that he sings
and loves with a true and loyal heart.

In the face of such a predicament it seems likely——
and is indeed true--that many of the precepts of love found
in Thibaut's lyrics have to do with distinguishing true
lovers from the "vilain" and the "truant" and emphasize
as well the superior order of nobility bestowed by Amors
that supersedes all earthly titles and wealth.

The contrast between feudal authority and the power
wielded by Amors is clearly defined in chanson XXVII:

Empereor ne roi n'ont mul pouoir
Envers Amors, ice vous vueil prouver:
Il puént bien doner de leur avoir,
Terres et fiez, et mesfez pardoner,
Mes Amors puet honme de mort garder
Et doner joie qui dure,
Plaine de bone aventure
[11. l—7].
Through a reference to the trouvere Raoul de Soissons in
the envoi of the poem, Wallenskold has established that
chanson XXVII was probably written some time after Thibaut
became heir to the throne of Navarre in 1234. If so, then
the I'proof" demonstrated by the poet is doubly effective;
he speaks as an initiate to the ways of love and as one who

himself carries the title of king and can discount it as

worthless.

 

*Tw—i

 

 

 

122

Amors' power over figurative death—-the emotional
death of being excluded from love's service and rejected
by the lady—~and Amors‘ ability to grant the greatest good

of all, everlasting joy, indicates that the true lover must

 

adopt a radically new system of values or way of viewing the
world if he is to prove himself worthy. He must distinguish
himself from the “vilaine gent" in many ways, but partic-
ularly by realizing that Amors is the supreme lord and
that only Amors:

. . . fet bien un honme melz valoir,

Que nus fors li ne porroit amender;

Le grant desir done du douz voloir

Tel que nus hons ne puet autre penser.

Seur toute riens doit on Amors amer
[11. 8—12].

 

Amors is, in a sense, the sovereign lord of a new nobility,
one in which he bestows, not lands and fiefs, but joy,
desire, and sweet inclination that is so delightful that

it displaces all other thought. The maxim "Seur toute riens

doit on Amors amer" makes use of the dual meaning of "amer"

 

to convey both the nature of this new order of nobility and
the reciprocal relationship it implies. The new hierarchy
is based on loving (gmgp) and upon service, for the word
"aflgg", in a feudal sense, indicates the reciprocal rela—
tionship of service and protection promised by vassal and
lord respectively. It is the latter application of EESE

that justifies the lover's subsequent accusation that his

 

 

123

lord, Amors, does not grant the recompense that he owes
his lawful vassal:
S'Amors vosist guerredoner autant
Conme ele puet, mult fust ses nons a droit,
Mes e1 ne veut, dont j'ai 1e cuer dolent,
Qu'ensi me tient sanz guerredon destroit;
Et je sui cil, quels que la fins en soit,
Qui a li servir s'otroie,
Empris l'ai, n'en recrerroie
[11. 15-21] .13
In other chansons the notion of a new nobility
established by Amors continues but the poet-persona adopts
a more humble stance, passively awaiting Amors' recompense
rather than insisting that he deserves it. His attitude
toward those who are insensitive to the worth of being
clothed in the invisible robes of Amors' magnificence is
reminiscent of the judgment passed upon the Pharisees who
adorned themselves with rich outer garments but within were
just rattling bones. Such as those will never gain entrance
to Amors' kingdom, for the rewards granted by the god of
love are gratuitous:
Tel chevauchent mult acemeement
Qui ne sevent leur grant honor atendre.
En Amors a maint guerredon a prendre
Dont el puet bien son dru faire joiant
[XIV, 11. 21—24].

The refrain of chanson XVIII underscores the notion

that earthly riches matter not to the true lover and, indeed,

 

13The attitude of the poet—persona in chanson XXVII
iS quite similar to that of chanson XXX, "Savez por quoi
Amors a non Amors?" including the questioning of the
appropriateness of Amors' name. See Chapter I, pp. 37—44.

 

 

 

124

are worthless. All the territory and revenues controlled
by the “riches hom," Thibaut de Champagne and king of

Navarre, have no real power. The goods bestowed by Amors,
delight and joy that surpass all, cannot be bought: "NEE

ne puet trop acheter / Les biens qu'Amors set doner." The

 

 

reiteration of such a maxim, coupled with the poet—persona's
personal statement that he can do nothing but await solace
from on high (1. 24) reinforce the notion that, however rich
he might be, the lover can do nothing to earn what he most
desires. Such powerlessness leads to frustration; humble
submission on the part of the poet-lover often gives way to
subdued rage or confusion. Generalized statements, pro-
claimed with an air of authority, are sometimes contradic—
tory. Amors can seem to be a manipulative devil who seduces
and betrays those who trust him (XXX, 11. 5—6), or a school-
master who makes his followers so happy that they think they
are flying (XIV, 11. 37—38). In Amors there is both fortune
and misfortune (XX, 1. 10), and he is "of exceeding power,
doing good and ill as it suits him" (XX, 11. 33-34). Not
only does Amors appear to be omnipotent, his actions are
unpredictable and cannot be grasped by one's reason: "Mpip

a Amors grant force et grant pouoir / Qui sanz reson fet

 

choisir a son gré (XXIII, 11. 22—23).

One could say, moreover, that not only is Amors

prone to sudden changes and free to choose at will, but

 

125

also is the lady inconstant and sometimes cruel or
suspicious, raising once again the problem of distinguishing
true lovers from false. As stated before, the marks of the
true lover are invisible since they are determined by one's
inner disposition. Thibaut's rules of love state that
access to the ranks of love's nobility has as a prerequisite
undergoing the sufferings of love:

Sens et honor ne puet nus maintenir,

S'il n'a en soi senti les maus d'amer.

N'a grant valor ne puet pour riens monter,

N'onques oncor nel vit nus avenir

[XIX, 11. 9-12].

But such verbal protestations are worthless since everyone
says that he loves "more than anyone ever has before"
(V, 11. 8—9).

Ce fet les amanz confus

Que trop mentent li truant;

Mes dame doit conoistre a leur faus diz

Que de toz biens s'est leur faus cuers partiz

[V, 11. 10-13].

The poet—lover can only hope that the lady's power
of discernment is equal to her surpassing beauty and worth
so that she might distinguish the true lover's "fin corage."

Ultimately the lover as poet must rely on his craft,
and upon the elusive inspiration that comes only from the
heart: "De bien amer ne puet nus enseignier / Fors que li
cuers, qui done 1i talent" (IV, 11. 37—38).

According to Pierre Guiraud, the relationship

between love and poetic composition is such that the two

 

 

 

126

terms are interchangeable; the heart may indeed be seen as
the source of inspiration for both true love and perfection
in poetry: ". . . dans une perspective plus large, la fin'

amors apparait bien comme un amour poétisé, un amour in-

 

séparable de la poésie et dans lequel amour et poésie se
confondent."1” Just as love and poetry are interrelated,
so are, again according to Guiraud, the sincerity of the
poet-lover's emotions and the quality of his chansons.

Guiraud maintains that "le poete amoureux demande a la

perfection de la forme de garantir la naiveté du contenu.
C'est d'ailleurs un des themes de la chanson d'affirmer,

a la fois, la perfection des sentiments amoureux et celle

de la technique poétique."15

 

Consciousness of his own role as poet and craftsman
is indeed evident in Thibaut's chansons as he rejects
stereotypes or inverts standard motifs to suit his own
purposes. The use of the springtime motif to open a
chanson or canso, a technique used sometimes to excess
in the courtly lyrics, is one which Thibaut holds in low
esteem. He rejects it, saying that such motifs are the
mark of uninspired poets who are capable of pleasing only

the vilaine gent:

 

1“Pierre Guiraud, "Les Structures étymologiques du
'Trobar,'" Poétique 8 (1971): 418.

15 Ibid. , p. 424.

 

 

127

Fueille ne flor ne vaut riens en chantant

Que por defaut, sanz plus, de rimoier

Et por fere solaz vilaine gent

Qui mauves moz font souvent aboier.

Je ne chant pas por aus esbanoier,

Mes por mon cuer fere un pou plus joiant

[IV, 11. 1-6].

The implications of such a declaration are twofold.
Not only does the poet use his craft to verify his worthi-
ness to enter the ranks of love's chosen ones—~for everyone
knows that the Vilains are excluded from love's garden-—he
also flatters the one to whom the song is destined, the
lady who, in this chanson, shows herself to be skeptical
of the lover's true intentions. The lover asks only to be
believed and hopes that his credibility will be restored
through the quality of his song which is, he insists, far
superior to the crude, mauvés moz of other singers in the
court.

The words of the discouraged poet-persona in
chanson XIV express the same hope that somehow the truth
of the assertions of the fins amis, the speaker, will be
distinguishable from the false supplications of deceitful
suitors. Thibaut's means of seeking to stand out from all
the rest is, once again, to play upon stereotypes and con-
ventions in all their richness and diverse connotations.
He begins by using the springtime motif as the basis for

a unique simile. The poet-persona expresses the hope that

with the coming of spring, the season of love, it will be

 

128

revealed that the words of false lovers are of no more
lasting nature than snow or ice; such words ought indeed
to melt away as the worth of true lovers shines forth in
the radiant season of new birth:

Tout autresi con fraint nois et yvers,

Que Vient estez, que 1i douz tens repaire,

Defist fraindre li faus prierres sers

Et fins amis amender son afaire;

Et je dot mult q'il ne me soit divers,

Se i1 touz est aus autres debonaire;

Mes tant me fi la ou biautez repaire,

Q'aymanz sui, se tout n'est vers moi fers

[XIV, 11. 1-8].

The poet-lover, authoritative in what ought to be
as concerns true lovers, also speaks assertively about his
own steadfastness, making use of the well—chosen metaphor
of the magnet. According to medieval lapidaries, the qual—

ities of the aypanz (magnet) and those of the diamond were

confused, signifying both the physical properties of attrac—

 

tion as well as the indestructible hardness of the diamond
which was believed to overcome all things.16

As the chanson continues, the qualities of stead-
fastness and endurance are emphasized by the poet-persona
through the use of sententiae communicating that the outcome
of suffering will be the consoling wisdom that comes to

those initiated to the ways of love. The poet—lover

 

16"Diamond and magnet," in F. McCullough, Medieval
Latin and French Bestiaries, University of North Carolina
Studies in the Romance Languages and Literatures, no. 33
(Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1960),

PP. 109-110.

 

129

advocates acceptance of suffering, for its recompense, joy,
negates all things (11. 17—18), and the renunciation of
one's own will; one must be selfless if one is to be above
reproach in matters of love (11. 19-20).

The question of renunciation of one's will is,
according to Thibaut, part of Amors' refinement process,
transforming one from vilain to fin ami:

Qui touz jorz fet son voloir

A poine ert ja fins amis.

Pour ce fet Amors doloir

Qu'ele veut guerredon rendre

Ceus qui bien sevent atendre

Et servir a son voloir

[XII, 11. 35-40].
The guidelines for being a fin ami and the manner in which
they are expressed are not without paradox. In the above

exhortation, the admonition that one must be selfless is

tempered by the indication that there is a rationale behind

 

Amors' apparently cruel treatment of the lover and, moreover,
there is the promise of reward at the end of one's suffering.
In the same chanson, however, the poet-persona states:

"N'aim pas a droit qui bee / Q'il en porroit avenir"

(11. 23—24). Neither recognition of this contradiction

nor resolution of the two modes of behavior is offered by
the poet-persona. At best, he might say that love is

"figlig" and he cannot be reproached for such statements,

as he does in chanson III:

 

 

 

130

. . . se je di folement

En ma chancon de ce que je voudroie,

Ne m'en doit on reprendre malemant.

Grant pechié fet qui fin ami reprent,

N'il n'aime pas qui pour diz se chastoie;

Et la coustume est tels de fin amant:

Plus pense a li, et il plus se desroie

[III, 11. 6—12].

The conviction that it is not only a mistake but
a "grant pechié" to criticize a true lover indicates the
vehemence with which Thibaut's poet—persona often confronts
those who challenge his integrity. In chanson V, after
deploring the fact that it has become a commonplace super—
lative for everyone to say that he loves more than anyone
ever has before, the poet—persona calls upon God and all
the saints on high to attest to the veracity of his own
assertion that no one could love more than he (11. 22—25).

Self—defense on the part of the poet—persona is
also related to the question of secrecy in love, one of
Andreas Capellanus' rules of love, and one which is adopted

by Thibaut's poet—persona as well: "Celer dit on que mult

vaut a ami" (XXVI, l. 33). But then, moving from the
generalized statement to the particular, the poet-persona
concealment of his emo-

states that in his own situation,

tional state only creates torment, for he sees others tease
and provoke their ladies openly and receive immediate

recompense .

 

 

 

 

131

The questionable merits of observing the rule of
secrecy become even more crucial when the poet—persona
explains——most likely in a self—congratulatory manner--that

he undergoes criticism for adhering to this principle:

 

“Aucuns i a qui me suelent blasmer / Quant je ne di a qui
je sui amis" (XIII, 11. 28-29). He then seeks to evade
total concealment by addressing his thoughts to the anony-
mous lady, again trusting in her perception to discern his
heart's true devotion to her.

Such an address to the lady might be considered,
in a sense, a transgression of the rule of concealment, and
the poet—lover consistently expresses feelings of fear and

dread upon doing so. If one is to establish a hierarchy of

 

values, however, being attentive to one‘s lady takes prece—
dence over some of the restrictive rules of courtly love:
Chancon, va t'en a celi que bien sé
Et si li di por poor ai chanté
Et en doutance; .
Mes droiz est que fins amis
Soit a sa dame ententis
[X, 11. 46—50].

The establishment of a hierarchy, then, can be seen
to be of major importance in many of Thibaut's sententiae._
The precepts of love endorse a hierarchy of nobility based
upon love's service rather than service to earthly lords;
the wealth bestowed by love takes precedence over worldly

riches. In love's service, one's true feelings sometimes

supersede more formalistic demands—-that of keeping silence,

 

132

for example-—and still another set of sententiae concern
the merits of folie over sens in matters of love.
The conflict between heart and mind and the ulti-

mate victory of the heart already discussed in previous

 

chapters is recognized and expressed succinctly by the
poet-persona in the form of a sententia. Ironically enough,
"folie" is presented as a reasonable state of being which

the true lover must come to accept: "S'est il resons, qui

 

a amer entent, / Q'il ne dout mort ne paine ne folie"

 

(XX, 11. 19-20).
Madness and danger are again associated with
love's service in chanson XXXI. The peril of loving

loyally lies in the isolation and vulnerability of the

 

lover who succumbs to the sweet, burning pains of love.

The condensed antithesis of the opening stanza--the "douces
dolors" and "1i mal plesant [qui] sont douz et cuisant“
indicate the irresolvable conflicts that will beset the
lover; the sententiae constitute both a general warning

and a reflection on the lover's personal situation:

Les douces dolors
Et li mal plesant
Qui viennent d'amors
Sont douz et cuisant,
Et qui fet fol hardement
A paines avra secors.
G'en fis un dont la poors
Me tient e1 cors que g'en sent.

Bien est grant folors
D'amer loiaument
[XXXI, 11. 1-10].

 

 

 

 

Although the lover labels love as "fplig" and suffers great
apprehension at being, in a sense, abandoned and beyond help
in his state of unrequited desire, he nevertheless perceives
madness as preferable to pppp (reason) and, in other

sententiae, discounts the rational faculties as worthless

 

in matters of love:
. . mes fous cuers me fet cuidier guerir;

8' i1 fust sages, i1 me feist morir

Pour ce fet bon de la folie avoir

Qu' en trop grant sens puet il bien meschoir

[XI, 11. l8— —21].

Qui plus aim de fin cuer loiaument,

Cil en set plus et mains 5 'en set aidier.

[IV, 11. 39— -40].

And so, although the knowledge and wisdom of the heart are
the only reliable guides in this strange, disorienting
"country of love's madness" (IX, 1. 40), the poet-persona
repeatedly makes use of logic and reason to formulate pre-
cepts, sometimes proceeding from generalized statements to
his particular situation, sometimes, as above (chanson XI),
moving from his personal experiences to the formulation of
the sententia.

The sententiae used by Thibaut's poet-persona are
not always directed only toward himself and other attendant
lovers. At times the poet—persona directs such statements
toward the lady and uses them to try to persuade her to
grant him mercy. The tone of the EEEEEEEEEE is such that

matters are seen in absolute terms. Dragonetti has pointed

out that:

134

. . . la fréquence des tournures sentencieuses
dans la chanson courtoise s'explique par la
matiere méme du genre. Celle-ci porte en effet
sur une rhétorique de l'amour dont l'apprentissage
n'est pas séparable d'une certaine connaissance
doctrinale. . . . Cet aspect didactique de l'amour
n'est pas séparable de la chanson courtoise.,
Parfois meme il [lelprouvere] s'attribue un role

de moraliste. . . .

The moralistic tone, already seen in connection with the
lover's self—defense stating that anyone who reproaches

a true lover commits a mortal sin, is adopted again in the

lover's address to the lady. He poses to her the question

whether or not it is a sin to put one's true lover to death,

and emphatically resolves the question himself, stating

"Oil, voir! bien 1e sachiezl" (XVII, l. 40). Manipulative

logic follows as he tells her that she will be far more

 

happy if she keeps him alive, the question of figurative
life or death refers, of course, to whether or not the

lady grants or withholds her love.
The posing of such choices in absolute terms—-life

or death-—stems from the very nature of the lover's declared

passion; it is total and all—consuming. The lover continu—
ously upholds the position that his whole existence depends
upon the lady, and such assertions may lead to gentle yet

desperate pleading, expressed as a personal entreaty within

the context of a general truth:

 

17Dragonetti, p. 46.

 

 

 

135

Por Dieu, ne m'ociez mie!
La our fins cuers s'umilie
Doit on trouver
Merci et aie
Por conforter.
Valara!
[VIII, 11. 19—24].

The poet—persona as authority in matters of love is also
capable of seeking to influence the lady more directly,

using a sententia that implies that she herself will never

attain joy if she does not love: "Amors, merci! Fetes

li a savoir; / Cuers qui n'ainme ne puet grant joie avoir"
(XI, 11. 27—28).

The precepts of love expressed in Thibaut's chansons
generally underscore those rules usually associated with
courtly love; fidelity and steadfastness, renunciation of

one's own will to that of the god of love, the preeminence

of the heart over reason. The tenets of love are, however,

not without paradox as, for example, the statements that

true lovers do not seek rewards coupled with the lover‘s
insistence that Amors or the lady as his sovereigns have
certain reciprocal responsibilities toward their servant.
Perhaps the greatest paradox lies in the discrepancy
between the lover's supposed reliance upon his heart to
the detriment of reason in matters of love and his use of
lOgic and reasonable argument to gain the lady's favors.
Many sententiae deal with the poet—persona's

relationship to other suitors, his rivals, the false

"TV—'1

 

 

 

 

lovers and losengiers, who, in their songs, seek to
The response

discredit him and win the heart of the lady.
of Thibaut's poet—persona is, at times, to lament over‘the
situation or, at other times, to denounce them and their

base, dishonest tactics. In the chansons, the poet—lover's i

best defense is his craftsmanship, his ability to write
chansons whose perfection and originality within the

stereotypes attest to the perfection of the composer's

love for the lady. In the jeux-partis and in a closely

related genre, the dépgp, Thibaut himself steps forward,
entering wholeheartedly into the game of love's casuistry,
a game that can be played with unabashed lustiness, unfet-
tered by the confines of abstract, idealized love, although
the values of a courtly—-as opposed to a more chevalresque

or physical-—relationship are often upheld by one of the

participants.
The rules of the jeu-parti and the débat pertain

more to form than to content:

dans son type normal, est une
piece lyrique de six couplets suivis de deux
envois: dans le premier couplet, l'un des deux
partenaires propose a l'autre une question
dilemmatique et, celui—Ci ayant fait son choix,
soutient lui—meme l'alternative restée disponible.
Dans les deux envois, chacun des deux partenaires
nomme un juge. I1 n'y a dans les textes aucune
trace d'un jugement que ceux-Ci auraient proposé.18

Le jeu—parti,

 

18Arthur Langfors, A. Jeanroy, and L. Brandin,
BEEEEiligénéral des jeux-partis francais (Paris: S.A.T.F.,
1925), pp. v-vi.

 

137

The partner proposing the jpp in the first stanza
establishes the meter and rhyme scheme that his opponent
must follow, so that the question of technical virtuosity
is of importance in this contest between poets. Partners
often choose to defend conflicting positions in separate
jeux—partis, although it should be kept in mind that the
poet who proposes the 133 has no choice but to defend
whatever alternative is left to him, therefore no great
personal commitment to a certain point of view should be
attributed to him in such cases.19

The dépgp differs from the jeu—parti in that the
poet of the first stanza usually poses a more open-ended
question for discussion and the opponents are not forced
into a heated defense of diametrically opposed points of

View. The subject matter of the débats, like that of the

jeux-partis, is not limited to purely courtly themes,
although such themes are not excluded. The participants

in the débats are usually poets, but two of Thibaut's five

débats are unique in that the discussion is a dialogue

 

19Wallensko'ld, for example, expresses astonishment
that Thibaut upholds conflicting points of view in differ-
ent situations, even though, in the jeu—parti in question,
Thibaut has no choice but to uphold beauty as opposed to
courtliness as a valid reason for loving a woman: "Le fait
que c'est a Thibaut qu'incombe la défense de la beauté nous
etonne un peu, puisque, dans le jeu-parti entre Jean Bretel
et Grievelier (668) . . . dont nous avons parlé ci—dessus
(p. lxxxiv), on fait allusion a Thibaut comme 1e défenseur
du 'grand sens,'" p. 127, n. III.

 

 

 

138

between Thibaut and a "real" lady and between Thibaut and

Amors.
As Langfors has noted, the subjects of the jeux-

partis are rather homogeneous; "ce sont presque toujours

des 'demandes d'amour.'"2° This element of the casuistry

of love has already been seen in the chanson d‘amour in
that the rules of love were sometimes questioned by the
despairing lover who felt that his service to Amors and

his adherence to the precepts of love only brought him

more suffering. At one point, the poet-persona calls out

for assistance in a way that strikingly resembles the format

of the jeu-partiz

Se je li di: "Dame, je vous aim tant,"
Ele dira je la vueil enguingnier.

Que ferai je? Conseilliez moi, amant!

Li quels vaut melz, ou parler ou lessier?
[IV, 11. 25-26, 31-32].

In a jeu-parti, the relative merits of both sides of the
question would each receive due consideration. Within the
context of the chanson, however, the poet—persona predictably
chooses the courtly solution, to wit, that he has not the
boldness to confront the lady, nor could he find the words
since his heart, source of amorous eloquence, is held
captive by the lady.

The same question, whether to conceal or to disclose

One's true feelings, is posed to the "bons rois Thiebaut“ by

 

2°L§ngfors, p. ix.

 

 

 

 

139

an anonymous cleric in jeu—parti XLIV. What proves
interesting to examine in this and in other jeux-partis

and débats is not only the specific question involved but
also the manner in which the poets deal with their oppo—
nents. In the chanson, the poet-persona resolves the
question of secrecy by sublimating his own particular
distress and formulating generalizations which emphasize
the power of the heart over the mind, thereby rationalizing
his inability to speak. By reiterating what he considers
universal truths concerning the proper behavior or state of
being--suffering and distress——for the ideal courtly lover,
»the poet-persona places his personal situation in a much
larger context which serves as self—justification and
self-consolation as well.

In the jeu-parti in question and in others as well,
the opponents often phrase their defense in sententia form,
using terse statements embodying a general truth. The
interplay between jouers, however, does not always remain
on the abstract level of generalizations, and one can find
many forms of argumentation that range from rigorous use of
logic to twisting the words of one's opponents and even the
use of some rather coarse personal insults. In the 192—
2333; between Thibaut and the lovesick cleric, many of the
above tactics are put to use, ultimately to Thibaut's credit

for it is he who outwits the anonymous clers in this jeu.

 

 

 

 

140

The very phrasing of the cleric‘s question elicits

a response expressed in sententia—like generalizations. The
cleric, who has loved a certain lady for a long time "with a
loyal heart“ and “in good faith" wishes to reveal his love
to her, thus relieving himself of the great burden of
secrecy. His question, his dilemma, is this:

Dites, sire, qu'en font li fin amant?

Suesfrent il tuit ausi si grant dolor,

Ou dient 1e mal q'il ont d'amor?

[XLIV, 11. 7—9].
Thibaut responds in terms similar to those of chanson IV in
which the poet—persona was confronted with the same extreme
pain and the same temptation. The poet-persona's response
was to set aside the solution that would alleviate his pain
and choose instead to remain steadfast and silent. Thibaut's
answer to the cleric is to keep silence and, by using dis—
guised words and covert signs, be patient and rely upon the
lady's perception to discern her servant's true feelings.
He reinforces his advice to the cleric through the use of

the sententia. "Que par servir est mainte amor donee"

 

 

(l. 14), and with the longer generalization:

Par moz couverz et par cointe senblant
Et par signes doit on moustre avant,
Qu'ele sache 1e mal et la dolor

Que fins amanz tret pour 1i nuit et jor
[11. 15—18].

Thibaut's conception of the fin amant-—at least in

this particular jeu——accords with the standards of the

 

 

 

 

 

 

141

courtly ideal but does not offer much consolation to the
cleric. Although he has no choice but to defend vigorously
the position that it is better to reveal one's feelings,
one might surmise, from his initial statements, that he
would personally prefer to do so. His reaction to Thibaut's
advice is, moreover, an outcry against the added suffering
he would incur by adhering to Thibaut's high standards.
Self—defense follows. The cleric, using Thibaut's own
words, tries to prove that those who are adept at using
mot couvert and signes are those who are given to false
love and deception. The cleric's own sententia, certainly
not drawn from the standard courtly repertoire, is that "a
true friend (lover) cannot hide his pain / Nor keep from
expressing that which his heart recalls / Through the
anguish it undergoes" (11. 25—27).

It is at this point that the argument no longer
remains one of only abstract generalizations and manipula—
tion of words but takes on elements of personal insults
which underscore the dichotomy between the cleric's behavior
and that to which he claims to aspire, the comportment of
the ideal, true lover. In the two stanzas that remain to
him (IV and VI) and in the £3393, Thibaut states that the
cleric's haste to declare his sentiments openly is quite
understandable since "clerics are not capable of abstinence"

(l. 29), and that the "crown" ("tonsure") suits him well

 

 

 

 

142

since the cleric is so anxious to pray to the lady. His
anxiousness to pray is not, however, inspired by devotion
that comes from the heart; it is, rather, says Thibaut,
the "suffering of the glands" that is the source of the
cleric's inspiration. Thibaut then offers new advice to
his Opponent, advice tinged with sarcasm:

Dites li tost, quant si vous angoissiez;

Ou tost l'aiez, ou vous tost la lessiez,

Car bien puet on a voz diz parcevoir

Qu'aillors voulez changier vostre voloir

[11. 51—54].

. . . 1i dites tout le vostre voloir;

El vous crerra, et ce sera bien voir

[11. 63-64].

The cleric's defense, also consisting of personal
attacks and self-styled adaptations of the rules of love
is, nonetheless, ineffective. The remarks that he directs
to Thibaut are that the roi-chansonnier could hardly have
felt the pains of love or he would never advocate the
position of secrecy. He states, moreover, that Thibaut
has a deceptive heart, suggesting that Thibaut prescribes
disguised words and signs because he is of the school of
the false lovers. The cleric's interpretation of Amors'
behavior, namely that "Amors makes the friend suffer so
that he, the friend, might confess the truth about his
suffering" (11. 44—45) is less than convincing, since the

audience would recognize that the cleric who has, in the

first stanza, declared his desire to conduct himself as a

 

 

 

143

fin amant is inventing a rule which is not representative
of those who are in Amors' service. The discrepancy between
the cleric's intentions and his statements is revealed by

Thibaut's generalizations that accord with the behavior

 

expected of a fin amant and Thibaut's accusations and
interpretations of the cleric's words.

The interplay of generalizations, arguments that
wield only abstract statements and those based upon personal
attacks and insults varies throughout the jeux-partis and
débats. One cannot say that Thibaut reveals himself to be
more prone to using personal invective, but he is certainly
not averse to resorting to such tactics even when his

opponent maintains a level of argumentation based upon

 

abstractions and generalizations.

Such is the case in jeu—parti XXXVIII between
Thibaut and a certain Baudoyn, probably the trouvere,
Baudouin d'Aire. Thibaut proposes the question: "if
a lady at long last bids her lover to come to her, should
he first kiss her mouth or her feet?" The question implies
a choice between courtly and more chevalresque love; the
ideal courtly lover would, in accordance with the humility
and self—effacement expected of him, choose to kiss the
lady's feet. Baudouin's choice is, however, to kiss the
lady's lips and, although this is the more audacious and

more explicitly sexual choice, he expresses it in such a

 

 

144

way as to render it more acceptable to a courtly audience.
Such an action, he states, would bring sublime joy to both
lover and lady, and is the fitting culmination of mutual
love that has withstood the test of time. He describes
this "joy“ not in terms of physical passion or lust, but,
rather, as a joy that brings sweetness to the heart. The
kiss itself brings "to completion the great desire with
which they love one another" (11. 13—14). At this point
in the 1gp no further favors are implied and Baudouin seems
to have expressed his somewhat audacious choice in
acceptable terms.

Thibaut's reaction, however, is one of self—
righteous indignation and personal insults directed toward
Baudouin:

-—Baudoyn, voir! je n'en mentiral ja:

Qui sa'dame veut tout avant baisier

En la bouche, de cuer onques n'ama;

Qu'ainsi baise on la fille a un bergier

[11. 19—22].
Thibaut's attack is twofold. The generalization of lines
20—21 discredits Baudouin's position that his choice is
inspired by a true, loyal heart. The declaration that
such is the way one would kiss the daughter of a shepherd
implies that such an action would reveal coarseness on the
part of both Baudouin and the lady; no courtly lady would
permit such a bold move. Thibaut then turns to the realm

of abstractions, culminating his argument with the

 

 

 

 

145

generalization that "great humility makes one worthy of
being loved more."

The ensuing interplay between the two trouvéres is
characterized by each playing upon the words of the other,
and by a growing emphasis upon a minor detail of the orig—
inal question, namely, "what should one do fippp ("£22
Eggpp")? The ordering of events, so to speak, becomes
of prime importance; Thibaut's position, as it turns out,
does not at all exclude kissing the lady's lips. He would,
in fact, after kissing her feet, kiss her mouth "to his
heart's desire / And her body, which no one considers to
be evil . . ." (11. 39-41). Stating his true preference,

Thibaut again insults Baudouin: “Mais vos estes bauz et

 

desmesurez / Si semble bien que pou d'amour savez"

 

(11. 44-45).

Baudouin, however, never resorts to personal
diatribe directed against Thibaut. He consistently replies
with generalized statements, ignoring even Thibaut's final
accusation that one who chooses to act as Baudouin is a mad

devil ("deables forsennez," l. 58). Instead of replying in

 

like manner, Baudouin states only that he who is under
Amors' influence cannot help but choose the lady's lips.
Does that mean that Thibaut's choice would violate Amors'
dictates? One cannot say, and according to the structure

of the jeu, Baudouin has the last word, giving his argument

 

 

 

 

146

an air of finality and victory. The conclusion of this
particular 133 is less open-ended than the standard 132—
REESE in which each participant calls upon a supposedly
sympathetic jpgg to pass judgment upon or to uphold the
position maintained by the trouvere. In this and in
several other jgpx in which Thibaut participates, the
opponents use the envois as an opportunity to express
their own convictions concerning the rightness of their
argument.

In terms of subject matter, it is interesting to
note that what may appear to be a discussion aimed at deter—
mining correct courtly behavior often takes on a much more
realistic tone as abstract questions or idealized ladies
are dealt with in specific terms. The timeless world of
the chanson where the lover waits indefinitely for the
unchanging, always superlatively beautiful lady is not
often the world of the jeu-parti or the gépgg. The poets
of the jgpg may speak in abstractions and generalizations,
but the awareness of specific situations is not long absent
and—~as in the above jeu-parti—-the lady that one discusses
is not the perfect, unapproachable creature of the chansons
but, rather, one who is approachable and human, thereby
subject to change and imperfection.

In jeu—parti XXXVII, for example, Thibaut and

Baudouin are discussing the relative merits of valors and

 

 

 

147

cortoisie or grant beauté as a valid basis for loving a
lady. As courtly tradition has it, the choice should
clearly be that the true lover loves his lady because of
her worth (valors) and courtliness, although one must admit
that great beauty is consistently the quality that over—
whelms the trouvere in the chansons d'amour. What appears
to be the opening of an intellectualized debate is not,
however, discussed in purely abstract terms. As one might
expect, Baudouin maintains a consistent argument, making
use of generalizations to support his position that the
true lover loves the lady because of her moral qualities
and her comportment:

. . . bon ensoignement

. . . cortoisie et granz honors

Plaisent plus a leal ami

Que beautez ne fresche colors

Ou i1 n'a pitié ne merci

[11. 11, 13—16].

It is Thibaut that turns the discussion from the
abstract to the "real" world, stating that "old ladies,
uglier than dogs, might have courtesy and great wisdom
but are worth nothing in bed" (ll. 33—36). Only beauty,
maintains Thibaut, can drive a man mad and have such power
over him that he perceives all that she does or says to him
as beautiful.

Baudouin is sorely pressed to maintain his position.
One cannot refute specific realities with general rules,

rules that are framed in terms of unchanging abstractions.

 

 

148

In fact, Baudouin feels called upon to defend himself
against the implication that he himself might be in love
with a lady who is of high virtue but who is, perhaps, old
and ugly:

Sire, je ne dirai oian

Qu'a Vielle soie, ne ja siens

Ne serai mais, si con j'entent

[11. 41—43].
His own denial negates his position; beauty and youth are
integral factors in one's attraction to a lady and, although
Baudouin continues to try to corroborate his argument, for
such are the rules of the jeu, he can do so only in terms

of the abstract world, that of the chanson rather than the

jeu-parti. His final statement is, in fact, based upon one

 

of the major thematic elements of chanson tradition, the
prison of love:

—-Sire, li miens cuer remuér

Ne se veut de cele qui l'a.

Valors l'a fait emprisoner

Qui courtoisie li dona

[11. 53—56].
To emphasize those values for which one should love,
Baudouin makes Merit and Courtesy the keepers of the
prison and he himself adopts the static pose, typical
of the poet—lover of the chanson, swearing never to stray
from his chosen lady.

Thibaut's conclusion, in contrast, emphasizes the

relativity and transient nature of the real world in which

the lover, himself subject to change, is confronted by

 

149

ladies of varying degrees of beauty, and where what a lady
offers is of relative, not absolute, value:

--Baudoyn, soul d'un resgarder

Ou d'un ris, quant le me fera,

La bele que je n'os nonmer

Vaut quanque la laide donra

[11. 49-52].

Ugliness and beauty are but two points on a con—
tinuum, qualities that are not fixed but that change over
time. The previous mention of ugly old women and Baudouin's
strong reaction against the implication that he might be in
love with an ugly old woman suggests the realization, on the

part of both participants, that the lady one loves will not

always remain beautiful and young. Since it cannot be

 

effectively denied that beauty is not the most important
factor determining one's love for a lady, the ideal of
courtly behavior——serving steadfastly without hope of
recompense-~is called into question and shown to be a
course of action that is not viable for the lover in
real life.

The notion of mutability and change and deterior—
ation over time is, then, an integral part of the world of
the jeux—partis and débats. Although such questions were
of major philosophical importance during the Middle Ages,
it is not with such serious intent that these matters are
dealt with in the dialogue poems. The idea that the world

is not as good as it used to be——the "ubi sunt“ topos-—

 

150

appears in only one chanson and in a dépgp between Phelipe
and Thibaut. In neither type of poem is it the subject of
serious philosophical speculation, but a comparison of the
two reveals that the modes of behavior advocated in the

chanson are functional only in the abstract, ideal world

 

of the refined, grand chant courtois. In chanson III the
poet-persona, like Phelipe and Thibaut in dépgp XLVI,
perceives that the world around him has changed and no
one readily “plays or sihgs or makes merry anymore"

(11. 1-3). He uses this observation as justification
for his own behavior, namely that he too has given up

singing for a while, and also as a reason to talk about

 

anything he chooses. He chooses, predictably enough, to
talk of the folly of love but, through a series of general-
izations and sententiae, reaffirms his fidelity to Amors and
the lady, and swears to remain faithful even unto death.
Such affirmations are typical of the chanson and, if one
takes the body of chansons as a whole, an integral part of
an idealized, abstract system. Such a system is static and,
although it allows for varying emotional responses from the
suffering lover, it does not allow for any real change on
the part of either the lover or the lady. Even the lover's
opening statement that "no one sings anymore" is expressed
in such general terms that it appears to be no more than a

pretext for composition of the chanson and for his

 

 

 

151

reaffirmation of his own steadfastness in the midst of what
he perceives to be a deteriorating world.

In the dépgp, however, the question "what has become
of love?" serves as the basis of a discussion in which,
through specific references to the real world of the
participants, the inviability of the courtly ideal becomes
more and more apparent. The partners in the dépgp maintain
their authoritative air, using sententiae to uphold the
ideals of love. A series of insightful observations of
the world around them, however, makes it clear that theirs
is a vain effort to reaffirm unchanging, abstract ideals in

an unstable world in which knights die in tourneys, women

 

become old, husbands become cruel, and still others busy
themselves with the acquisition of material goods instead
of being solely preoccupied with refining their love for a
perfect lady.

As stated earlier, the débats are less structured
than the jeux—partis, and the poets are not forced to defend
strictly limited points of View. Instead of having to main—
tain two separate, logically developed arguments, the par—
ticipants in a débat are freer to explore various answers
to the question being discussed and to compromise with
their opponents, and are less apt to attack one another

personally.

 

 

 

152

In the dépgp concerning the decline of love, Thibaut
and Philip do indeed consider various explanations for the
phenomenon. Philip states that it is probably not because
of old women and cruel husbands, as some have claimed, but
for lack of lovers (ameors) that “joy, merit, and tourna-
ments decline" (ll. ll-l3). Philip's choice of words,
"ameors," "jgig," and "valors" indicates that they are
discussing the courtly ideal of love, love whose rewards
are not physical but emotional—-“jpipT——and moral, an
increase in one's worth or merit. Philip equates lovers
and knights, and concludes that love is declining for lack
of Chevaliers.

The juxtaposition of love, valor, and joy with
mention of tournaments places the discussion of the abstract
ideal in the context of the “real" world, and it is Thibaut
who points out that the ladies put their knights in posi-
tions of overwhelming danger in the tourneys taking place
at court festivals. Thibaut accedes that love declines for
lack of knights, but that can be accounted for, not through
abstract reasoning, but through a specific situation:

Mes tout ce fet li dangiers
Que dames mainent tant fort.
Quant i1 sont jusqu‘a la mort,
Lors lor metent achesons.

Bons respons

N'i puent trouver,

S'en font maint desesperer
[11. 22-27].

 

 

153

The figurative death of the lover often spoken
of in the chansons has its counterpart in real life, the
dangers to which knights expose themselves in tourneys.
The tests to which their ladies put them are indeed, states
Thibaut, capable of driving any man to despair. One is ‘
reminded of the question sometimes raised by Thibaut's

poet-persona, "Cuidiez vous que soit pechiez / D'occire

 

son vrai amant?" (XVII, 11. 37-38); within the context of
the débat, such a sin would be a serious one indeed.
Philip responds by advocating ideal behavior

phrased in absolute terms: "——Sire, il s'en partent a

 

tort / Et s'en plaignent volontiers" (11. 28-29). He finds

 

that the activities of knights in the everyday world fall
far short of the courtly ideal; they are more concerned
with acquiring property through seizure and with building
houses. Such behavior is certainly not in accord with that
of the true lover, but then, interjects Thibaut, it is
understandable since the ladies are so cruel. Far from
entirely rejecting the high ideals of courtly love, Thibaut

contends that it is fitting that ladies be demanding since,

 

by making their lovers aspire more ardently, the lovers'
merit increases. Thibaut's position is, however, more
moderate than Philip's, who would have the lovers languish
indefinitely for their ladies who "make the world worthwhile"

(l. 58). In the world View of Thibaut, however, lovers are

 

 

 

154

subject to human frailities and their limitations preclude
such interminable service. Neither poet seems willing to
renounce high courtly ideals completely, but in a world
where material concerns prevail and, more importantly,
where knights must face real dangers to their lives, such
ideals can hardly be maintained as realistic in spite of
the authoritative statements proclaimed by both trouveres.
In fact, the dépgp (XLVIII) in which courtly ideals
are supported with the highest degree of conviction is one
which is set, not in the real world, but in a dream; the
dialogue is an exchange between Thibaut and Amors, the
goddess21 of love. Once again, as in the chansons, the
characters function in a static world that does not allow
for change and in which human frailties are not accepted.
Such weaknesses as inconsistency, levity, and the
desire to do one‘s own will are, moreover, considered to be
great crimes for which the poet-persona trembles in terror
before Amors, his sovereign and his judge. The lover, as
has been evident in so many chansons, emphasizes the lord—
vassal relationship, suggesting that since Amors has not
fulfilled her rightful obligations to her servant, he
wishes to formally quit her service and divorce himself

from her entourage ("gent," l. 15). Love, however, is an

 

21Amors, usually considered the god of love, a mas-
culine figure, is clearly considered feminine in this débat;
Thibaut addresses her as "Dame" in 1. ll.

 

 

 

155

overpowering, irresistible mistress and, moreover, one
whose rewards and largesse are infinite; the lover cannot
help but swear everlasting fidelity to her, humbly placing
his body and his life at her command.

The turmoil, peril, and fear experienced by the
poet-persona in the opening stanzas when faced with his
courtly shortcomings, his human weaknesses, suggest the
imbalance created when the "human" and "ideal" worlds are
juxtaposed. That which is imperfect and subject to change
must be refined through renunciation of self and steadfast
service; only through the swearing of undying fidelity, a
pledge that the real lover could not possibly fulfill, is
balance restored in this dépgp. In an attitude of unful-
filled hope and desire, the lover bows before the goddess
to renew his fealty, once again reaffirming the values and
attitudes appropriate to the world of the chanson, the dream
world which envisions perfection and supreme joy.

The joys envisioned in the jeux-partis, as has
already been suggested, are much less ethereal in nature
and the love questions do not center upon the reswearing
of interminable bonds of fealty. Love's recompense and
the casuistry of love are tied to very specific and often
quite problematical questions. Questions that have no
clearly defined, satisfactory answer are often described

by the o onents as "mauves gieu" and in such cases, the
PP ___________

 

 

 

156

adversaries are sometimes prone to using biting personal
insults as part of their defense in a particular point of

view. One such dilemma is the question posed by Raoul in

jeu—parti XLIII:

--Sire, loéz moi a choisir

D'un gieu! Li quels doit melz valoir:
Ou souvent s'amie sentir

Besier, acoler, sanz veoir,

Sanz parler et sanz plus avoir

A touz jorz mes de ses amors,

Ou parler et veoir touz jorz,

Sanz sentir et sanz atouchier?

[Dites] du quel la joie est plus granz
[11. 1-8, 10].

Thiabut's efforts to uphold the more courtly

 

position of gazing upon the lady and exchanging sweet words
of love are countered by Raoul's accusation that Thibaut's
choice is not based upon refined intentions but upon the
fact that Thibaut's fat, stuffed stomach would keep him
from enjoying the lady's embraces. Unlike Baudouin of
previous jgpx, Thibaut does not simply continue to reaffirm
courtly values, but chooses instead to adopt Raoul‘s method
of argumentation, stating that Raoul would be sorely dis-
tressed if, in the dark, the lady took hold of Raoul's
staff in the midst of an embrace.

It is difficult to determine whether Thibaut is
referring to a type of cane or crutch that Raoul used in
order to walk, or whether Thibaut is making a derogatory

comment about part of Raoul's anatomy. It seems obvious,

157

though, from Raoul's strong reaction that the remark is

taken quite personally. Raoul's response is to call Thibaut
a lowly cur who is not above biting the staff with which he,
Raoul, supports himself-—or "leans upon" depending upon one's
interpretation of “aloit apuiant" (l. 48). Given an oppor-
tunity, however, Raoul states that he could give up his
staff, therefore meaning his "crutch," more easily than
Thibaut could rid himself of his fat stomach.

Thibaut seeks to restore the discussion to a more
elevated level in the final stanza, stating that such an
exchange between the two poets would only amuse corrupt or
common people, as indeed it probably would. The inference
that the jgp appeals to the baser instincts appropriate to
the vilaine gent is another indication that the world of the
133 is distinct from that of the aristocratic chanson.
Within the context of the jeu-parti and the dépgp there is
room for both courtly and chevalresque points of View. The
performers, be they kings, counts, clerics, or trouveres of
common birth, uphold either standard at will; authoritative
statements, generalizations, and sententiae are used in
defense of each. The juxtaposition of the two distinctly
divergent points of view and the unpredictability of the
poets' choices and attitudes are the source of laughter and,
on a more reflective level, the distinct realization that
courtly ideals are not practicable in a world subject to

change and the mutations of time.

 

 

158

It should be pointed out that the major elements
of the jeux—partis and débats-—their entertainment value
as humor, their subject matter, and a major portion of the
argumentation in the form of sententiae-—are dependent upon
the preexisting tradition of the chanson d'amour. The sub-
ject matter of the chanson, its attitudes and ideals, are
never far from the minds of the medieval audience, the same
audience who hears the plump Thibaut speak of the torments
of love that he suffers from the “Dame,“ his partner in gépgp
XLVII. Thibaut's preoccupation with death, a variation on
the mort—par-amour motif of the chanson, is countered by the
lady's remark that he hardly seems to be pining away. The
subsequent reply by the roi—chansonnier is, itself, a con-
tradiction of the standard courtly stereotype that one who
is in love grows thin through loss of sleep and lack of
appetite. Thibaut states that a sense of well-being derived
from loving the lady has caused him to grow corpulent.t

Humor arises also from the juxtaposition, explicit

or implicit, of courtly and chevalresque sententiae. In

 

addition to examples already cited, one finds Thibaut
declaring that one who does not take his lady directly to
bed knows little about love (XLI, 11. 33-34), that, far
from being the ideal master, Amors is mad and no one should
follow his will (XLIX, 11. 28—29), and that, occasionally,
one must choose to do one's own will instead of fulfilling

the lady's wishes.

 

 

159

Such proclamations are counterbalanced by sententiae
defending courtly values drawn from the well-established,
well—integrated system of the chanson. One might assume
that the collision of the two systems-—justifiably termed
a collision since the values expressed therein are incom—
patible——was intentionally designed only to amuse. On a
deeper level, however, it is difficult to determine to what
an extent courtly clichés are mouthed with an intent to
ridicule them and, on the other hand, to what degree the
poets are expressing a truly felt nostalgia for the highly
structured, ideal world where, even though the lover was
kept waiting indefinitely, infinite joy was promised to
him at the end of his service. Which voice is stronger
in the jgpg, the one that wishes to sustain the deeply—
rooted, idealized vision or the one that declares that love
really is more physical than spiritual, that faithful ser~
vice is absurd, and that there really are no transcendent
values for which to strive? The difficulty in such a
determination is that both are argued for with the same
insistence and, moreover, with the same modes of argument,
excluding, of course, the more personal invective weighed
between adversaries in the jppé. One can only say with
certainty that the tone of authority is consistent from
poet-lover to joueur in the dialogue poems. Only its

application has changed, from one which pledges fidelity

 

160

to an ideal, to one which maintains at will and with equal
conviction that either type of relationship, courtois or

chevalresque, is valid.

 

 

E:::4———————————————————————_———————————_—————————————————————————————————:::'

 

CHAPTER V

DOUCE DAME, BIAUS SIRE DEUS, VERS

VOUS ME SUI GUENCHIZ

With the exception of the chansons de croisade

 

dating from the years 1238—1239, Thibaut's religious verse
is believed to have been composed near the end of his life.
As such, it may rightly be considered the culmination of his
poetic achievement, a continuation and refinement of themes,
imagery, stylistic devices and attitudes evident in the two
major bodies of poetry previously discussed, the chansons
d'amour and the dialogue poems. Certainly the tone of
authority used sporadically by the assertive yet humble
poet-lover of the chansons and consistently by the spirited
Thibaut in his debates with other poets, characterizes the
more polemical religious poems as well, the chansons de

croisade and the serventois religieux. The religious verse,

 

however, shares an even stronger bond with the chanson
tradition: both bodies of poetry reveal a common aspiratiou
toward a higher ideal—-one secular, the other religious-—and
common modes of expression, refined imagery and extended
metaphors. There is, moreover, a commonality of hierarchi-

cal relationships evident in both the chansons d'amour and

161

 

 

162

the religious verse. The feudal relationship implicit in
the chansons, the lover's subservience to his lord, Amors,
and to his ideal lady, is easily adapted to a religious
context, transposed, as it were, to a higher plane whereby
the poet-polemicist and humble servant of God pledges fealty
to his divine master, worshipping as well the ideal lady pgp
excellence, the sinless, chaste, virgin mother of God.

Other parallels between the chansons and religious
verse include the role and stance required of the poet-
persona. Just as the courtly lover often functions as

spokesperson for his master, Amors, the poet—persona of

 

the religious chansons acts as interpreter of God's will
on earth to those who might not share the speaker's priv—
ileged vision. Both courtly and religious verse call upon
those initiated to the higher realities of love and divine
service to transcend their imperfect human nature either by
actively combatting evil in a fallen world, or by refining
the imperfections within themselves by consistently striving
to pattern their behavior in terms of a higher ideal. Since
the ideal is unattainable in both cases, the poet—persona
can only hope to restate his intentions, and through such
reiterations, maintain the steadfast stance required of
the true servant of Amors or of a celestial lord.

Although the religious verse reveals itself to be

deeply rooted in the chanson tradition both stylistically

 

163

and thematically, there are, nevertheless, points of
divergence between the secular and religious realms. The
notion of paradise and the concept of Eplig, for example,
take on new significance when placed within a religious
context. The characteristics attributed to the courtly
and celestial sovereigns—-Amors and the lady versus Deus
and the Blessed Virgin-~also serve as a major point of
contrast between the secular and religious verse for,

although the respective hierarchical relationships are

 

structurally identical, the personages functioning within
the relationships are not. The poet—persona's choice,
whether to seek to win the love of an earthly lady who

is “ideal“ in her own way or whether to renounce Amors'
service entirely and strive for a still higher ideal is
clearly not without conflict, for his attitude toward the
courtly lady is one of reverence as toward a celestial
being. An examination of the lover's statements in the
chansons and in the religious verse reveals the intricacies
and difficulties of such a choice, and, at times when the
ambiguities are resolved, dogmatic rigidity——the "voice of

authority" at its strongest.

 

In the chansons d'amour, it is evident that the
lover perceives his relationship to the lady within a
religious context. Although the suffering of love seems

to be a heavy penance ("penitance," I, l. 6) imposed upon

 

164

him, the lover, nonetheless roundly condemns those who
would seek to reproach his courtly lord, Amors, in terms
applicable to the avowed enemies of Christendom.

Mort Mahon!

Qui d'amer qiert acheson

Por esmai ne pour dotance! ;

E! é! é! t

TI, 11. 25—28].
The lover's righteous indignation against such heretics is
reinforced by his perception of himself as a martyr for the
cause of love, one whose suffering is not a meaningless,
ritualistic penance but, rather, a means toward the
salvation of his soul:

S'ele me fet languir

Et vois jusqu'au morir,

M'ame en sera sauvee

[XV, 11. 31—33].

The idea of martyrdom—-the mort—par-amour theme——
and the salvation which such death assures, necessarily
connotes attainment of Paradise. The paradise that the
courtly lover envisions, however, is not the bodyless state
of eternal ecstasy in which one adores the Godhead in rapt

devotion but, on the contrary, a place where one enjoys the

eternal company of one's beloved. Like Aucassin, Thibaut's

 

poet-persona declares that he has no desire to enter a
heavenly paradise if his lady is not there also:

Et je me doi garder a escient

De corocier li, qu'estre ne voudroie
En Paradis, s'ele n'i estoit moie
[XXV, 11. 12-14].

 

 

165

Expanding upon this notion of Paradise which differs so
greatly from the concept of the afterlife proposed by the
theology of the Church, the lover suggests that God would,
in fact, be unfaithful to his promises if he did not allow
the lover and lady to enjoy each other's favors there
without restriction:
Deus nous pramet que, qui porra ataindre
A Paradis, q'il porra souhedier
Quanq'il voudra; ja puis ne l'estuet plaindre,
Que il l'avra tantost sanz delaier;
Et, se je puis Paradis gaaignier,
La avrai je ma dame sanz contraindre,
Ou Deus fera sa parole remaindre
[XXV, 11. 15—211.
The logic of the lover's argument, namely that
Deus as seigneur must keep his word, is directly related
to analogous situations in the chansons wherein the lover
presses Amors or the lady to fulfill their feudal obliga-
tions to him. Such urgings are often presented in terms
appropriate to commercial dealings, on as mundane a level
as one man owing money to another (chanson XXXII,ll.3l-34).
Indeed, the lover seems to view the earning of his place in
Paradise as a commercial venture:
Dame, se je servisse Deus autant
Et priasse de verai cuer entier
Con je faz vous, je sai certainement

Qu'en Paradis n'efist autel loier

 

In the value system appropriate to the courtly lover,
whereby the lady's favors and the joys of service to Amors

are of supreme worth, such a rented altar in Paradise is

 

 

166

nothing in comparison to the lady's smile. In the envoi
the poet-persona, addressing the lady under the senhal,
Aygle, emphasizes that his major role is that of the true
lover and states:

Aygle, j'ai touz jorz apris

A estre loiaus amis,

Si me vaudroit melz un ris

De vous qu'autre paradis

[XXI, 11. 51-54].

For the poet-persona of the religious verse, who
considers his major role to be that of servant of God, the
attainment of Paradise is a primary concern but, again,
one's admission to the kingdom is not without its trans-
actional aspects. In crusade song LIII the poet-persona
enjoins his fellow men to take up the cross and risk death
as equal compensation for the death suffered by Christ for
the sins of men. One's admission into Paradise is, more-
over, contingent upon one's participation in battle against
the foes of Christianity:

Seigneurs, sachiez: qui or ne s'en ira
En cele terre ou Deus fu morz et vis

Et qui la croiz d'Outremer ne prendra,
A paine mes ira en Paradis

[LIII, 11. 1-4].

The heavenly paradise that the poet—persona envi—
sions is not dealt with directly at great length in the
religious verse. ThrOugh the description of a Last Judgment

scene and in a plea expressed by the poet-persona in the

same crusade song it is clear that the delights of Paradise

 

167

consist of seeing God and the Blessed Virgin. The emphasis
placed upon the Visual aspect of heavenly bliss is not
surprising; "seeing God" is, after all, the theological
reward promised to the pure of heart. More importantly,
however, concentration upon sight as essential to celestial
joy may be seen as a direct extension of the notion of joy
derived from the courtly tradition. It is the experience
of seeing the lady that overwhelms the lover and represents
a turning point in his life. The subsequent process of
remembrance, involving contemplation of the lady with the
eyes of his heart also brings the lover sublime joy and
enables him to overcome, in a spiritual manner, physical
separation from his beloved. Likewise, the inability to
gaze upon the lady's beauty directly causes the lover great
distress, constituting, as it were, exclusion from paradise,
the courtly version of hell.

In the religious verse, hell is a dark malodorous
prison to be feared by those who refuse to abandon their
vices or those who will not forego the comforts of their
homes and families in order to embark upon the crusades.
The devil is seen to be a wily fisherman, catching many
men with his irresistible bait, covetousness, pride,
debauchery and wickedness. The latter three temptations,

personified, act as the devil's boatsmen, filling his huge

net with unwitting sinners:

 

 

 

 

 

 

168

Deables a geté pour nous sesir

Quatre aimecons aoschiez de torment:

Couvoitise lance premierement

Et puis Orgueil pour sa grant roiz enplier;

Luxure va 1e batel trainant,

Felonie les gouverne et les nage.

Ensi peschant s'en viennent au rivage . . .

[LX, 11. 28-34].
The personification of the sins as boatsmen is not unlike
that of the unicorn poem in which Amors appoints Beauty,
Fair Seeming and Danger as doorkeepers of his prison, and
against whose assaults the lover was virtually powerless.
In both cases the poet-persona is dependent upon help that
must come from outside himself; in the chanson he turns to
the lady, in the religious song, to God himself. The situ-
ation of the poet-persona in the religious poem (LX) is
analogous to that commonly experienced by the courtly lover
in still another way, namely that the wicked of this world,
like so many counterfeit coins, are indistinguishable from
the good:

Les preudonmes doit on tenir mult chiers

La ou il sont et servir et amer,

Mes a paines en puet on nus trouver,

Car il sont mes si com li faus deniers

Que on ne puet en trebuchet verser,

Ainz le gete on sanz coing et sanz balance;

Torz et pechiez en eus fine et conmence.

Faus tricheor, bien vous devroit menbrer

Que Deus prendra de vois cruel venjance!

[LX, 11. 37-45].

The certitude expressed by the poet-persona that God

will indeed wreak vengeance upon sinners constitutes a point

Of divergence from the courtly tradition. The lover,

 

 

 

169

relying upon the powers of discernment of his lady, cannot
be assured of the recognition he deserves as a true lover
since her powers are ultimately limited. The servant of
God, on the other hand, entrusts his case to an omniscient
lord, and can remain steadfast, secure in the knowledge
that his own inner disposition will be acknowledged and
rewarded.

It is in such comparisons that the dichotomy between
the feudal hierarchies of the chansons d'amour and the
chansons pieuses becomes clearest. The basic structure
is identical in both, the poet—persona, subservient to a
lord and a lady, hopes ultimately to gain his just reward
either in this world (chansons d'amour) or the next (SHEET
sons pieuses). The characteristics of the lord and lady
that the poet—persona serves, however, undergo certain
transformations in the transition from secular to religious
verse. The courtly lady as object of the lover's devotion,
one whom he worships as in a high sanctuary (VII, 11. 33-35)
is, nevertheless, cruel, refusing her favors to the lover,
and inconstant, not always bidding him the fair welcome
he received on previous encounters. Neither is Amors the
perfect lord. The lover, in fact, likens him to a devil
or a trickster who deceives those who are faithful to him

and, worse still, makes them suffer mortal torments.

 

 

 

 

170

Fidelity to such sovereigns is indeed madness and,
although the lover usually succumbs to the fplig of his
heart, in chanson IX he clearly renounces Love's service
and pledges fealty to a more merciful and more constant
lord, Deus, and the heavenly lady who is more deserving
of his adoration:

Tant ai amors servies longuement

Que dés or mes ne m'en doit nus reprendre

Se je m'en part. Ore a Dieu les conmant,

Qu'en ne doit pas touz jorz folie enprendre;

Et cil est fous qui ne s'en set desfendre

Ne n'i conoist son mal ne son torment

[IX, 11. 1-6].

The tOne of the lover's proclamation is both self-
righteous and magnanimous as befits the attitude of one
recently converted to the "way of truth." He harbors no
ill will toward his former master although Amors has mis-
treated him; he refuses to slander the god of love,
insisting instead that at least Amors had made him love
the best and most beautiful lady ever chosen (11. 17—20).
Nor is the lover antagonistic toward those who still serve
Amors; on the contrary, he wishes that all lovers might
receive the favors of which he himself can no longer
partake (11. 15-16).

In contrast to the god of love, God the father,
Deus, is a merciful, healing master to whom the poet-persona

will henceforth dedicate his songs and in whom he can take

refuge against any future assaults of love:

 

 

Mes bien m'a Deus par sa pitié gueri,

Quant delivré m'a de sa seignorie.

Quant eschapez 1i sui sanz perdre vie,

Ainz de mes euz si bone heure ne Vi,

Si cuit je fere oncor maint jeu parti

Et maint sonet et mainte raverdie

[IX, 11. 27-32].1

The poet-persona's determination never to love
again bears one exception, namely the one lady whom one
ought to adore and from whom "one cannot fail to obtain
recompense" (l. 43), the Virgin Mary. Like God the father,
she represents someone upon whom the poet-persona can rely,
and it is this certainty which most consistently differen-
tiates the courtly——or secular——and heavenly sovereigns.
In the chansons it was most often the poet-lover

who was forced to maintain a steadfast, reliable stance,
always at the mercy of his capricious master and mistress.
In the religious poems the figures of master and mistress
have been refined or purified in a sense, purged of the
negative aspects——cruelty, indifference, inconsistency-—
exhibited by Amors and the Dame. The static universe of
the chanson, based upon the premise that the lover must

always be kept in a state of uncertainty and unrequited

desire, gives way, in the religious verse, to a universe

 

1Although "sonet" may designate "chanson“ and
thereby include Thibaut's religious verse, the extant
jeux—partis in which Thibaut participates hardly reflect
the new-found religious fervor expressed in this chanson.

 

 

 

where attainment of reward is the certain outcome of one's
service, and in which there is little room for ambiguity.

The poet-persona of crusade song LIII certainly
operates within a frame of reference in which there are
no gray areas. Those who take up the cross will win
Paradise; those who do not will be excluded. Those who
depart are "sage, vaillant bacheler" (ll. 15 and 17);
those who remain behind are termed "morveus" and "cendreus"
(1. l8), blind to the higher reality that one's only true
friend is he who "without hesitation was placed on the true
cross for us" (11. 13—14). The poet—persona allows for no
qualifications or exceptions; anything other than immediate
enlistment in the ranks of the crusaders is "fole atendance"
(l. 12) punishable by eternal damnation.

In other crusade songs, however, the poet—persona's
commitments are less clear. Since departure for the Cru—
sades necessitates separation from his lady, the poet—
1over——who presumably has not at this point definitively
renounced Amors and his service--is in conflict with the
poet-persona whose r61e is to serve a higher master and
mistress. So great is the lover's devotion to his lady
that he experiences extreme inner turmoil, hating himself
for having to leave her, and exclaims that, in so many

words, he wishes the Holy Land had never existed:

 

 

 

IIIIZ: ——————':::'

Deus! pour quoi fu la terre d'Outremer

Qui tanz amanz avra fet desevrer,

Dont puis ne fu l'amors reconfortee,

Ne ne porent leur joie remenbrer!

[LIV, 11. 5-8].
That the poet-persona at this point in the chanson is more
devoted to love's service than to the "heavenly" cause is
indicated by both has great distress and his expression
of solidarity with "so many separated lovers" as opposed
to the ranks of the "vaillant bacheler" of the previous
crusade song.

In each of the first three stanzas the poet-persona
refers to the joy of loving that he will have to forego
through this seemingly forced departure, joy without which
he thinks he cannot survive, and for which he repents of
ever having taken up the crusader's cross. The poet—persona
is clearly one who acts under the dominance of his EEEE
gggpp and is so firmly grounded in his identity that he
can only reconcile leaving his lady by transposing his love
to a higher plane. In this particular conflict of mind and
heart, the poet-persona chooses the way of wisdom: "Iceste
amor est trop fine et puissanz, / Par la couvient venir les
plus sachanz" (11. 37-38).

Although he does so with regret that reveals the
depth of his attachment to the lady, the poet—persona
pledges fealty to his heavenly lord in appropriate feudal

terms. His new r61e as servant of God seems to be an

 

 

 

 

174

exclusive one that necessitates the definitive renunciation

of his earthly lady:

Tout lais pour vous [Deus] ce que je tan amoie.
[1. 26].

. . . pour vous [Deus] pert et mon cuer et ma joie
[1. 28].

Bien doit mes cuers estre liez et dolanz:

Dolanz de ce que je part de ma dame,

Et liez de ce que je sui desirranz

De servir Dieu, qui est mes cors et m'ame

[11. 33—36].
Just as the courtly lover often stressed the reciprocal
obligations that Amors owed to his servants, so does the
poet-persona, servant of God, insist upon due recompense
for his great sacrifice. The reward that he envisions is
"decked with flowers" (1. 27) and consists of being cleansed
from all "foul—smelling sins" (1. 40).

In contrast to the lover's relationship to Amors,
the poet-persona emphasizes that the heavenly lord is one
who never betrays his servants; the servant of God is
thereby assured of his salvation. To fill the void that
still brings him suffering, however, the servant of God
seeks to strike up a new relationship with an even more
perfect lady:

Dame des cieus, granz roine puissanz,
Au grant besoing me soiez secorranz!
De vous amer puisse avoir droite flame!

Quant dame pert, dame me soit aidanz!
[11. 41-44].

 

175

This final address to the Virgin Mary, suggesting that
she take on the role of his protectress and object of his
passion—-his "droite flame"-~reveals that, although the
poet-persona has verbally taken on a new and all—inclusive
identity as servant of God, his role as lover is still
operative within the religious context. Losing one lady,
he turns to another, an exchange which is made feasible
by the fact that both the heavenly and earthly ladies are
often described in identical terms, and the lover's attitude
toward his earthly or courtly lady is often one of worship:

Cette soumission a la dame est si totale,

se pénétrée d'humilité, qu'elle dégénere en une

veritable idolatrie. Isolés de leur contexte,

certains passages semblent d'authentiques

prieres, et on pourrait les croire addressés,

a la Vierge. Et pourtant i1 faut se rendre a

l'évidence: il s'agit bel et bien d'une femme

en chair et en 05. . . .2

Likewise in Thibaut's chansons d'amour, the lover

often perceives the lady as a gift from God, a reflection
of his divine perfection that illumines the whole world and

draws men to a state of higher worth. In rapt contemplation

the lover states:

Touz esbahiz m'obli en merveillant

Ou Deus trouva si estrange biauté;

Quant il la mist ca just entre la gent,
Mult nous en fist grant debounereté.
Trestout 1e mont en a enluminé,

Qu'en sa valor sont tuit li bien se grant
[XI, 11. 8—13].

 

2Moshé Lazar, Amour courtois et <fin amors> dans la
littérature du XIIe Siécle (Paris: Klincksieck, 1964),
p. 69.

 

 

176

. . . ele fet trestoz ceus melz valoir

Cui ele veut belement acoillir

[IX, 11. 24—25].
That the lady comes from above and was placed by God among
the common people suggests her divine qualities. The lover
is speechless in her presence as he would be when confronted
with a miraculous apparition.

The image of overpowering brightness used in still
another chanson d'amour is related not only to the lady's
beauty but to her moral qualities as well, "la granz biautez
et li bien que g'i Vi" (VI, 1. 12). This insistence upon
radiant light in association with the courtly lady is a
further indication of her divine nature. According to
E. de Bruyne:

Puisque Dieu seul est assez puissant pour
multiplier instantanément l'étre et influer

sur l'agir universel, il est la Lumiere a l'état
pur. . . . Dans la mesure oh les choses sont

lumineuses, elles ne sont pas seulement nobles,
elles sont divines.3

The courtly lady's beauty comes directly from God and
obscures any brilliance that a mere mortal might imagine,
namely the brightness of the finest summer's day:

N'est merveille se je m'en esbahi.

De li a Deus 1e siecle enluminé,

Car, qui avroit le plus biau jor d'esté,

Lez li seroit oscurs a midi
[VI, 11. 12-16].

 

3E. de Bruyne, L'Esthétique du Moyen Age (Louvain:
Institut Supérieur de Philosophie, 1947), p. 78.

t»

 

 

.. :._,7,.Ll . :gl; 1

—,——:~ ,.__P_..r.

177

That the lady's beauty is celestial in quality is reflected
also by the effect that it has upon the poet—lover. It
inspires him, in fact, to mold his behavior in terms of

the New Testament ethic of loving one's enemies. The
enemies to which the lover refers are none other than

the various aspects of the lady that inflicted upon him

the "wounds of love":

Ainz riens ne vi en 1i ne m'ait navré

D'un coup parfont a si tres douce lance:

Front, bouche et nés, euz, vis fres coloré,

Mains, chief et cors et bele contenance.

Ma douce dame, et quant les reverré,

Mes anemis, qui si fort m'ont grevé

Par leur puissance

C'ainz mes nus hons ne fu vis
Tant amast ses anemis?

[X, 11. 37—45].

The qualities of physical and moral perfection
as well as radiant illumination are all used by the poet-
persona in the religious verse to describe the Blessed
Virgin. She is, first of all, a courtly lady whose
beautiful body accords with her inner perfection. In
expounding upon the five letters of the name, Marie, the
poet-persona states:

l est touz droiz, genz et de bele taille,

Tels fu li cors, ou il n'ot qu'enseignier,

De la Dame, qui por nos se travaille
Biaus, droiz et genz sanz teche et sanz pechier

[VII, 11. 29-32].
She bears the courtly title of "amie" (LVII, l. 8), is
"plaine . . . de cortoisie" (LIX, 11. 33—34), and is often

referred to by the poet—persona as "douce dame," the most

 

 

 

 

178

common address for the lady found in the courtly lyrics.
Her beauty, like that of the courtly lady is "plus clers

qu'estoile jornaus" and "fet tout le monde esclarcir"

(LIX, ll. l6, 18).
Such descriptions and references to the Blessed

Virgin indeed lead one to agree with C. S. Lewis that:

. . . there is no evidence that the quasi—
religious tone of medieval love poetry has been
transferred from the worship of the Blessed
Virgin: it is just as likely——it is even more
likely——that the colouring of certain hymns to
the Virgin has been borrowed from the love

poetry.

If the persona of the Blessed Virgin is so firmly grounded
in the courtly tradition, what remains to be seen, then, is
to what extent and in what manner she surpasses the ideal of

courtly perfection. The figure of the Blessed Virgin is,

after all, representative of a realm which, according to
the poet—persona's own admission, is of far more worth than
the courtly universe. This admission on the part of the
poet—persona is determined, first of all, by the fact that,
unlike the courtly lady, the heavenly queen is reliable and
constant, full of mercy and pity toward those who honor her

and her son. She does, in fact, serve as an intermediary

between the sometimes vengeful, angry figure of God the

Father and his weak, sinful servants. The same "tres douz

 

“C. S. Lewis, The Allegory of Love (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1938), p. 8.

 

179

mopAplesant et savoré" that so charmed the lover in the
chansons d'amour are put to a higher use in the religious
verse, representing the Virgin's ability to assure the
eternal salvation of those who turn to her for aid:

Deus, qui tout set et tout puet et tout voit,
Nos avroit tost un entredeus geté,

Se la Dame, plaine de grant bonté,

Qui est lez 1i, pour nous ne 1i prioit.

Si tres douz mot plesant et savoré

Le grant coroz du grant Seigneur rapaie

[LX, 11. 10-15].

This intercession of the Virgin on behalf of sinners
awaiting judgment is in keeping with cathedral iconography

of thirteenth—century France. The Last Judgment scene

figures prominently in the sculpture and stained glass

windows of cathedrals throughout France, constantly remind-

ing the faithful that their actions would be weighed in the

balance of Good and Evil and that the condemned would suffer

horrible torments inflicted by the beats of Hell. In cer—
tain Last Judgment scenes, however (at the cathedrals of

Laon, Chartres, Notre Dame de Paris, Rampellon, Saint—

Sulpice at Favieres and Saint Seurin at Bordeaux), the

Virgin and St. John appear to the right and left of the

Judge. Such a representation is not in keeping with

evangelical accounts of the Last Judgment. E. Male

suggests that:

 

 

 

180

. . in introducing the Virgin and St. John into
the scene of the Judgment the artists were guided
by a wholly popular feeling of piety. The mother
and the well—loved disciple who stayed by the Cross
in the day of anguish, surely deserve to share the
triumph of the day of glory. But in this case why
represent them like suppliants kneeling with clasped
hands? One here touches an intimate chord in the
Christian soul. The theologians had thought that
in that great day no prayer could move the Judge,
but the humble crowd of faithful could not believe
this, and they continued to hope that the Virgin
and St. John would still be powerful intercessors
who would save many a soul by their prayers. The
artists were inspired by this belief, which they
shared, and in opposing grace to law they brought
a ray of hope into the midst of the solemn
circumstances of justice.

 

In addition to the intercessory power of the
Virgin's sweet, gracious words, her illuminating beauty
serves a function that surpasses that of the courtly lady.
Like the courtly lady's radiance, that of the Blessed
Virgin is overwhelming and inspires those who gaze upon
it to moral perfection. The Virgin's radiance, however,
is an instrument of salvation that extends beyond the ranks
of the faithful, bringing even the infidels to the path of
"true light":

Par vous est touz renluminez
Li mondes, nés li renoié;
Quant il seront ravoié .
Et crerront que Deus SOit nez,

Seront sauf, bien 1e savez
[LIX, 11. 35—39].

 

5Emile Male, The Gothic Image: Religious Art in
France of the Thirteenth Century (New York: Harper and
Row, 1958), p. 371.

 

 

 

181

It is significant that the truth revealed by the
Virgin's light is that "Deus soit nez" for it is in her “
réle as mother that the Virgin differs most strikingly
from the figure of the courtly lady. According to Male:

The Virgin of the twelfth and early thirteenth
centuries is a queen. She appears in the west
porch of Chartres and in the Porte Sainte-Anne
at Notre Dame at Paris seated on her throne in
regal state. She has a crown on her forehead,

a flowering sceptre in her hand and holds the

Child on her lap. She is seen again under this

aspect in the window at Chartres known as $3
belle verriére [Figure l] and in a fine window

at Laon [Figure 2].6

Male is correct to insist upon the majestic quality of these
portrayals of the Virgin, but an examination of the sculp—
ture and the windows to which he refers reveals that Mary

is presented in her dual role as queen and as mother; she

is never seen without the child Jesus on her lap (see
Figures 1 and 2 from Male, pp. 234-235).

In Thibaut's religious verse as well, Mary functions
both as celestial queen and as mother of God. It is the
latter role that receives the most emphasis, however, for
although the poet-persona's attitude toward the Virgin is
that of a humble servant toward a regal lady, he most often

refers to her and addresses her in terms of her capacity as

mother of the Saviour.

 

6Ibid., pp. 235—236.

 

 

182

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Figure 1. Window at Chartres.

 

 

 

Figure 2. The Virgin (window at Laon).

This is most evident in Chanson LVII in which the
poet-persona takes on the r61e of teacher and sets out to
explain the full significance of the five letters of the
Virgin's name.7 In four of the five stanzas of the chanson
the poet-persona refers in some manner to the r61e of Mary

as mother:

 

7Frappier (La Poésie lyrique . . . , p. 192) regards

this piece as "un commentaire laborieusement laudatif des
cinq lettres du nom de Maria." It is hardly as "laborieux"
as that of the author of the Speculum beatae Mariae w o
wrote a whole volume on the two words, Ave Maria. See

E. Male, pp. 233—234.

 

 

184
. . . par 1i vint [Deus] ca jus entre sa gent
[1. 5].
. . . la Dame qui en son biau cors gent

Porta le Roi qui merci atendon [11. 13-14].
C'est 1i cors Dieu . . .
Que la Dame dedenz son cors porta
[11. 21—22].
Vint Deus en 1i, quant ele l'enfanta [1. 30].
This reiterative amplification, in keeping with the didactic
tone of the chanson, teaches a single lesson-—that Mary, by
virtue of her motherhood, is instrumental in man's salvation,
and she is, moreover, gentle and pure of heart; one never
fails to win absolution through her intercession.
So steadfast is the Virgin's compassion toward
those who entreat her for mercy that the courtly lady is,
in comparison, no better than Eve, the female figure held
responsible for introducing sin and suffering into the
world. The contrast between celestial and courtly love
becomes clearest in a highly stylized chanson (LVIII) based
upon a series of variations upon a central tree image. The
opening lines of the chanson are conveniently ambiguous,
open to both religious and courtly interpretations:
Mauves arbre ne puet florir,
Ainz seche touz et va crollant;
Et hons qui n'aime, sanz mentir,
Ne porte fruit, ainz va morant
[LVII, 11. 1—4].
This particular use of the tree image has obvious religious

connotations based upon a New Testament parable illustrating

 

185

the power of faith and prayer. In this parable, Christ
curses the fig tree because it is barren; the tree subse—
quently withers and dies (Mark 11:12—14, 20—30). On the
other hand, the opening lines are not unlike Thibaut's
variations upon the springtime motif as exordium in the

chansons d'amour and, furthermore, the sententia of lines

 

3-4 might lead one to believe that this is indeed the
introduction to a courtly love song. The figurative death
mentioned in line 4 could be either secular or spiritual--
secular in that one who does not love is "dead" in a courtly
sense, and religious in that those who fail to produce
spiritual "fruit," like the barren fig tree, will be
condemned to death.

The remainder of the first stanza is equally open
to dual interpretations. The fruit of loving is "de cointe
senblant" (l. 5), the word "cointe" ("beguiling") drawn from
among the standard adjectives used to describe the courtly
lady. The idea that this fruit is so valuable that no one
could buy it, which may indicate its divine quality, never—
theless closely echoes the refrain of chanson XVIII, "Nus ne
Egg; trop acheter / Les biens qu'Amors set doner." Neither
can one definitively ascertain that the opening images are

being used strictly in a religious sense by the fact that

 

the fruit of Nature is capable of alleviating all pain, for

the courtly lover in the chansons d'amour certainly insists

 

.1.-we: ert:
rename

' j.._. p
.1311:

I

 

 

 

 

186

that, despite all his lamentations about the sufferings of
love, the joys and the "granz biens" that come from loving
far outweigh its pain. Nor does the authoritative tone of
the closing lines of the stanza indicate that the poet-
persona is speaking from a strictly religious point of
View; the poet-persona of the chansons d'amour can be
equally as didactic.

In the opening lines of the following stanza,
however, Thibaut makes it eminently clear that the superior
love he is describing is none other than the love of God.

Given Thibaut's skill as a craftsman, it is likely that

 

the initial sustained ambiguity and the subsequent sudden
clarification are deliberate. The technique of an effective
polemicist lies not only in his control of exempla and
explications, but also in taking one's audience by sur-
prise. The lords (Seigneur, l. 23) to whom this chanson
is directed, used to Thibaut's courtly lyrics, might pas-
sively assume that this is to be just another song in praise
of his anonymous lady; the imagery, the sententiae drawn
from the examples given and the didactic or authoritative
tone are not unlike those of the chansons d'amour.

Suddenly, however, Thibaut confronts them dog-
matically with a single, unequivocal statement; this life-
giving love, the fruit of Nature, is the love of God and "no

one can taste of this fruit unless God has prepared him"

187

(11. 12—13). The statement, a paraphrase of Christ's words,
"No one can come to me unless the Father draw him" (John
6:41), reveals that the poet—persona's r61e is not that of
one who will expound upon Amors' precepts, but, rather, that
of one who endorses a higher reality to the detriment of
courtly values. As the chanson continues, the tree and its
fruit are the pivotal images upon which all distinctions
between the two "universes" are based, an oblique reference
to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil serving as the
first point of differentiation between the celestial and
earthly ladies. The poet-persona first uses this biblical
tree reference as a teaching device, explaining to the
seigneurs the significance of Eve's action and the merits
of partaking of the ripe fruit of the love of God and his
mother: ‘

Par 1e fruit fu 1i premiers plors,

Quant Eve fist Adam pechier;

Mes qui du bon fruit veut mengier

Deus aint et sa Mere et son non,

Si queudra 1e fruit de seson

[LVIII, 11. 18—22].
In the third stanza the poet-persona's preoccupation changes
from an attempt to teach a lesson to others to a concern for

the state of his own soul. He concludes his lesson by say—

ing: "Du fruit mefir conté vous ai / Que cil quieut qui a

 

 

Deus se tient" (11. 25—26). What then follows is a confes—

sion that he himself has been corrupted by Eve's unripe

 

 

 

188

fruit, and he relates this directly to the experience of
loving his courtly lady:

De ce fruit [en qu'Adans pecha]

est plains mes vergiers:

Des que ma dame vi premiers,

Oi de s'amor plain cuer et cors,

Ne ja nul jor n'en istra fors

[11. 30-33].
Having established a direct correlation between the fall
of Adam and his own all-consuming, still continuing love
for the courtly lady, the poet~persona abandons the didactic
tone of earlier stanzas, devoting himself entirely to con-
tinuing his confession and begging pardon for his sins.

The image that the poet-persona then uses to

describe his actions-—he is like a child who plays around
a tree or hangs from its branches—~is effective on several
levels. It serves, first of all, as an excuse for the poet-
persona's folly. The limited intellectual awareness of the
child and his aimless, back—and—forth movement and inability
to climb the tree suggest that the poet-persona would like
his sin—-falling in love—-to be considered an unintentional
fault, something that happened to him because his rational
faculties were not stronger than his heart:

. . . ancois m'avient

Si comme a l'enfant, bien 1e sai,

Qui a la branche se soustient

Et entor l'arbre va et Vient

Ne ja amont ne montera;

Ensi mes cuers foloaint va

 

 

 

 

189

Secondly, the use of the child image represents an
attempt on the poet-persona's part to establish a new self-
identity in keeping with his role as repentant sinner. A
continuation of his original assertive role would be inap-
propriate since he admittedly has tasted much-—indeed more
than most men-—of the unripe fruit of earthly love. In
order to obtain forgiveness, he takes on the role of a child,
weak and in need of comfort. He needs to be perceived as a
child first of all because unless one becomes as a little
child, one cannot enter the heavenly kingdom (Luke 18:15-17)
and, more importantly, so that he, as child, can appeal to
the Mother of God for intercession-~Mary, once again, is
presented in her role as the one through whom God came into
the world. Just as the poet-persona of crusade song LIV
substituted the celestial lady for the courtly one as object
of his devotion, in this chanson the poet-persona turns from
the courtly lady, represented by Eve, dispenser of deadly
fruit, to a more perfect lady, the Virgin who gives him the
good fruit of salvation to eat.

The modulations of the tree/fruit imagery serve,
then, to differentiate the celestial and earthly ladies,
as well as distinguish the true servants of God—-those who
bear good fruit—-from the false. The tree image relates to
still another important distinction to be made between the

religious and secular verse, that is, the notion of "folie."

 

190

In the chansons d'amour it was clear that folly or madness
was associated with loving and that service to Amors was
not something that one would undertake rationally. The
references to love's madness were not, however, entirely
negative. The dominance of the heart's irratiOnal gplig
was, rather, of positive assistance to the lover, instruct—
ing him in the secret ways of love incomprehensible to one's
rational faculties. When seen from a religious point of
View, however, the notion of Eplig takes on entirely dif—
ferent connotations. In chanson LVIII, for example, the
courtly love that the poet—persona once perceived as a
precious, all—consuming passion is seen to be nothing more
than a child's pastime, aimless, without real purpose and
significance, a circular path that leads only to one's
downfall and exclusion from the celestial kingdom.

The association of love's folly with childlike
behavior minimizes the seriousness of such actions and
makes the poet—persona's request for the strength of
repentance a favor that is likely to be granted. In

chanson de croisade LIII, however, the contrast between

 

wisdom and madness is of more dire consequence. "Eplig"
consists of not participating in the crusades; "sagesse"
is to seek the honor of God and of this world--a curious
but perhaps not unlikely juxtaposition——by freeing the

Holy Land from the grasp of the infidels. To commit folly

 

 

 

 

191

by remaining behind is not, however, seen as an innocent,
unintentional act-—such as the "folie" of chanson LVIII-—
but, rather, as a sign that one is under the power of the
devil and has lost all "sense, boldness, and power." Such
indications of sinfulness will not be easily pardoned unless
one "comes to one's senses" and turns from sinful thoughts.
One's inability to do so carries with it the threat of
certain punishment meted out by a righteous God.

Likewise in chanson LX he who chooses to pledge
himself to any other love than the love of God is "exceed—
ingly mad“ since, as the poet—persona points out, the nature
of divine love, free of ruse and falseness, is far superior
to any other:

Mult par est fous qui autre amor essaie,

Qu'en cesti [l'amour de Dieu] n'a barat ne

fausseté,

Ne es autres ne merci ne manaie [11. 16-18].

Such madness is, once again, punishable by condemnation to
"enfer le puant“ (l. 23) described in graphic terms through
the personification of the vices as fishermen.

The image of God the Father in the religious verse,
however, is not always that of an angry, vengeful Old
Testament Yahweh whose wrath is tempered only by the sweet
presence of the Virgin Mary. As has already been indicated,
in contrast to Amors, God is at least a consistent if not
merciful seigneur in whom one finds assurance of eternal

reward for one's service, even though the threat of certain

 

 

192

punishment for one's sins is also a constant factor.
In the single extant serventois by Thibaut de Champagne,

"Deus est ensi comme li pellicanz" (LVI), Deus is portrayed

 

as a deity who combines two aspects of the Trinity, a God—
the—Father who protects and nurtures his offspring and a
God-the-Son figure who, through his passion, and death,
ransoms the innocent. The God that Thibaut describes in
the serventois is one who triumphs over the devil through
self-sacrifice, a humanized deity who does not inspire fear
and terror, but, rather, with whom one can sympathize and
join in triumph over the evil forces in the world. The poem
itself is ultimately a denunciation of evil and a call to
combative action against it; the sympathetic portrayal of
God the Father encourages the faithful to participate in the
struggle not through fear of eternal damnation but, rather,
as a positive response to the unjust suffering of a loving
God. Thibaut achieves this effect through the use of sty-
listic devices and imagery characteristic of the chansons
d'amour, using exempla and sententiae both to proclaim
general truths and to illustrate the gravity of particular
situations.

The first exemplum used by Thibaut is based upon
the pelican story, one that was commonly given allegorical

interpretations:

 

193

Deus est ensi conme li pellicanz

Qui fet SOn nif e1 plus haut arbre sus,
Et 1e mauvés oiseaus, qui Vient de jus,
Ses oisellons ocit: tant est puanz;

Li peres Vient destroiz et angoisseus,
Du bec s'ocit, de son sanc-dolereus
Vivre refet tantost ses oisellons.

Deus fist autel, quant fu sa passions:
De son douz sanc racheta ses enfanz. g!
Du Diable, qui trop estoit poissanz

[LVI, 11. 1-10].

According to standard bestiary tradition,

The pelican is said to have great love for its
young. However, when these begin to grow, they
strike their parents in the face. Their parents
in turn strike and kill them. After three days
their mother pierces her side and sheds her blood
over the dead children, thus receiving them.

Allegorically Christ is the pelican whom mankind
struck by serving what has been created rather than
the creator. Christ then ascended the Cross, where
from his pierced side flowed the blood and water of
man's salvation and eternal life.

. . . Also there is a variation which is found
in some Latin bestiaries and is carried through
their French translations. Instead of the mother's
resuscitating the young, it is the father who,
regretting his action which had caused their death,
pierces his side.

Thibaut‘s interpretation of the story follows the
French tradition quite closely with one major difference;
it is not the father pelican (Deus) who is responsible for
the death of the children, it is, rather, the wicked bird
(1e Deable) who slays the pelican's young. This variation
upon the original story is significant in that it estab-

lishes a clear dichotomy between good and evil. No longer

 

8McCullough, p. 156.

194

is God the Father seen as a once-vengeful father who later
repents of his wrath and takespity on his children; he is,
instead, all-loving and all—merciful. In Chiaroscuro—like
opposition to the benevolent pelican who dwells "in the
highest tree“ is the evil bird who comes "from below" ("gg
jpg"), the spatial contrast indicating the moral baseness
of the wicked bird and the infernal region where he nests.

The clear distinction between the representatives
of good and evil (2335 and le Deable) facilitates the making
of a rational moral decision since there are no qualifica—
tions modifying either position. God is a self-sacrificing
deity who sheds his own blood for his children; the Devil
is wicked, powerful, foul-smelling, and clearly guilty of
the murder of innocent victims. Thibaut, however, does not
appeal to his audience solely on an intellectual level; he
also emphasizes the suffering and compassion of the father
bird through the adjectives he chooses, "destroiz et
angoisseus," thereby arousing great sympathy for the plight
of the father bird on the part of the audience. The §§£f
ventois is, after all, a polemical and not a didactic form
of poetry. Thibaut's purpose is not, then, simply to teach
a lesson, but to rally support for a cause that he makes
more specific in the second stanza.

This movement from generalized sententiae or

presentation of exempla to their application to specific

 

 

195

situations was used repeatedly in the chansons d'amour

 

as the lover tried to apply the rules of love to his own
situation, often formulating statements that served as
self-consolation. The application of general statements
to the lover's own plight usually reinforced the closed,
subjective universe characteristic of the chansons d'amour
whereby the poet—persona's sole preoccupation was his love
for the lady and the endless suffering he endured for her.
In the serventois he uses the same technique to an entirely
different end, revealing concern not for his personal
distress but for the perilous state of the world in which

"orguels, baraz, felonie, traisons" and "bobanz" seem to be

 

gaining control. The poet—persona renders his concern for
the state of the world even more precise by referring--
although sometimes obliquely-—to specific contemporary
situations: the fact that clerics have abandoned writing
sermons in order to wage war and kill people (stanza II);
barons that the poet—persona perceives as innocent are being
accused of wrong—doing (stanza III); and, worst of all, the
Pope and his followers, the papelart are putting innocent
people to death (from stanzas III and V), a comment inter-
preted by Wallenskold as a reference to Pope Gregory IX

who was advocating a crusade to aid the Latin Empire of

 

 

196

Constantinople during the years 1236—1239, whereas Thibaut
was in favor of going to Palestine (1. 7).9

Other techniques common to the chanson tradition
that are used in the serventois are the use of repetition to
underscore the gravity of a particular situation (reminis—
cent of the lover's reiteration of specific words within a
single chanson or stanza to create certain effects as, for
example, the use of "$335" in chanson II, “ppEpE/changon“
in chanson XXXIII, and "dplpp/dolonte" in chanson VII),
literary allusion, and ratiocinatio consisting of posing a
rhetorical question that the poet-persona himself answers.

In the serventois these devices are used to intensify the

 

speaker's diatribe against the evil of the world, to illus—
trate the immediate potential dangers of such a situation
and, finally, to identify and condemn those who are at fault,
threatening them with the certain prospect of carrying the
burden of their sins into hell.

The use of repetition in the serventois consists
of the occurrence of the word "mgl/mgpp“ four times in
succession in the latter half of stanza III:

Le mal en font deseur aus revenir;
Et qui mal qiert, maus ne 1i doit faillir.
Qui petit mal porchace a son pouoir,

Li granz ne doit en son cuer remanoir
[11. 27- -30]-

 

9See Wallenskold, p. 197, Rem. III, 21.

 

 

 

 

197

The "mal" referred to by the poet—persona is not, of

course, the “maus d'amors" but that evil which threatens

to undermine the moral structure of the world as the speaker
perceives it. Like the poet-lover, the speaker resorts to
the use of sententiae to condemn those who have resorted to
wickedness and evil ways, making life difficult for those
who wish to remain faithful servants of God.

In contrast to the poet—lover whose laments rein—
force his isolation, the speaker of the serventois affirms
his solidarity with all suffering persons through the use
of a mystical body image and the words "nostre, noz“ and

"nos"; "Nostre chiés fet touz noz menbres deloir / Por

 

 

c‘est bien droiz qu‘a Dieu nos engplaingnons" (11. 21-22).

 

The literary allusion of the following stanza presages
the great upheaval that is to come because of the internal
conflict referred to by the poet—persona:

Bien devrions en l'estoire vooir

La bataille qui fu des deus dragons,

Si com l‘en treuve el livre des Bretons,

Dont i1 couvint les chastiaus just cheoir:

C‘est cist siecles, que il couvient verser,

Se Deus ne fet la bataille finir

[11. 31-36].
It is in this stanza that the poet-persona assumes a role
entirely foreign to that of the chansons, namely the role

of prophet afforded to him by the tale he has chosen to

explicate. In this particular tale10 only the seer Merlin

 

1°Found in Wace, Le Roman de Brut, éd. par Ivor
Arnold (Paris: S.A.T.F., 1938), 11. 7319—7582, and in

 

 

 

 

 

198

can divine the cause of the destruction of King Vortigern's
castle, namely the subterranean battles of two rival dragons
who make the foundations of the earth tremble. After this
episode Merlin makes a series of prophecies about the king—
dom of Britain, alluded to by Thibaut in line 38, “Egg

deviner qu‘estoit a avenir." Within the framework of

 

relating the Merlin story, Thibaut interpolates his own
judgment that it is this world that must be overthrown
(l. 35), and issues his own prophecy that the Antichrist
is close at hand.

In the following stanza Thibaut makes use of a

ratiocinatio (used in chansons d'amour XXIII, XXVI, XXVIII,

 

and XXXII) to call attention to the real cause of evil in
the world, the papelart. Even in the Middle Ages the term
"papelart" carried with it the connotation of "one who is

deceitful, hypocritical.“11

Through the papelart reference
Thibaut gives his final exegesis of the pelican story,
equating the papelart with venom in their beaks to the
hypothetical wicked bird of the bestiary legend, thereby
focusing his audience's attention upon one specific group

that must be overcome in order to restore balance and moral

order to the world.

 

Geoffrey of Monmouth, History of the Kings of Britain
(Baltimore, Md.: Penguin, 1966), pp. 166—185.

 

11Brunetto Latini, Li Livres dou Tresor, éd. par
Francis J. Carmody (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University
of California Press, 1948), p. 284. ‘

 

 

 

199

The $239; of the serventois closely resembles the
envois of many chansons d'amour in that the poet—persona
chooses those lines for an appropriate address to his
sovereign lord and lady, in this case Deus and the celestial
Dame. Promising to love and serve them, the poet—persona of
the serventois, like the lover in the chansons, asks for a
reciprocal favor, namely that God and the lady offer their
faithful ones protection against the poisonous evil birds.
Once again, the speaker of the serventois makes his request
not only on his own behalf—-as would the isolated, suffering
lover-—but on behalf of all the faithful who are in grave

danger. Alike rhetorically and stylistically, the chanson

 

and the serventois nevertheless express two completely dif-
ferent "universes": one, the interior world of the submis—
sive, suffering poet-lover; the other, that of a poet-
persona who is very much concerned with the outside world.
The same may be said of the relationship between the
chansons and the religious verse as a whole. Although the
two bodies of verse are closely related—-indeed sometimes
almost identical-—in terms of their vocabulary, imagery,
and stylistic devices, the two realms——secular and reli—
gious-—are nonetheless distinct, the transcendent world
of the religious verse being purified of any of the ambi—
guities that might be present in the courtly “world.“ Deus

is not like Amors; he is consistent and forthright, and

 

 

200

promises rewards that surpass even the fairest courtly
visions—-or so states the converted poet—lover. The

Virgin, too, unlike the courtly lady is steadfast in

her mercy and protection of those who entreat her, and

her beauty has powers that far surpass the courtly lady's.
The servant himself remains humble and yet, in the service
of the heavenly lord speaks with greater assertiveness,
clearly differentiating between good and evil, and, at
times, takes on the awesome role of prophet, exhibiting
powers of which the courtly lover is incapable. As a whole,
the courtly and religious verse clearly illustrate the range
of voices of which the roi—trouvére was capable, moving
freely from one realm to the next, communicating with
precision, grace, and delicacy, the equally wide range

of emotions experienced by love's servant and the servant

of God.

 

 

 

 

CONCLUSION

Thibaut's chansons encompass a wide range of
medieval lyric forms. The chansons d'amour, by far the
most numerous, are the basis of discussion for the first
three themes discussed, each characterized by paradox: the
sweet sickness of love, the sweet pain of remembrance, and
the prison of love.

The "douce dolors d'amors" is the theme that recurs

 

with most frequency in Thibaut's chansons d'amour. A close
examination of these chansons reveals that, although Thibaut
integrates into his love songs the courtly stereotype of the
attendant, suffering lover as outlined by Andreas Capillanus,
in many poems the poet—persona strains the limitations of
such narrowly defined behavior. He is often rebellious,
defiant, angry, willing to challenge the authority of his
sovereigns, Amors and the lady, and expresses vexation
concerning the paradoxical nature of his suffering and

the conflicting emotions that he experiences. This wide
range of response to love's suffering is conveyed through
the use of rhetorical devices and striking imagery which
enrich the poet—lover's ultimate resolution of his conflicts,
the reaffirmation of his tenderness and passionate fidelity

to the lady who surpasses all others in beauty and virtue.

201

 

 

 

 

 

 

202

Closely related to the "sweet sickness of love" is
the equally paradoxical “sweet pain of remembrance." The
poet-persona's preoccupation with recollection of the past
is a function of the courtly code whereby the lover's pas—
sion must remain secret and according to which the lady was
always distant and unattainable. In Thibaut‘s poetry the
phenomenon of remembrance is characterized by specific
patterns and thought processes. 0f pivotal importance is
the moment when the lover first beheld the lady; it is a
distinct turning point that changes his whole existence

and it is to that moment that the lover subsequently directs

 

his thoughts. At this point, remembrance brings both pain
and solace since, when the lover is in a state of conscious
recollection of the past, he is even more acutely aware of
the physical and temporal distance between himself and the
lady, even though the memory of her is, in itself, of exceed-
ing delight. Involuntary as well as voluntary remembrance
leads to meditation upon the lady's physical and moral qual—
ities which, in turn, leads to a timeless state of rapt
contemplation. Ultimately, however, the vision disinte-
grates and the lover is again confronted by the painful
reality of separation and is tormented by sadness, fear,
and despair.

Physical separation from the beloved serves as a

partial basis for the third major theme, the "sweet prison

 

 

 

of love." Love's prison is a manifestation of the lover's

 

psychological state as well; he is immobilized, unable
actively to change his situation and yet unable to quit .
love's service. The poet-lover's intense and unresolvable
conflict is communicated by personification of the lover's
heart and mind ("resons"), and by the phenomenon of dédouble—
ment whereby the lover and his heart each lead an independent
existence; the lover in his own sad state of exile from the

lady, the heart in joyful imprisonment with her.

 

The prison theme affords Thibaut rich and striking
metaphors, of which the most well known is the Roman de la
Egggflike description of Amors' prison in the unicorn poem
(chanson XXXIV). Only in Thibaut's religious verse does one
find comparable sustained metaphors and highly refined tech-
niques. Additional minor variations on the prison theme
reveal Thibaut's ability to strain the narrow limitations
of acceptable courtly behavior, stopping at nothing short
of threatening to abandon the courtly lady herself.

The boldness and independence of the lover in such
cases is directly related to still another theme, the voice
of authority as expressed in the chansons d'amour and the
dialogue poems. Through extensive use of generalized

sententiae the poet-persona establishes the rules of

 

comportment expected of true lovers, attempts to define

the means of distinguishing true lovers from false, and

 

 

 

 

204

suggests that there are also rules that the lady should
follow. This authoritative voice, so effective in upholding
the values of the courtly code, functions equally well in
the world of the jeux-partis and débats, where there are
fewer restrictions. The participants of the dialogue poems
are free to discuss explicit sexual matters and no longer
are forced to treat their ladies as distant, unchanging,
unattainable ideals. One finds then, in the amoebean verse,
the coming together of two worlds, the courtly and the
actual, changing world in which the trouvéres live and
create, and such a juxtaposition, although it is expressed
in verse which was written solely to amuse and to entertain,
raises deeper philosphical questions concerning the search
for ideals that are consistent with one's real life.

In Thibaut's religious verse the ideals, the feudal
hierarchy of lover as servant of a sovereign lord (Amors)
and lady, as well as the technical refinements of the
chansons d'amour are transferred, as it were, to a higher
plane whereby the humble poet-lover offers his talents and
pledges fealty to a divine master and celestial mistress.

In such a transposition the courtly concepts of "folie"
and "paradis“ are reevaluated and found to be of little
worth to one who seeks a heavenly reward. Likewise, in
comparison to Deus and the Vierge, Amors and the Dame seem

cruel and inconstant, undeserving of the devotion of one

 

20's

who entrusts himself to an omnipotent, just, and merciful
Lord and a lady of unsurpassed beauty and compassion. The
poet-persona continues to play the role of steadfast servant
and spokesperson delineating rules for the faithful to
follow and takes on the more awesome r61e of prophet,

as well as that of an innocent child in order to appeal

to Mary in her r61e as mother, and to render himself all
the more worthy of entrance into the heavenly kingdom.
Again, Thibaut reveals his technical virtuosity and
versatility, the ability to speak with many voices,
effectively communicating the wide range of emotions

experienced by love's servant and the servant of God.

 

APPENDIX

II

IV

 

10

15

20

25

30

35

APPENDIX

I For conforter ma pesance
_________________________

In order to east my pain
I am writing a song.
It will be good if it helps me
For Jason.
He who won the (golden) fleece
Never had such a severe penance.
é!é!é

.—

I debate with myself
For reason
Tells me that I act childishly
When I remain in prison
Where ransom is of no value;
Therefore I have need of solace
E! 6.! é:

My lady is so well known
And so renowned
That I have expressed my fidelity
To her in song.
More than the gift of another's love,
I prefer’a glance, when she darts it at me.
E! é! é!

I love her company
And her sweet name
More than the kingdom of France.
Death to Mohammed
Who seeks reasons to reproach love
Because of fear or dread.
F3: é! é!

Memory of her as my companion
Is deep within me;
Every day I contemplate her likeness
And her image
Grant me recompense, Amors!
Do not suffer my misfortune!
f! (2! é!

Lady, I would like you to be

Cognizant of it.
E’! é! é!

206

 

 

 

II

III

VI

 

10

15

20

25

30

35

207

II De touz maus n'est nus plesanz

Of all sicknesses, none is pleasant

Except that of loving,

But that one is sweet and painful

And delectable to the thought,

And can give such great comfort,

And there is so much good that comes from it
That no one ought to stop loving.

As an obedient, true lover

I wish to submit to my lady.

I cannot be sorrowful

When I hear (anyone) speak of her;

Remembrance pleases me so greatly

That to remember her beauty

Is a safeguard against all sicknesses (evils).

Amors, since you put me, bound,

Into your prison

I would rather be put to death

Than have ransom.

Such a sickness is quite without reason
For it pleases me when it makes me worse
And I never seek any cure for it.

Insofar as it concerns you
Lady, it seems reasonable to me;
Love for you overwhelmed me,

As well as your gracious manner
And the beauty which glows

In such abundance in your face
And from your feet to your head.

If you would be, Lady,

a bit more gracious to me

I could not ask God

For a greater favor,

For I would have so much joy

That all men, indeed,

Would be sorrowful in comparison to me.

Lady, from whom I await all riches,
Know that when I see you,
No one has such joyful torment.

II

III

IV

VI

10

15

20

25

30

35

4O

 

208

III Je ne vois més nului qui gieut ne chant

 

I no longer see anyone who plays or sings

Nor willingly makes merry or is joyful,

And for this reason I have not sung in a long time

As I once was wont to do,

Nor has anyone asked me to do so;

And for this reason, if, in my song .
I speak foolishly of whatever I please, 3
No one ought to reproach me cruelly for it. \

He who reproaches a true lover commits a mortal sin,

And he who chastises himself for his words does not love;
Such is the custom of a true lover;

The more he thinks of her, the more he is troubled.
Whoever places his whole heart and desire in love

Ought to undergo good and bad giving thanks.

He who does not act thus commits folly

And will never have great joy during his life.

God help me, I have never seen anyone

Who loved very well and was able to retreat from it;
He who wishes to conduct himself otherwise

Is mad and wicked and full of vexation.

Ah! sweet lady, if you had been there where I was,
If your tender heart, which seems so well—disposed
Knew anything about love, it would have had pity

If it had ever received it from another.

When Amors pursues me more, I flee him less
This sickness is quite contrary to all others,
For God has never created a person who loves
Who cannot turn his sufferings into joy.

I have never faltered in my love for you

Since that hour, lady, when I became yours,
For my fine heart made you so pleasing to me,
In spite of myself and what I thought about it.

I am so preoccupied that I do not know what I seek
Except mercy, lady, if you find it suitable;

For you know well that a good song will never be sung
As a reproach to a proud heart.

One ought to be exalted for one's pity

And pride should not be harbored there

Where love has such renown;

One ought to favor and aid one's own.

Song, tell her that there is no profit in all this;
For, even if she had sworn my death a hundred times,
I would still have to remain in her power.

II

III

IV

VI

10

15

20

25

3O

35

40

209

IV Fueille ne flor ne vaut riens en chantant

Leaf and flower are worth nothing in singing
Except by default, nothing more, in rhyming

And giving solace to peasants

Who often bark out crude words.

I sing, not to raise their spirits,

But to make my own heart a little more joyful,
For a sick person is often cured

By a comforting word when he is not able to eat.

Whoever sees his enemy running toward him

In order to shoot large metal arrows at him

Indeed ought to turn and flee

And save himself, if he is able, from the archer;

But when Amors comes to shoot at me more

And I flee him less; it is an exceedingly great marvel,
And thus I receive the blow in the midst of a crowd
Just as if I were alone in an orchard.

I know truly that my lady loves a hundred

And still more: it is in order to vex me.

But I love her more than any living thing,

God grant that I might embrace her graceful body!
That is what would be most precious to me,

And, if I knowingly perjure myself

I ought to be brought forth

And hung higher than a bell tower.

If I say to her: "Lady, I love you so much,"

She will say that I am trying to deceive her,

I have neither the wit nor the boldness

To dare dispute it with her.

I would need a heart which ought to help me,

For the word of anyone else is useless in this matter.
What will I do? Counsel me, lovers!

Which is better, to speak or remain silent?

I dare not say that it is folly to love

For in this matter the most foolish is most to be esteemed;
One often must depend on chance

More than on wit or reason in pleading one's case.

No one can give instruction on how to love well

Except the heart, which gives the desire.

He who loves loyally, with a true heart,

Knows more about it and can help himself less.

Lady, have pity! Please consider how much
I love you; I ask nothing more.
See the amends for which I beg you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

F“—

210

V Li rosignous chante tant

. .lrriiiJ

I The nightingale sings so much
That he falls from the tree, dead;
No one has ever seen such a beautiful death,
So sweet and gracious.
5 Likewise I die singing in a loud voice,
But I cannot be heard by my lady.
Nor does she deign to have pity on me.

II Everyone says that he loves
More than anyone ever has before,
10 This confounds lovers
For the false lie only too often.
But a lady ought to realize, from their false words
That their false hearts have forsaken all good qualities
And it is not right to take pity on them.

III 15 Never has there been haughtiness as great
As that of Julius (Caesar) toward Pompey
Yet my lady has even more for me
Who die desiring.
My thought is ever before her
20 And day and night begs mercy a thousand times,
Kissing her feet, that she might remember me.

 

IV I will call upon God as a witness
And all the saints from on high,
That, if anyone can love more than I,
25 I will not ask reparation
Nor evermore to be heard by you;
Thus you may take away from me your kind words
And chase me like a mountain animal.

V I do not think that the serpent
30 Or any other animal strikes
As fiercely as does Amors in triumph;
His blows are exceedingly heavy.
He strikes more steadily than Turks or Arabs,
And not even Solomon or David
35 Or a madman from Germany could withstand the assault.

VI It is no wonder that I am dismayed,
For comfort is so difficult to obtain
That I fear greatly that I will lack all goods.

VII Lady, I cannot be parted from you,
40 Thus I declare to you the pleasures and (tokens of) mercy

Which I still wait for you to grant me.

VIII Amors will have struck me many harsh blows.
Song, go quickly and not reluctantly
And greet our people of Champagne!

II

IV

VI

10

15

20

25

30

35

4O

 

211

VI De bone amor Vient seance et bonté

From true love comes knowledge and goodness,

And love comes, likewise, from these two.

All three are one, if one reflects upon it;
Never will they be separated.

They have chosen together, through deliberation,
The couriers who have gone ahead:

They have beaten such a well—worn path

From my heart that they will never stray from it.

At night the couriers are in the light

And during the day they are obscured from people's View:
The sweet glance, gracious and charming,

The great beauty and the goodness that I see in her;

It is no wonder that I am-awestruck by these things;
Through her presence God has illumined the world,

For, whoever would have the fairest summer day

At high noon, would have darkness next to her.

In love there is fear and boldness:

The two are three and from the third are the two,

And great value is attached to them

Where all good qualities remain and take refuge.

For this reason, love (amors) is the hostel of everyone
Where no one is needy, according to his merit.

(Yet) in your hostel, lady of great worth,

I am so needy that I know not where I am.

I have no recourse but to place myself at her command
For I have forsaken all (earthly) goods for her:
Either great joy or my death awaits me,

I know not which, since the moment I was before her.
At that moment her eyes did not cause me any pain
For they struck my heart so sweetly

With amorous desire;

The blow which I received from them is still there.

The wound was severe and becomes still more inflamed;
There is no doctor who could cure me

Except she who had the arrow shot at me.

If only she would deign to touch it with her hand
She could withdraw the mortal blow

By its whole shaft; this I desire greatly.

But the iron point cannot be removed

For it broke inside upon dealing the blow.

Dame, there is no other messenger
By whom I dare to send you my innermost desire,
Except my song, if you wish to sing it.

 

I!

 

212

VII Une dolor enossee

I A pain has entered
Deep within my heart
And I cannot extract it
For anything ever born;
5 It is the pain of love,
For which I have no comfort or aid,
Thus I think that that which I love hates me.

II One must rid oneself _
Of desperate sorrow, V
10 I do not want it to enter me
At any cost.
I prefer to suffer
My pains and great fears
Than to suffer unrequited desire.

III 15 Lady, I dared not complain to you
In any manner,
For your exceedingly great beauty
Has extinguished reason in my heart,
So that I have not the pOWer
20 To tell you my wishes;
Thus it may last forever.

IV I §g§_well that I cannot reach her
Through any message,
Nor, indeed, do I seek to speak out,
25 Nor direct my complaints elsewhere;
Thus I shall wait, indeed,
For her mercy which is so difficult to obtain,
If pity does not break her (resistance).

1

V I dare not enter her chamber,
30 So greatly do I fear her anger.
I must be content with sighs and floods of tears
For I can do nothing else;
And so I continue to adore
The place, and beg mercy
35 As in a high sanctuary.

VI Lady, whom I love so much,
In your delay, grant me some token
Which will entice me to stay.

VII Bernard, he who feels my sufferings

40 And does not seek mercy
Has too much vexation and difficulty.

\—

1The translation fails to render here the stylistic device of
phonetic repetition: l. 22, voi; l. 24, voir; l. 26, voir; and l. 27,

voloir.

 

 

 

—_f—¥w-

213

VIII Por mau tens ne por gelee

I Neither bad weather nor frost

Nor cold mornings
Nor any other living thing
Will ever separate my thoughts

5 From the love which I have,

For I have loved her only too much
With a true heart.
Valara!

II Beautiful and blonde and fair,
You please me when it suits you.
10 Ah, God! if only the love which I have begged you for
Were given to me!
If it is refused to me
When I plead for it,
I shall die.
15 Valara!

 

III Lady, in your command
I have placed my body and my life.
In God's name, do not put me to death!
There where the true heart humbles itself
20 One must find
Pity and succour
As solace.
Valara!

IV Lady, be courteous!
May it please you that during my life
25 I might pronounce these words:
My beautiful, very sweet beloved,
I dare to name you,
For I shall never have any desire
To love another.
30 Valara!

V Never could I complain,
For my sorrow would be so much greater;

Nor could I feign loving

Nor extinguish my pain

35 If I could not say
That I wish to remain

Entirely at her mercy.
Valara!

VI It would be too difficult to suppress
Songs about her;
The love with which I think of her
Would have to be broken.
Valera!

 

 

II

III

IV

VI

10

15

20

25

3O

35

4O

 

214

IX Tant ai amors servies longuement
____________________________________

I have served loves for so long

That, henceforth, no one must reproach me

If I desist. I commend them now to God

For one must not undertake folly forever;

And he who cannot keep himself from it

Nor recognize its pain and torment is foolish.
One would regard me henceforth as childish,
For each turn of weather must await its season.

I am not like those other people

Who have loved and then wish to dispute it

And speak slander through vile ill-will.

One must not sell his services to his lord,

Nor slander nor commit crimes against Amors

But let him who breaks away break away in good faith.

I, for my part, want all lovers

To receive great favors, even though I may no longer partake of them.

Up to this point Amors has done me great good,
For he has made me love, without baseness,
The most beautiful and also the best one,

In my opinion, who has ever been chosen.
Amors now wishes, and my lady begs me,

To go away, and I thank her greatly for it.
For I have no greater reason on my side

When my lady, of her own will, chastises me.

I have never merited anything else from Amors

As long as I have been in his service;

But God, in his pity, cured me

When He delivered me from the seignury of love.

I have never seen a better hour

Than when I escaped from him (Amors) without losing my life.
Thus I think I will write many a jeu-parti,

And many a sonet and reverdie.

At the beginning one must keep oneself

From undertaking anything excessive,

But true love does not let a man think

Or choose rightly where to direct his thought.
One loves, rather, in a strange country

Where one cannot come or go

Or do what one can always find;

(In such an) exile, one indeed undergoes madness.

May God keep me from love and from loving
Anyone but Her who ought to be adored,
And from whom one cannot fail to obtain recompense.

 

 

 

 

215

X Douce dame, tout autre pensement

I Sweet lady, when I think about you,
I forget all other thought in my deep desire1
Ever since I first beheld you with my eyes
Amors has not been savage toward me;
5 But he torments me more than before.
For that reason I see that I await no cure
Which might soothe me.
Except to contemplate you
With the eyes of my heart in thought.

 

II 10 If I cannot go to you often,
Let it not grieve you, beautiful, courteous, and wise one;
For I greatly fear the wicked people
Who, by guessing will have caused great harm;
And if I pretend to love elsewhere,
15 Know that it is without heart and without desire
So be understanding about it;
And if it were to grieve you,
I would desist.

 

III Without you, lady, I cannot have joy,
20 Nor do I wish that God would grant me joy from another!
For I prefer to remain in your power
And undergo suffering rather than any good which I might have.
Ha! the smiling, beautiful eyes which welcomed me
Made me change the disposition of my heart (mon corage);
25 So that I who used to
Reproach and despise love,
Now feel its death-dealing pains.

IV A beauty as great as anyone could find

And the courteous manner which governs her body,
30 God made her in order to strike with awe

All those whom she wishes to make joyful.

I do not seek any excess from you, lady,

Except that you might deign

To consider me yours;
35 This would be great solace to me,
And hope of love.

 

1"En mon cora e" is difficult to render. Various interpreta—
tions ("intention, desir, sentiment, pensee, avis") seem inadequate.
"Corage" implies involvement of one's innermost self; the heart as
center of desire as well as of "thoughts" which go beyond the intel-
lectual capacity to focus on an object or person. This idea is
conveyed also in lines 8-9 of this poem.

 

 

 

 

V
40
45

VI

I
5

II
10
15

III
20

There was nothing about her which did not overwhelm me
With a blow that struck sweetly and deeply:
Forehead, mouth, and nose, eyes, the fresh color of her face,
Hands, head, and body, and a beautiful countenance.
My sweet lady, when will I again see
These, my enemies, which have brought me so much pain
By their power?
No man was ever alive
Who loved his enemies as much.

Song, go to the one who knows well
And tell her that I have sung in great fear
And apprehension;
But it is only right that a true lover
Be attentive to his lady.

XI Tuit mi desir et tuit mi grief torment

All my desires and all my painful torments

Come from there where all my thoughts are.

I have great fear, for all

Who have seen her gracious, adorned body

Are well—disposed toward her.

Even God loves her, I know it truly;

It is a great wonder, when he suffers so much because of
her (rivalry).

Overwhelmed, I forget myself while pondering

About where God found such wondrous beauty;

When He placed her among us,

He did us a great service indeed.

The whole world is illumined by her,

For her worth is composed of all great goods;

No one who has seen her would not tell you as much.

May foolish hope be followed by good fortune

Which makes many a lover live and rejoice!

Despair makes one languish and grieve,

And my foolish heart makes me think that I am cured;

If it were wise, it would make me die.

For this reason it is good to be insane,

For with too much (good) sense misfortune can indeed come.

 

1Possible rendering: “when he deprives himself of her so much."

 

 

IV

VI

VII

II

25

3O

35

40

10

15

 

Whoever wished to remember her

Would not feel sickness nor wish to cure it

For she adds greatly to the worth of all those

Whom she wishes to welcome graciously.

God. how painful it was to leave her!

Amors have mercy! Make this known to her:

The heart which does not love cannot have great joy.

Please remember, lady, the sweet welcome

Which was accompanied by such great desire,

That my eyes did not have the power

That I dare glance at you;

With my lips I dared not beg you

Nor speak to you, lady, of that which I wish;

So cowardly was I, alas, and weak, that now I grieve about it.

Lady, if I may address you,
I will speak much better than I am accustomed to do,
If only Amors, who treats me with exceeding pride, lets me.

Song, go straightway and announce to Raoul
That he should serve Amors and bid fair welcome
And sing as much as a bird caught in a trap.

XII De nouveau m'estuet chanter

Once again I find it fitting to sing

When I am most distressed.

When I can find no pity,

I must, indeed, sing reluctantly;

I dare not speak to her;

I am making a messenger of my song

For she (the lady) is so courteous and wise
That I cannot think of anything else.

If I could forget

Her beauty and her good words,

And her sweet countenance,

I could indeed by cured;

But I cannot take my heart away from her.

So much do I think of her with true desire (de fin corage).
Perhaps I have thus committed great folly;

It still suits me to be perseverent.

 

 

 

 

 

218

III Everyone says that he is dying of love,

But I seek not to ever die from it.
I prefer to hear my grief,

20 Live, wait, and languish,
For she is indeed worth
My sufferings and unrequited desire.
He does not love rightly
Who seeks to profit from it.

IV 25 Lady, one who has great fear

Is often driven to frenzy
And insane thoughts,
And I cannot keep myself from them.
If it is your pleasure

30 My suffering will be redeemed,
For only the one whom I desire
Can make my heart rejoice.

V No one can have great joy
If he has not learned it from great suffering.
35 He who always has his own way
Will hardly be a true lover.
For this reason Amors causes suffering,
That he wishes to give recompense
To those who know how to wait
40 And serve according to his (Amors') will.

VI Lady, with all my power
I give myself to you without dispute,
For, without you, no wealth can come.
To me, nor have any merit.

 

1"Ne ne puet valoir." The "ne ne" construction is difficult
to render. One could possibly interpret this line to mean, "Sans vous,
nul bien (ne) puisse Etre rendu a moi, ni puisse valoir." Since the
text as given by Wallenskold offers no clear interpretation, one might
assume that this is an instance of scribal error, giving rise to several
possible interpretations. One might assume that "ne ne" should really
be "ne me," and interpret the final clause as——"Nor have I any worth."
One would have to assume that the verb "puet" (l. 44) is also incorrect,
the correct reading being "ne me puis valoir." This seems to be a bit
far from the established text, although the idea thereby expressed is
certainly fitting to the "courtly love" ethos, that of the lover being
0f no worth except through the lady's recognition of him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

II

10

15

20

25

30

35

 

 

XIII Nus hons ne puet ami reconforter

No one can give comfort to a lover
Except the one to whom he has given his heart,
For this reason I am given to lamenting and Weeping
For no comfort comes to me, it is clear,
From there where all my memory lies.
For loving Well I am often in distress
T speak truly.
Lady, have mercy! Give me hope
Of having joy!

0

I cannot speak to her very often
Nor contemplate her beautiful eyes.
It grieves me that I cannot go there,
For my heart is always (there) in its entirety.
Ah! beautiful one, sweet without knowing it!
Please give me better expectations
Of good hope!
Lady, have mercy! Give me hope
Of having joy!

I do not know how to beg mercy of her enough
Without her thinking that I am feigning it,
For so many people are given to deception
That true lovers can hardly be recognized.
This brings me death and disadvantage,
(Takes away) all my joy and confidence

And makes me grieve.
Lady, have mercy! Give me hope

Of having joy!

There were some who reproach me
For not saying whose lover I am,
But never will anyone alive know it
Except you, lady, to whom I express it
With great cowardice, fear, and apprehension
You can tell, then, indeed, by my manner
The disposition of my heart.
Lady, have mercy! Give me hope
Of having joy!

 

 

 

220

V Amors, I wish to enter a claim against you
For you have committed great larceny.
You know only too well how to steal a man's heart,
40 But in returning it there is neither limit nor end,
Thus you keep it trembling in the balance.
Amors, in you I have placed the writ
Of my desire. ‘

 

Lady, have mercy! Give me hope
45 Of having joy! ;
VI Song, go to Nanteuil without delay!

Tell Philip that if he were not of France,
He would be worth much more.
Lady, have mercy! Give me hope
50 Of having joy!

XIV Tout autresi con fraint nois et yvers

I Just as snow and winter melt away

When summer comes and the fair season returns,

False prayers proffered by false lovers ought to melt away

And the plight of true lovers be amended;

5 And I fear greatly that it will go badly for me

If it goes well for all the others;

But I direct myself so steadfastly to that place where
beauty dwells

That I am a magnet, even though all does not respond to
me like iron.

II By God, Amors, I shall hence be weak and pale
10 And more distressed than one who wears a hairshirt
For I know not of you any other state
Than that which brings me such distress.
Do not be like the swan who always
Beats his cygnets, when he ought to treat them better.
15 When they are large and return to the nest
And first he nourished and cared for them.

 

1The text gives the singular "i1 Vient" where "ils viennent“ is
clearly needed for the sense of this legend as presented in the bestiary
tradition. It seems that Thibaut has confused the pelican and swan
legends. According to bestiary tradition, it is the pelican that kills
its young, reviving them three days later with its own blood. See
McCullough, pp. 155-156.

 

 

 

 

IV

VI

20

25

3O

35

40

221

No pain exists for those who await recompense;

It is, rather, a joy, for those who understand this.
One who always wishes to do his own will.

Can be reproached for many things.

Those who do not know how to wait to be honored
Ride about dressed in rich attire.

In Amors there are many great rewards

With which he can make his faithful one joyful.

Certainly, lady, I know indeed

That I need not lose if I know not how to defend myself.
Amors comes hastening to make me love you

And I declare myself defeated without dealing a blow;
And you hold the victory standard

So that no one can reproach you for it;

And (yet) I want you to know one thing:

If you put me to death, you gain nothing.

No one unwillingly catches a bird in a trap

Which he does not wound or kill or frighten,

And Amors acts likewise

Toward many of those he keeps in his school;

He draws them sweetly and shows them why;

At first each is so happy that he flies.

You are very attractive to me, but words fail me here
For I will tell you for whom this grieves me.

Song, go to the place where I see

A sweet heart at least, and speak these words;
If my eyes are far, this frightens me,

But I always have confidence in my faith.

 

 

 

 

II

IV

 

10

15

20

25

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4O

45

 

222

XV Amors me fet conmencier
________________________

Amors is making me begin

F0

r

A new song

he wants to teach me

How to love the most beautiful one
In the world:

The lady with the graceful body

Is the one of whom I sing.

May God grant me news

That would be to my liking!

For my heart frequently

Beats rapidly for her.

My sweet, beautiful lady

Could advance me greatly

If she wanted to help me.

With this little song.

I love nothing

As much as her

And her qualities

Which renew my heart.

Amors ensnares and takes me captive
And makes me glad and joyful.
Because he calls me to himself.

When true love summons me

F0

r

It pleases me exceedingly

that is what I desired most

In all the world.

Now I must serve him

——I cannot keep myself from it--
And be more obedient in all things
Than to anything else in the world.
Even if he makes me languish

And I go to my death,

My soul will be saved by it.

If the best one in this world

A1

1

Has not given me her love,

lovers will say

That this is a hard fate.

If it still might happen

That I have, without fail,

My joy and my pleasure

From the one I have loved so much,
Then they will say, without lying,
That I shall have attained my desire
And fulfilled my quest.

The one for whom I sigh,

The fair blonde

Can indeed say and avow

That Amors has made great haste for her.

 

 

 

II

IV

VI

10

15

2O

25

3O

35

 

XVI En chantant vueil ma dolor descouvrir

I wish to disclose my sorrow in song

For I have lost that which I desired the most.
Alas! I know not what will become of me

For it is from my love that I hope to receive joy;
Thus I shall have to languish in sorrow,

When I can no longer see nor hear

The beautiful one to whom I was attentive.

Heavy are my sighs when I think of her,

And that is constantly, for never would I give it up
It suits me to obey many people for her;

I know not if anyone goes this way.

But, if anyone can come to true love

Through loving well and serving loyally,

I know indeed that I shall still have joy from it.

My melodies are so full of anguish and sorrow
Because of you, lady, whom I have loved so much,
That I know not if I sing or if I weep;

Thus must I suffer my fate.

But, if it please God, I will still see the day
When Amors will have taken another turn

By giving you better thoughts about me.

Be mindful, lady, of true love:

That loyalty has not forgotten you,

That I trust so much in your merit

That it always seems as if I have found mercy,
And nevertheless I die night and day!

May God grant that, to take away my sorrow,
My pain be eased by you!

Lady, I want you to know in truth

That no (other) lady has ever been loved by me,

Nor do I ever want to be parted from you;

I have directed all my heart and intention toward you.
Lady, I do not seek to deceive,

For never have I had to endure such pain.

Please do not frighten me at the outset!

Song, go without delay!
Beg her who has the most power
That you be sung by her often.

 

I
5
II 10
15

III
20
25

IV
30
35

 

XVII Je me cuidoie partir

I thought I made a break

From Amors, but it is all in vain.

The sweet pain of remembrance 1
Which does not leave me day or night !
During the day assaults me, ‘
And at night I cannot sleep;

Thus I lament and sigh and weep. .5
God! I burn so when I remember her

But I know well it does not matter to her.

No one ought to betray Amors

Except churls and debauchees

And, unless it brings pleasure,

I see no profit in it;

I want him1 to find me full of ardor,
Without guile or deceit;

But if I can pursue the deer,

That which can flee so swiftly,

There is no one as joyful as Thibaut.

The deer is adventuresome

And as white as snow,

And its two tresses

Are finer than Spanish gold.

The deer is in a retreat

With a very dangerous entry

And thus is guarded from wolves:
These are the wicked, envious people
Who distress the courtly too much.

Neither the dying knight

Who has lost his armor,

Nor the village whose houses, vineyards,
Wheat and grain are consumed by fire,
Nor the hunter caught in brambles,

Nor the starving wolf

Suffers, in comparison with me.

For I fear that I am among those

Who love beyond their means.

 

1The use of the pronoun “ele" is ambiguous here due to the
gender (feminine singular) of the—word amors (Amors) in medieval French.
The antecedent here could be Amors or it could simply be the lady who is
referred to indirectly in the following metaphor of the deer. I have
rendered "ele" in this stanza as "him," equating it with the personage
0f Amors. —This interpretation is, I think, more syntactically

acceptable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

225

V Lady, I ask you one thing:

Do you think that it is a sin
To kill one's true lover?

40 Yes, indeed! you know it is!
If it pleases you, then kill me,
For I wish it and consent to it,
And, if you love me better alive,
I say to you before witnesses,

45 You will be much happier for it.

VI Lady, with whom none can compare,
I beg you, please,
To have mercy!

VII Renaut, Philip, Laurent,
50 The words which make you laugh
Are truly filled with pain.

 

XVIII De ma dame souvenir

I Amors has woven my lady's memory
Into my innermost desire,
It makes me die joyfully
If I find her cruel toward me.
5 The beautiful one whom I desire so much
Will do what she pleases with me
For I am hers without fail.
No one can even buy
The goods that Amors can give.

II 10 Beautiful and good lady, I wish to spend
My whole life serving you;
My heart and deepest desire
Are devoted entirely to you without fail.
Deign, by your grace,
l5 Amors, to keep me in your service!
Make her think of me!
No one can even buy
The goods that Amors can give.

 

1"Corage" in this chanson is translated as "innermost desire"
(l. 2) and as "deepest desire" (l. 12); cf. footnote, chanson X. The

use of corage and sauvage as a rhymed pair seems to have been a pre-
ferred combination for Thibaut; used here in lines 2 and 4; in chanson

X also in lines 2 and 4.

 

 

 

 

III
20

25

IV

30

35

4O

45

VI

50

Amors has a custom

When waging war against a lover:

He makes his suffering pleasing to him.
It seems to me that in my case

No good can come to me

Other than the solace from on high

Which God deigns to let me find in Amors.
No one can even buy

The goods that Amors can give.

 

And whoever would be mindful of

Her great merit always (would realize that)

She is above the best ones;

For it always happens that I see her

And that her fresh complexion

Is a mirror in my heart.

God! how beautifully it reflects itself there!
No one can even buy

The goods which Amors can give.

 

 

Since I must wait thus,

It seems that I commit folly.

I do not think that I will ever find mercy
Even if I try every path.

I trust my lady too much;

I did not deserve

That she grieve me so.

No one can even buy

The goods which Amors can give.

Song, go straightway and tell
Blazon, my friend,

To have you sung!

No one can even buy

The goods which Love can give.

XIX Li douz penser et 1i douz souvenir

Sweet thought and sweet memory

Make my heart begin to sing,

And also noble Amors who doesn't let me linger,
And who maintains his own (servants) in joy;

And puts sweet remembrance in their hearts.

Amors, indeed, is of power too lofty;

He makes the distressed man rejoice

But does not let him part from him because of pain.

 

 

 

 

 

227

II No one can maintain wit or honor

10 If he has not borne the sufferings of love,
Nor will he rise to great worth
Nor will he see any great future;
For this reason, Amors, I beg of you a fair countenance
Since one must not part from you out of distress,

15 Nor would I ever do that
For I wish to die entirely perfect in love.

 

III Lady, if I dared to make my plea to you,

Much good would come to me from it,
But I have not the boldness

20 That I dare reason well before you.
This rends me and slays me and distresses me.
Your beauty wounds my heart so
That my eyes cannot help me
With the glance that I desire so much.

 

IV 25 When I had1 to leave you, lady,
There certainly was never a more sorrowful man;
And God would, I believe, strengthen me
If I could ever approach you;
All the good and all the bad which befalls me

30 Comes from you, sweet true lady,

And except for you, no one can ever help me.
Nor will anyone, if he should need to.

V No one is capable of describing
Even a fiftieth of her great beauty,
35 The pleasant words, the amorous glances
Make me rejoice and grieve often.
From them I await the joy which my heart ardently desires,
And fear reenters my body.
Thus I must, of necessity, die.

40 Lady, you who are my sole desire,
I greet you from across the salty sea,
As the one whom I think of night and day,
And no other thought gives me joy.

 

1(L. 25) the past tense is clearly required here for a logical
sequence of tenses; the O.F. text, however, reads couvient, present
tense.

 

 

 

 

 

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XX chanter m'estuet, que ne m'en puis tenir

I must sing, I cannot keep from it.

And yet, I have nothing but vexation and grief;

But it is always good to rejoice

For no one gets ahead by mourning.

I sing, not like a man who is loved,

But like one who is distressed, pensive and abandoned;
For I no longer have hope of anything good,

I must always resort to words.

I can tell you one thing without lying:

That with Amors there is fortune and misfortune.

If I could part from her

It would be better for me than to be lord of France.
Once I said like a desperate madman:

I would rather die remembering her beauty

And her great merit and sweet company

Than be proclaimed lord of the whole world.

Nothing good will come to me, I know indeed,

For Amors hates me and my lady forgets me,

It is reasonable; he who devotes himself to loving
Must not fear death, pain, or madness.

Since I have given myself to my lady

Amors wishes it, and when it pleases him

I shall either die or have my beloved back again,
Or my life will not be my salvation.

The Phoenix seeks the pyre and the vines

In which he burns himself and gives up his life.
I also sought my death and my torment

When I saw her, if pity helps me not.

God! how delectable was the sight of her

From whom I will suffer such torment!

The memory makes me die of yearning

And of desire and of great will.

Amors is indeed of exceeding power

For he does good and ill as it suits him.

He makes me suffer much too long;

Reason tells me to take my thought away.

But I have a heart like no other;

Which tells me constantly: "Love, love, love!“;
No other reasoning does it offer,

And I shall love, I cannot be deterred from it.

VI

VII

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229

Lady, have mercy! you who know all good.
All merit and all great goodness

Are in you more than any other lady born.
Help me, you who are able to do it!

50 Song, run to Philip, my friend!
Since he has become part of the court,
His love has indeed turned to hate;
Hardly will he be loved by a beautiful lady.

XXI Tout autresi con l'ente fet venir

Just as the water which falls
Makes a grafted scion grow,
So does remembrance give birth to true love
And make it grow and flower through habit and use.
No one ever overcomes true love,
Thus one must be content to remain at its mercy.l
Because of my sweet sorrow,
Full of such great fear,
Lady, I make great efforts to sing,
When, in my heart, I am weeping.

Would to God that, to cure my sorrow,
She were Thisbe, for I am Pyramus.
But I see well that it cannot happen:
And thus I shall die for I cannot bear it anymore.
Ah, beautiful one! how distraught I am because of you!
The first day I saw you
You struck me with a lightning bolt
And I was overwhelmed by the burning fire of love,
The bow was not like the arc of dawn
Which strikes so softly.

My lady, if I served God
And prayed to Him as truly and as wholeheartedly
As I do you, I know indeed
That I would not have to rent an altar in Paradise;
But I cannot serve or pray to
Anyone but you, whom my heart seeks.
And yet I cannot perceive that
I should ever have any joy,
And I can only see you
With my eyes closed, in the depths of my darkened heart.

 

1The translation does not render the contrast made in the text:

desus (l. 5); desouz (1. 6).

 

 

 

   

 

The prophet, who does not lie, states rightly

That in the end the just will falter;

And the end has come, indeed,

For cruelty overcomes mercy and entreaty,

And service is of no use,

Nor is true love nor long—suffering.
Thus pride and arrogance have more power
Than sweet desire i

 

And there is no way to deal with Amor [sic]
Except to wait without hope.

Eagle, without you I can find no mercy.
I see and know indeed that I lack everything;
If you wish to evade me thus
And have no pity on me
You will (still) never have such a loyal friend
Nor would you ever find aid.
And I shall die, miserable,
My life will be ever worse
Far from your beautiful, fair face
Where the rose and the lily bloom.

Eagle, I have learned so well

How to be a loyal friend

That your smile is worth much more to me
Than any other paradise.

XXII A enviz sent mal qui ne l'a apris

He who hasn't learned, suffers reluctantly:

It is necessary to cure it or die or remain,

And my suffering, alas! of which I dare not complain
Is much more overwhelming than all others.

I want to die, but when the hope of

Attaining great joy confronts me,

Then I am comforted. Indeed, if only I could

Suffer in peace; but I cannot, it is clear.

And this one is so tormented by Amors

That he remains entirely at his command;

It is a great wonder to me that Amors can be so deceitful
To me, for I am devoted to my lady.

Ever since I saw her beautiful body, straight and fine,
And her fair face which distracts me so,

I never thought anyone could be as deceitful

As he; it is still all the worse for me.

III

IV

 

 

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But he who serves and awaits mercy

Must have true, entire joy;

And I, who dare not entreat her directly
——So greatly do I fear her refusal——
Ought to go away, indeed, by faith,

But I cannot see how I could do it.

It cannot be thus; I give myself to her
And she is in no way within my dominion.

Henceforth I wish to make my entreaty singing,

And, if it pleases her, she will not be so haughty toward me,
For I do not think that anyone who seeks

Amors' mercy has a heart that does not weep,

So that, if Pity falls at my lady's feet on my behalf,

I doubt greatly that she will not be conquered.

Thus I know not if I act foolishly or wisely

For this decision depends upon her judgment.

If my lady does not act otherwise

Toward me, who love her with such great ardor

-—I desire her greatly--and, if she despises me,

I am Narcissus who drowns of his own power.

I am nearly drowned, distant is my cure,

If I must wait forever for her help.

I must serve well in order to receive such great recompense,
I would like very much for her to know my faith.

Lady, mercy! may I have pardon from you!

I love you so much, this is indeed an amorous quest.
I cannot hide my thought very well

And so you will be aware of it, I believe.

XXIII Changon ferai, que talenz m'en est pris

Since desire has overtaken me, I will write a song,
About the best (lady) in the whole world.
About the best? I think I have made a mistake.
If she were such, if God granted me joy,
She would have taken pity on me,
For I am entirely hers and at her mercy.
God, is there no pity in the heart
Of such a beauty? My lady, of whom I beg mercy,
I feel love's sufferings for you,
Do you feel them for me?

 
 

 

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232

Sweet lady, I was once without love,

When I noticed your noble manner;

And when I saw your beautiful, fair face,

My heart began to beat again:

It summons and commands me to love you,

And it is entirely at your command.

The body languishes, for it is cruelly put to the test,

If you take no pity on it of your own accord.
The sweet pains from which I await joy
Have wounded me so
That I shall die if she makes me wait.

Indeed has Amors great strength and great power
To choose at will, without reason.
Without reason? God, I cannot say that I know,
For my heart is grateful to my eyes
Which chose such a beautiful one,
From whom I shall never part;
Thus shall I suffer great penance for her,
So that pity and mercy will overcome her.
Will you say who has stolen my heart?
The sweet smile and her beautiful eyes.

Sweet lady, if it pleased you, in one evening
You could give me more joy
Than Tristan, who did all in his power,
Ever had any day of his life;
My very joy is turned into grief.
Ah, body without a heart! She who cuts me to the heart
Has wreaked great vengeance upon you,
And yet I shall never part from her.
He who has a beautiful lady's love
Must keep it and love her well.

My lady, for you I wish to go folly's way,
For I love my pains and my sorrow,
For after the sufferings I await great joy
Which I shall have shortly, if it pleases God.
Amors, have mercy! do not be forgotten!
If you fail me now, it will be double treason
That my great sufferings for you please me so much.
Do not let me be forgotten very long!
If the beautiful one has no pity on me,
I shall not live very long.

The great beauty which overwhelms and pleases me
And who is more desirable than all others
Has laced my heart in her prison.

God! I think only of her,

Doesn't she think of me?

 

 

 

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XXIV Contre 1e tens qui devise

In honor of the season which divides

Winter and the rain of summer,

When the thrush, who has not sung for such a long time,
Sings graciously, 1
I shall write a song, for it comes willingly
To me, for I have thought about it. A
Amors who has become a part of me. p
Has shot his arrow straight at me.

 

 

Sweet lady, I have found

No generosity in you,

Unless it has been put there

Since I have seen you.

You are much too haughty toward me,

But your beauty which is shared by no other
Causes this;

For it is there in such abundance.

There is no abstinence in me

That I might direct my thoughts
Somewhere else than toward her, where

I can find neither recognition nor mercy.
I was indeed made for loving her,

For I cannot be satisfied,

The more that befalls me,

The more I fear her.

I fear one thing

That I cannot hide:

That she is a bit too young.
This causes me discomfort

For, if she thinks well of me,
She dare not show it.

If only she might show it,

So that I might guess it!

Since (the moment) when I entreated her
And gazed upon her,

Love made the light pass

Through my eyes to my heart.

This passage causes me pain

Against which I have no defense,

Nor can I turn it back;

My heart would rather break.

My lady, I must cry out to you
And beg your mercy.
May God grant that I find mercy!

 
 

 

 

234

XXV Dame, l'en dit que l'en meurt bien de joie

I Lady, it is said that one can indeed die of joy.
I have feared1 it, but it was for nothing,
For I believe that if I were in your arms
I would come to a joyful end.
5 Such sweet death would be to my liking,
For the pain of love which wages war on me 1
Is so very great that I fear death from it.

II If God grants me that which I sought from Him
Only this keeps me from death,
10 It is reasonable: if I died for her
Her heart would grieve for me;
And I must consciously keep
From angering her, for I would not want
To be in Paradise if she were not mine there.

III 15 God promises us that he who attains
Paradise can hope to obtain
All that he wishes; he will never have to lament,
For he shall have it all, immediately, without delay;
And, if I can merit Paradise,
20 There I shall have my lady without restraint
Or God will have failed His word.

 

IV Great love cannot be separated or broken
Unless it is in a disloyal, deceitful,
False, cheating heart, which, through lies and pretentions,
25 Puts much distance between the loyal and their joy.
But my lady, with her sweet, beguiling words,
Knows so well, in my opinion, how to make herself sought after,
That she recognizes that which makes one drawn to her.

V If I could live long enough that
30 My sorrows would matter to her, I might well be cured;
But she considers my words as pure invention
And always says that I wish to deceive her;
And I love her and want and desire her so much
That there is nothing in the world which matters to me but her,
35 I would rather be dead than be deceptive.

VI Lady, whoever wants to keep his prisoner well .
And if he has captured him after such a hard fight,
Should give him grain after the chaff.

 

1Line 2, Je l'ai doute: There are two meanings possible: I
have feared it; I have doubted it. Either meaning is acceptable here.
The poet could have meant: "I doubted it, until I met you, Lady; being
in your arms would indeed bring me so much joy that I would die." The
Choice of the word "fear" is a rather arbitrary one, which gives the
emphasis "I once feared death, but it was for nothing, for now I find
that such a joyous end would be to my liking."

 

 

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XXVI Je ne puis bien metre en nonchaloir

I cannot be indifferent about singing

When Amors commands me to do so;

Because of this I have the greatest sorrow in the world,
For I dare not reveal my thought;

I see others practice deceit in doing so.

Such as they feign love who desire it not at all;

I sing that I might hold back my tears,

And await joy after my sorrow.

This sorrow which should befit me

Is (a river) without banks or bottom;

And if there is no one who can answer me otherwise,

I will have demonstrated this with great reason;

For after great suffering it is said to be true

That great joy is oftentimes recovered.

If it is thus, I have no fear

That, for my sufferings, I shall not have the reward.

This reward, God! when shall I receive it?
Certainly, lady, I await it from you alone.
Your beauty and your fair manner

Make me have good hope;

And I know not if I have committed great folly
For greatly do I fear false semblance from you.
And so I say it, for I cannot hide it,

Nor can I leave you or move away.

I will never move away or take leave of you,
I would not do it for anything that lives.
If I leave, when I recover from it

And await whatever befalls me,

And thereby hide my troubled heart,

Then I shall see if Amors is aware of it
And if he knows how to reward a friend.

I shall not lose for having hidden.

Hiding is said to be of great value to a lover,
But I can perceive no good in it.

My own concealment does me more harm than good,
For jongleurs who tease and provoke

Say so much that they receive mercy right away,
And do not care a trice if they lie.

And I, lady, give myself to you as a pensive,
Humble, concealing, perfect, loyal friend:

No man will ever love truly
If he has a deceptive, cheating heart.

 

 

 

 

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XXVII Empereor ne roi n'ont nul pouoir

Emperors and kings have no power
In comparison with Amors, this I wish to prove to you:
They can give their wealth,
Lands and fiefs, and pardon wrongdoings,
But Amors can keep a man from death
And give joy that lasts,
Full of good fortune.

Amors makes a man worth more
And no one but he could change this;
Great desire gives sweet inclination
So that no one can think about anything else.
Above all, one must love Love (Amors);
He fails in nothing except restraint
And in that, he causes me great difficulty.

If Amors wanted to give as much reward
As he is able to, his name would indeed be appropriate,
But he does not wish to do so, for which Ihavea.sorrowful heart,
For he keeps me distressed, without reward;
And I am such that, whatever be the outcome,
I will be dedicated to serving him.
I have begun it and shall not recant.

Lady, will one ever have the mercy he awaits?
You know that, all in all,
I am yours; it could never be otherwise.
I do not know if this sickness would strike me down.
For so many tries (there is) little success,
So that, if I dared say it,
My joy would be only too great.

I don't think there has ever been anyone
Whom Amors has kept at such a perilous point.
I am so distraught that I am losing my senses;
I feel and see well that this is hardly a game.
When she acts lovingly toward me

I believe that I have a friend

But later I find that I have none.

Lady, my death and my life
Are in you, whatever I say.

Raoul, he who serves and entreats
Would have great need of help.

‘~_~_—_

1(L. 12) in the original text, "doit on Amors amer," the

juxtaposition of the lexically related terms Amors and amer creates
an intensity which translation does not quite render. The emphaSIS
Of the meaning of the name Amors is stressed also In chanson XXX,
"Savez por quoi Amors a non amors."

 

 
 

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XXVIII Por froidure ne por yver felon

 

Neither because of the cold nor cruel winter

Shall I give up
Writing songs about love,

And I shall state
That whoever loves should repent of it, if he is able.
Everyone says it, but is given to lying about it.
Whoever loves well cannot be parted from it,
As long as the soul is part of the body.

I speak for myself, for I have thought about it:
I have disputed with myself.
The more I become conscious of such a motive,
The more I am afraid
That the fear comes from my own, loyal thought.
The more I think of her, the more it is there in abundance.
Lady, mercy! I can fail you no more
Than will the sea fail for lack of rain.

 

Lady, if I fear my great suffering

Let it not grieve you,
For you can indeed alleviate my suffering.

Go to her,
Song, and tell her, weeping
That one token of love's mercy given with a sigh
Is worth a hundred times more to a true, loyal ami
Thank his beloved (amie) could ever imagine.

Strong are the snares and large is the net
——This is no boast--

In which the one who loves is caught.
And what will you say,

Since I know and recognize her manner

And am devoted to her entourage.

Has she taken me bound and seized? (saisi)

Yes, indeed, I shall never be freed. (dessaisie)

Since it is thus, I shall wait dutifully
With long-suffering hope,
For there is nothing I would like so much
As to do her will
Without reproach,
In this lies my heart and my thought;
In this manner, I believe that I shall have mercy.
God, when shall I see that for which I thank (mercie) her!

No one but you, lady,

Can estimate how long this suffering may last;
And, please, do not forget it,

For at no time does my heart forget you.

 

 
 

 

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XXIX Coustume est bien, quant on tient un prison

It is customary, when one keeps a prisoner
That he does not want to hear or listen to him,
For nothing makes the heart as cruel

As great power, if one wishes to misuse it.

For this reason, lady, I fear for myself,

For I dare not speak of ransom,

Nor of being a hostage, if not in disguise.
After all this, I cannot escape.

I have great suspicion in my heart about something;

It is the thing which makes me most afraid:

That there are so many people all around her.

I know indeed that it is to cause me pain.

They are always saying: "Lady you are being deceived;
A rich man will never love for love's sake."

But they lie, the evil losengiers,

For he who has more must be more careful in love.

If my lady doesn't want to love anyone,

Myself or anyone else, I thank her five hundred times;
For there are many others who, unlike myself,

Entreat boldly, with false hearts.

Boldness often wins,

But I am senseless when I am before her;

I have so much suffering, pain, and anxiety

That I can only say: "God be with you!"

You know well that no one recognizes in himself
That which one fully recognizes in another.

Never did I recognize my own folly,

So greatly have I loved with a true, loyal heart;
But one thing soothes me a little:

That I have some refuge in hope.

The bird puts himself into the trap

When he can find no other safeguard.

It often happens when I think of her

That, in the midst of my suffering, a sweetness comes

Into my heart with such intensity that I forget myself entirely

And it seems as if I were in her arms;

And afterward, when I come to my senses, and I see that I have
completely failed

Then I become angered and swear and curse myself,

For I know that she has no memory of it.

Of you of beauty and of mercy difficult to obtain,

If my travails do not merit you, . .
I shall live in suffering if it is fitting for me to live,

 

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XXX Savez 201' 920.1 Amors a non amors

 

Do you know why Amors, who makes only his own (follOWers)
Suffer, is called amors?

Whoever might know it, let him give his opinion,

For I do not know, God help me!

Amors seems like a devil who manipulates:

The one who trusts him he deceives all the more.

And it burdens me a hundred thousand times more

For him than for myself if I should ever have mercy

When one can accuse him of treachery.

I am his alone and feel the pains of it,

And am burdened greatly by his ill,

And believe that in his goodness lies my advancement
For generosity is bestowed upon many by one's lords;
And the one who chastises his lord

When he acts cruelly serves him well.

But Amors does not care about chastisement

For he has seen and heard so much

That nothing that anyone says matters to him.

Amors has angered me so many times

That in my anger, I have no more power;

Thus I am his all the more when I despair the most.
Just like one who lies sick

Next to the hearth and cannot defend himself
Threatens to cut people in two,

Likewise I say this to soothe myself.

It does great good when one hears it spoken of;
One can better withstand Amors' assault.

If I lament over it, it should not cause great amazement,
For God made her in order to make men grieve.

There where Amors brought me to see her,

I still feel the very sweet touch

Given by her tender white hand

When she took me by the hand to greet me,

I love the hand by which I wish to be touched

More than the body which it brings to mind

For Amors knows how to comfort his own (servants).

He who knows how to love would know how to hate

Better than any other man, if he wanted to.

But there is no loyalty nor reason in this,

That he who loves well should depart from it,

Thus each one must love his renown.

And if Amors reflected upon it

He would give joy and succour

To be true, loyal friend for having suffered great ill;
Thus he would be served and honored.

Ht.

 

 

 

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240

Lady, have mercy! The perfumed hand

To which, night and day, I give a hundred kisses, one
after another,

Makes me speak of you in such a spirited manner

That it seems to me that I have found mercy.

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XXXI Les douces dolors

The sweet sufferings
And the pleasant pains
Which come from love
Are gentle and burning,
And he who boldly commits folly
Will hardly receive help.
I have committed one from which fear
Takes hold of my body so that I feel it.

It is indeed great folly
To love loyally.
Would that one could
Direct his desire elsewhere!
Oh, God, I have learned so much about this
That sooner would a tower
Be overturned by flowers
Than I would ever be found cowardly.

Long delays
And great desire have overcome me
So that, to her own detriment
Does she wish to anger me.
She will do less to be esteemed
If I have no comfort from her,
For there is nothing in the world so difficult
For her that would not be easy for me.

I sing and take diversion

In order to soothe myself

And see in my fate

Vexation and danger (difficulty).
I shall perish so easily
When I cannot reach port,
Yet I have no recourse elsewhere
Without breaking my allegiance.

 

 

 

 

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241

V Lady, I have devoted everything,
--Both heart and mind——
35 To you and have been steadfast
Without ever wavering.
If I wanted to enumerate
Your beauty, your worth,
I would have too many enemies.
40 Therefore I dare not speak of them.

VI Lady, I can last no longer,
For my situation grows ever worse,
Until you say: "Friend,
I want to give you my love."

XXXII Por ce se d'amer me dueil

Even though I lament about loving,

I still have great comfort from it,

For I always remember,

God! what me eyes beheld:

It is her great, true beauty

Which assaults me through several of my senses,
So that I am in great turmoil:
It is with my heart, my body and my eyes that I see her.
But she has my heart, which is of the greatest power.
God grant that she might wish to have the others!

Many people have a way of acting
Which might be right or wrong,
And Amors strikes unceasingly;
Never will he fear haughtiness.
The wise man is even more frightened by him
For he (Amors) knows only too wellhow1x>inflictseverewounds.
He has made mine very serious indeed, for he has my heart.
It pleases me when I see it in his prison;
I feel love more through it than through any other faculty.
God grant that he might keep it according to my will!

Lady, he who loses in battle
What he has, for his friend's sake,
(And) he does not receive recompense for it,
Is put to shame by witnesses;
And I lose, without winning it back,
My heart which you keep in prison.
I have not lost, nor will I lose it thus,
For my body will plead to you so much
For its heart, that it will be a great marvel
If you do not become softened by its plea.

 

 

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242

If I owe a man anything

--No such man exists——

Tomorrow he will hate me for it
If I do not put it into his hands.

 

It is indeed right to seek in vain
And to give without return;
(But) I beg of you a thousand times mercy:
I entreat you for what ought to be mine;
For I do not hope, from your gracious manner,
That mercy will come to me before it comes to my heart.
Lady, now I have stated my fear.
I would always much rather listen
If you would ever deign to think of me
With more favor,
But nothing avails me
As long as my heart still trembles
In the prison where you keep it.
God! has any heart ever been so enchanted?
Certainly not! but if the body were captured
With the heart, it would not displease me.
Lady, even a summer would not suffice
In praising your great beauty;
But if I can do anything which might please you,
It would never be serious if it hurt me a little.
XXXIII Une chancon oncor vueil
I I want to write still another song
To comfort myself.
I want to renew my song
For the one who causes me sorrow;
5 For this reason I feel like singing,
That, when I am not singing, my eyes
Often begin to weep.
II I thought my lady

Was simple and candid, without pride.
10 She welcomed me quite graciously;
She did it to grieve me.
My thoughts are directed so exclusively to her
That, at night, when I sleep,
My heart goes to beg mercy.

 

 

 

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243

Sleeping and waking

My heart is entirely hers.

And entreats mercy of her

As of its own lady.

I trust so greatly in her pity

That when I think about her exceedingly
I am completely overcome with joy.

He who feels pain such as mine

Often has joy and sorrow.

My heart weeps and I sing about it;

Thus my eyes have betrayed me.

Amors, you strike quickly

But are slow to grant recompense,
Nonetheless, I entreat you for my own sake.

Alas! if she does not remember me

I will surely die.

If she knew whence comes my suffering,
She would remember me.

This suffering will make me die,

If my lady does not sustain me

A little, of her own will.

Song, tell her without lying
That the glance she gave me
At our separation holds my heart.

Ausi conme unicorne sui

I am like the unicorn

Who is overwhelmed

When he gazes upon the maiden.

He is so joyful in his torment

That, fainting, he falls into her lap;

Then he is murdered in betrayal.

And likewise, indeed,

Amors and my lady have put me to death:

They have my heart; I shall never have it back again.

Lady when I was first before you
And say you

My heart leapt forth
So that it remains with you, although I have gone away.

Then it was led without ransom
Into the sweet prison cell

Whose pillars are of desire

And the doors are of beautiful sight
And the chains of fair hope.

 

 

 

 

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244

Amors has the key to the cell

And has put three doorkeepers there:

Fair Seeming is the name of the first,

And Beauty is put in command;

She has placed Danger at the front door,

A repulsive, cruel, base, and foul—smelling person
Who is extremely evil and cunning.

These three are clever and bold;

They have soon seized many a man.

Who could bear the horrors

And the assaults of these doorkeepers?
Roland and Oliver never

Were victorious in such hard battles;
(For) they conquered by fighting,
These, one conquers by being humble.
Suffering is the standard—bearer;

In the battle I am telling you about
There is no help but mercy.

Lady, I fear nothing more

Than failing in my love for you.

I have learned how to endure so well

That I am yours through habit;

And if it should grieve you,

(Know) that I cannot depart from it for anything
Without having the memory

And without having my heart always

In the prison and I with it.

Lady, since I know not how to be deceptive,
It would be opportune to have pity on me
That I might bear my heavy burden.

XXXV Qui plus aime plus endure

He who loves more endures more

And has more need of comfort,

For Amors is of such a nature

That he leads his friend to death;
Later he has joy and gladness from it
If he is of good fortune.

But I never receive any;

She who has no care for me

Has put me in oblivion.

 

 

 

 

 

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II 10 To my knowledge, no lover
Ever had such difficulty.
By the sighs and the burning desire
And the tears which beset me
I am pierced by the strongest one

15 And placed in great discomfort

And I have no power in comparison with him (Amors).
Thus he laughs when he sees me grieve;
This lacks pity and restraint.

1

III Since pity is lacking

20 I really ought to take leave;
My reason commands and begs me to do so,
But my heart does not wish to undergo it.
Thus it hates me because it serves her.
Yet I love her sovereignty.

25 Lady, I ask you one thing:
That you judge whether he who surrenders himself
Has merited death.

IV Many times I have felt her

While sleeping at my leisure

30 But when sin and desire
Awakened me, and the one whom I thought
I held for my pleasure,
Was not there at all,
I wept bitterly

35 And would much rather hold her
All my life, in a dream.

V My joy in sleeping would be so great

That I wouldn't be able to express it.
Awake, I can find no way

40 To alleviate my pain.
The situation inside out for me
Amors indeed ought to turn
So that I would forget her while sleeping
And have her when awake;

45 Then my joy would be complete

 

1Lines 14—18; the antecedents are unclear in the following
cases: 1. 14, la plus fort; 1. l6, vers 1i; and l. 17, ainz rit.
The referent could be Amors or the lady. I have chosen Amors in this
stanza since it is he who traditionally pierces the lover or ami_with
arrows of amorous passion. Also, it does not seem likely that the lady
would witness the poet's grief. The ambiguity of the antecedent con-
tinues in the interior monologue of the first part of stanza three.
Does the poet refer to service to Amors or to his lady (l. 23); to
the sovereignty of Amors or of the beloved (l. 24)? Either seems
possible.

1::‘r

 

 

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When I wish to beg mercy of her
I am so afraid of her
That I dare not utter my entreaty. 1
Raoul, neither Turks nor Arabs

Have taken anything from you;

Come back soon!

XXXVI De grant joie me sui toz esmeuz

In my desire I am overwhelmed

With great joy that lights my true heart:

Since my lady has sent me a greeting,

I cannot nor should I keep from singing.

I am so gladdened by this gift

As from one, you can be certain,

Who possesses true beauty, courtesy and worth.

For this reason I have placed my entire hope there.

Lady, in God's name, may I not be betrayed

In loving you, for I cannot do otherwise!

Of all friends, I am the most elect,

But I dare not disclose my situation to you.

So greatly did I fear angering you

That I never hence dared to send you any message,
For if, while waiting, I received a bad answer
From you, I would surely die.

Never do I wish to betray nor deceive

-—Nor would anything induce me to learn how—-

The one who is able to favor me,

To do and to undo, to give abundance and joy;

It is all within her power and her will.

God! if she knew my heart and my thought,

I know indeed that I would have won,

Sweet lady, that which my heart treasures the most.

No one who loves ought to be dismayed

If true love distresses and manipulates him,

For he awaits such precious recompense

That it is not right that he break faith in loving,

For he serves more ought to receive more pleasure from it.
I am so devoted to her great beauty

Which is desired and chosen from the others,

That it pleases me to be in her service.

 

 

 

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I can see you with the eyes of my heart, lady,

For my real eyes which have given me the thought of you
Are much too far away from my dear one.

From the day I first saw you,

My desire to see you has been only too great.

Through my song I send you

My heart and my self and all of my thought as a gift.
Accept it, lady, if it pleases you!

Lady, all my thoughts are about you,

And I am yours for the rest of my life.

In God's name, I pray you that, since my true heart
desires you,

My wishes will not be granted at a price which is
too high.

XXXVII Baudoyn il sunt dui amant

--Baudouin, there are two lovers
Who love truly and without deceit
A young maiden.

Which is more deserving of her?
One loves her for her merit

And also for her courtesy;

The other loves her for love

Of the great beauty she possesses.

—-Sire, know indeed

That the one who loves her with his whole loyal heart
Because of her fine upbringing

Ought to be esteemed more;

For courtesy and great honor

Please a loyal friend more

Than beauty or a rosy complexion

Where there is neither pity nor mercy.

-—Baudouin, there is great value and virtue
In great beauty

If she speaks kindly,

Never were words more courteous.

Great beauty drives the heart mad

More than anything else that exists,

And no one can give his heart

If beauty is not there first.

 

 

 

 

248

IV 25 ——Sire, know indeed:

Beauty has lost all her renown,
Since merit has elevated
The lady's name and increased her stature.
It is for courtesy and fair welcome

30 That ladies are praised,
And by which their merit is increased;
Beauty is not capable of this.

V ——Baudouin, one can also find
Old women uglier than dogs
35 Who have courtesy and great wisdom,
But who are worth nothing in bed.1
Does it make her worth loving
That she speaks to you nicely?
The beautiful one cannot say anything wrong;
40 Whatever she says to me is beautiful.

VI —-Sire, I am not saying
That I belong to an old lady, nor shall I ever,
To my knowledge, be devoted to one,
You are trying to reproach me for the fine qualities
45 That a beautiful lady
Who has courtesy and merit can reveal.
It would be more fitting that you reproach
The one who forsakes merit for beauty's sake.

VII -—Baudouin, a mere glance
50 Or a smile given to me
By the beautiful whom I dare not name,
Is worth whatever the ugly one will give.

VIII ——Sire, my own heart will never stray
From the one who has it;
55 Merit given by Courtesy
Has imprisoned it.

 

1There is some disagreement on the correct reading of the
manuscripts concerning the word couchier/touchier. Wallenskold has
chosen the latter since "l'autre mot, si grossier ne nous semble pas
a sa place a cet endroit." Jeanroy—Ldngfors in their Recueil general

de jeux—partis adopted the form couchier.

 

 

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XXXVIII Une chose, Baudoyn, vos demant

——Baudouin, I ask you one thing:
If it happened that a true, loyal friend
Who had loved and entreated mercy of his lady
For so long that she takes pity on him
And commands him to come to fulfill her wishes,
In order to fulfill her wishes,
What will he first do to please her
When she says to him: "Fine friend, you may come"?
Will he kiss her mouth or her feet?

—-Sire, I advise that he first
Kiss her mouth, for I can tell you that
From a kiss on the lips a great sweetness
Descends to the heart, by which is brought to completion
The great desire with which they love one another;
And the joy which enlightens the heart
Cannot be hidden or suppressed by a loyal friend
Thus it seems that he is made totally happy
When he kisses the lips of his lady.

--Baudouin, indeed! I will never lie about it:
Whoever first wishes to kiss his lady
On the mouth has never loved with a true heart;
For thus does one kiss the daughter of a shepherd-—
I would rather kiss her feet and be grateful
Than commit such an outrage.
One must believe that one's lady is proper.
And propriety states that great humility
Makes one worthy of being loved more.

--Sire, I have indeed heard for a long time

That humility is to the lover's advantage,

And since Amors, by humbling the lover,

Has brought him to the point of receiving the recompense

Of having the one whom he has loved and treasures so much,
I say that he would commit folly

If he did not pay homage to her on her lips,

For I have heard, and you know well, that

To abandon her lips to choose her feet is silliness.

--Baudouin, indeed! I did not say that
One ought to abandon her lips in order to have her feet,
But that I prefer to kiss her feet first,
And then afterward, kiss her mouth to my heart's desire,
And her body, which no one considers to be evil,
And her beautiful eyes and her face,
And her blond hair which outshines pure gold.
But you are presumptuous and excessive,
And it seems you know little about love.

 

 

 

 

 

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VI --Sire, it is cowardly indeed, and slack,
If one has permission to kiss and to have
The sweet solace of her long, slender, soft body,
To be indifferent to the sweetness of her lips
50 In order to kiss her feet; it makes no sense.
God grant that he nevermore
Receive such a favor,
For a kiss on the mouth is a thousand times more sweet
Than one on the feet!

VII 55 -—Baudouin, he who has been so perseverent
That he attains his wishes, indeed conducts himself haughtily
If he does not fall at her feet;
I say that he is a mad devil.

VIII ——Sire, he whom Amors ensnares
6O Cannot help it that he forgets about the feet
And chooses her mouth, when he has the time and the place
To accomplish all his desires.

 

XXXIX Phelipe, je vous demant

I -—Philip, I ask you:
There are two friends, young
And mirthful bacheler,
With true hearts, who love loyally.
5 One is accepted (by his lady),
The other is still being put to the test.
Which one is to be esteemed more,
The one who is loved or the one who entreats?

II —-Count, know indeed:

10 The one who is loved is free from all care
And for that reason is more desirous
Of being worthy; I know it well;
When one has more, one becomes more ardent
And eager to do good.

15 The one who seeks mercy and aid
Cannot be worth much.

III --Philip, it is reasonable
That the one who seeks ought to be worth more,
For he has such great reward
20 As his goal.
The one who seeks, tries,
But the one who is at the summit
Never seeks to depart
From his beloved.

 

 

 

VIII

—-Count, the one who entreats

Will always have sorrow and suspicion,

And the thought of when he will receive pardon
Will always burden his heart;

But the one who has what he seeks

Never wonders if he is worthy:

Joy has procured his worth for him,

As well as his lady, when she entreats him.

-—Philip, the one who wishes to be attentive
To his lady, and who awaits day and night
Receiving her mercy from her,

Ought to be worth more.

This thought makes him have

A heart which is valiant and bold.

He who has attained joy

Never strives to his fullest capacity.

 

——Count, you must realize

That you have failed in this:

If one is worth less because of having joy,
Then all lovers are the object of shame.

If he who gives himself over to sorrow

Is worth more than a joyful friend,

We must make the ladies know

That no one loves them at all.

—-Philip, I ask

My friend Auberon

To tell the truth

Or may his tongue be shamed!

--Count, I send for Rodrigue le Noir
On your account, and beg him

That he send us his judgment

Of who is right in this partie.

 

 

 

 

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XL Cuens, je vous part un gieu par aatie

-—Count, I challenge you to a jeu—parti
And will rely on your judgment:
Two knights each love their beloved;
One of the two loves quite loyally,
The other is extremely deceitful.
Which one suffers more, may God bless you;
The loyal one or the one who cheats and lies
And deceives?
Tell me truly,

Sire, right away,
And take one of the alternatives now.

And I shall take the other

And respond likewise

According to your words, by singing.

-—Monsieur, Gui, the game suits me well,
And of the better choice I will give you my opinion,
That loyalty will never be destroyed by me,
And I will persevere in it for the rest of my life.
The disloyal one feels neither pleasure nor pain
For he is asleep in his vile treachery,
And does not care about how to obtain merit,
Wrong or right,
When he deceives

The one who would place
Both heart and body at his commandment.

Damned be he who acts in such a way!

He who is good and awaits good

Will never have a sorrowful heart.

--Count, I know your thought very little;
You have not suffered the pains of love:
All other sorrows are like dew in comparison to
The suffering of one who loves and cannot have joy;
And I beg God that he make you know
What sufferings one feels who must hide his love.
Then you would indeed know,
It is clear to me,
That greatly is the one who loves

Valued, and he suffers more
Than the other, who is as deceitful as possible

And who has forsaken all honor.

In my opinion, I do not wish to deceive

For any reason.

“it. .

 

 

 

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253

——Monsieur Gui, true love will always
Be honored wherever it is found!
He who has devoted his entire thought
To the joy whence comes all knowledge, suffers less.
Foolish people cannot be steadfast
So each says that he who desires waits too long.
A true lover always keeps in mind
Her beautiful face
And her sweet smile

Which are Paradise to him.
Thus he can never grieve about her

From whom he awaits honored joy.

He who lets his feelings show

Is subject to others' ill-will.

—-I ask Gilon to tell the truth,
And to say who is wrong in this discussion,
And who ought to be more sorrowful.
Say it in order to restore peace!

—-I place myself at the will of Lord Perron,
Whose face looks like a sword,
That he put an end to our quarrel
And tell the truth to the best of his ability.

XLI Sire, ne me celez mie

——Sire, do not keep from me

Which choice would please you more:

If it happened that your beloved

Commanded that you

Lie naked by her side

At night and not see her at all;

Or during the day kiss you and smile
In a beautiful meadow

And embrace her, but not have

That which is spoken of most highly?

-—Guillaume, that which you have sung about
Is great madness;
The shepherd of an abbey
Would have spoken better.
When I can have at my side
My heart, my lady, my beloved,
Whom I have desired
All my life,
I leaVe you to the banter
And chatter of the meadow.

 

 

 

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——Sire, I say that in one's youth
Must one learn about love;
But he who has not suffered its pain
Gives but a cheap imitation of love.
Little do you value Summer or flowers,
A fine body or fair welcome,
A sweet glance or a complexion

Of white and rose.
There is no abstinence in you;
One would mistake you for a prior.

——Guillaume, he who begins thus

Is led by folly,

And little does he know of love

Who does not go directly to bed.

For beneath the fine coverlets

One takes such assurance

That one frees himself from fear
And trembling;

As long as I am in the balance,

My heart will never be without fear.

 

--Sire, not for anything would I wish
To have been put to this.
If I could have the one I love,
And who would have won me over,
And gaze upon her face,
And kiss her with great joy,
And embrace her freely
To my heart's desire,
Know that if I chose the other,
I would not be a friend.

—-Guillaume, with God as my witness,
You have undertaken madness
If, when you could embrace her naked,
You do not choose Paradise.
I would never content myself
With looking at her face in a meadow
If I did not have the other.
I have chosen better,
For, if she accompanies you at your departure,
It would be with a derisive laugh.

——Sire, Amors has so overwhelmed me
That I am his, wherever I be,
And I would rely on the opinion
Of Gilon.
As to which path is correct,
And which is to be esteemed more.

 

 

 

 

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--Guillaume, you would always remain
Foolish and pensive,
And he who would advocate such a choice
Is quite a coward.
I believe that Gilon would be of such an opinion,
But I place myself at the judgment of Jehan.

XLII Rois Thiebaut, sire, en chantant responnez

 

King Thibaut, sire, answer in song:

You will love a beautiful, young, comely lady

More than anything and with a true heart,

But you will not be able to have your heart's desire
If you do not carry her in your arms

To the home of another who is loved by her,

Or if you do not bid him to come

And lie with her in your own dwelling.

 

-—Baudouin, really! you pose a bad game!

But, in order to have my lady, I will carry her

Since it is her wish,

In my arms, kissing and embracing her,

I shall never believe that, such be her wish,

--And I would swear to Saint Barnaby a hundred times--
That after such good she should want to betray me.

A true friend must either wait or die.

——In God's name, sire, you have chosen too wrongly
When you wish to take her away from the one

Whom she regards as her loyal friend.

You will never see her without chagrin

Because of having taken her from him.

He who carries another's beloved in his arms

Has a heart which is too cruel and insensitive.

I prefer to suffer than to be considered mad.

--Baudouin, he who would let another have his beloved
Has indeed lied about love.

If one were going to cut me in half,

I would never relinquish her if I were hers.

Thus, it pleases me so much to await her mercy

That I forget the cruel vexation,

And I rejoice, by faith owed to Saint Paul;

But without her the world is not worth a E23 to me.

 

 

 

 

256

--Certainly, sire, anyone who wishes to leave his beloved

At another man's house never loved with a true heart;

And anyone will wish to choose rightly about this

Must serve that which she loves and holds dear

(Even though) Everything she will do about it vexes me

I prefer to suffer from that which she will love

[I prefer to suffer] That in my dwelling she might do her will

[I prefer to suffer] That he might be taken and that I might
love in hope.

-—Baudouin, indeed! never will my enemy

Enter my house in order to possess my lady,

But I will carry my lady

Wherever she pleases and serve her without hesitation;
Never will my heart be separated from her.

If she says to me: "Fine friend, I wish to go there,"
It is a ruse; I do not believe

That she says it in order to make me grieve.

 

XLIII Sire, loéz moi a choisir

-—Sire, help me make a choice

In this 132; Which is better:

Either to feel one's beloved

And kiss and embrace her without seeing her
Or speaking to her, and without

Ever having her love again;

Or to talk to her and see her forever
Without feeling or touching her?

If it is fitting to relinquish one,

Tell me which is less joyful

And from which choice the joy is greatest.

-—Raoul, I tell you without lying

That he can have no good in him

By partaking of that which, of necessity,
Causes a lover to die;

But, while the first choice cannot last,
Sight gives more sustenance,

As does speech which expresses love.
Such a beautiful smile and such solace
Would alleviate my pain,

For I do not wish to resemble
Meremellin and his relatives.

 

 

 

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--Sire, you have chosen well in wishing
To gaze upon your beloved,

Since your fat, stuffed stomach

Would keep you from touching her;

For that reason do you prefer speaking to her,
Since you have no other means of solace.
It is always such with false witnesses
Whose appearances belie them.

But by kissing and embracing

A lady's heart becomes generous,

Loyal, and bold toward her friend.

-—Raoul, it is clear to me that a glance

Ought to comfort a friend more

Than to lie beside her at night, troubled,

And not be able to light a candle

In order to see her, and listen to her, and make merry;
One would have nothing but tears.

And if she put her hand elsewhere

When she wished to embrace you

And took hold of your staff,

You would be more dismayed about that, I assure you,
Than about having a large stomach.

-—King, you resemble a mastiff

Who takes revenge by barking.

For that reason you have bitten the staff
With which I support myself:

You have acted childishly;

For there is no darkness so great

That it could ever prevent me

From enjoying the sweetness

Of embracing my lady;

And thus I am more capable of giving up
My staff than you are your swelling.

--Raoul, I would rather end our tengon

In a courteous manner

Than to speak ill in a way which would make
The wicked and base people laugh,

And which would cause us regret;

But, in loving, it would be much better

To see and to hear than to be elsewhere,
And to laugh and talk and give sweet solace
With sweet words which touch the heart,

And to rejoice to one's fill

Rather than to grope around in the darkness.

 

 

 

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XLIV Bons rois Thiebaut, sire, conseilliez moi

 

Good king Thibaut, sire, give me some advice.

I have loved a lady for a long time

With a loyal heart and, indeed, in good faith,

But I dare not disclose my thought to her,

So greatly do I fear that she will refuse me

The love which distresses me so often.

Tell me, sire, what do true lovers do about it?

Do they all suffer such great pain,

Or do they express the pain that they have from loving?

-—Cleric, I advise and entreat you to keep still;
Do not ask why she hates you,

But serve her so well and let her know

That your heart desires her;

For in serving, much love is given.

Through disguised words and a prudent appearance
And through signs must one indicate,

That she might know the pain and the sorrow

That the true lover bears for her night and day.

——In God's name, sire, the advice you give me

Brings me death and great affliction,

For disguised words and signs,

And such appearance, you know, come from deception.
As one finds in someone who knows how to feign
Loving without feeling great pain.

But a true friend cannot hide his pain

Nor keep from expressing that which his heart recalls
Through the anguish of the suffering it undergoes.

--Cleric, I see that you wish to make haste,

And it is indeed fitting,forclericsarenotcapabheofabstinence;
But if you loved as much as you have said,

You would not reveal it for all of France;

For, when one is before one's lady,

Then come trembling and great sighs,

And the heart fails when one must open one's mouth;

He who does not fear his lady does not love,

For fear comes from great love.

—-By God, sire, little do you feel, it's clear to me,

The great pain, the sickness and torture

That night and day a true, loyal lover feels;

You don't know how Amors rules

That which is his and in his command.

I know indeed that, if you knew,

You would never keep me from saying it;

Because it's for this reason that Amors makes the lover suffer
That he might confess the truth about his pain.

 

 

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—-Cleric, I see indeed that you are so overcome

That the crown (tonsure) suits you well.

Since you are so eager to entreat her,

It's the suffering of the glands that incites you;

Such love does not come from the heart.

Tell her right away since you are in such anguish,

That either you will have her or you will soon abandon her,
For anyone can tell from your words

That you wish to direct your attention elsewhere.

s—In God's name, sire, my love comes from the heart without
deceit,

But you deceive Amors. For that reason you think

That I am also as inconstant

As you, who have stopped caring

About Amors and those who are in his power.

--Cleric, since you have waged such war against me,
And value my counsel so little,

Beg mercy, hands clasped, at her feet

And tell her all your desire;

She will believe you and it will indeed be true.

XLV Girart d'Amiens, Amours qui a pouoir

Girart d'Amiens, Amors, who has power

Over all men, inflames you and another

-—You are the more worthy one—-

With love for a lady who is above reproach.
(Choose) if you will, now, without further delay:
Either you will choose to have her with you,

But beware: she will hate you;

Or, such is the case I put to you, the other
Will have her with him and she will love you.

--King of Navarre, misfortune must befall

Any man who does not dare to choose the good,

Since it is within his pOWer to have it without doing wrong;
No friend could make a greater mistake

Than to permit, when he could forbid it,

That another have the private company of his lady;

Never would I relinquish the good,

Nor would I refuse such good fortune,

Nor would another ever partake of it, if I had my way.

 

 

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—-Girart d'Amiens, from your words one can see

That you have a foolish and tender heart

In order to conceive of such a disloyal deed,

And so, in order that you be aware of such folly, I want
You to know that a true friend is not he who engenders
Anything which might be hated or decried

By the lady by whom he would be loved;

If he will he hated for doing his own will,

At the first opportunity, he will deceive her.

--Sire, such a choice is worse than receiving
Death, or being inflicted with madness. I cannot
Understand how anything good can befall me.

How could I seek anything more painful

Than to let my lady permit

That another do with her as he pleases?

I could not be in greater despair

If she hates me. Amors will see to it

That I will be loved as soon as he sees fit.

-—Girart d'Amiens, the more I see you

Speak in such a way, the more diminished is your reasoning.
N0 many seeks to deceive his lady,

Nor does he merit that another take her from him.

If my fate decrees that she be willing

To commit such a deed, I do not wish to be burdened by it;
I prefer that someone other than myself be blamed for it.
If I choose to love, it will profit me more;

You will never be worthy of such joy.

--Sire, I cannot persist in the thought

That such a test can be turned (lit. "stretched") into good
From which the friend will fall into (such) despair,

That he dare not contest it in any way;

Wherefore never do I wish to give myself over, defeated,

For better might I not wish to enjoy enough

Of the one to whom I am totally (devoted) than that from afar
Another might come back who will take advantage of her.
Shamed be he who will permit this.

 

 

 

 

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XLVI Phelipe, je vous demant

—-Philip, I ask you

What has become of love:

In this land and elsewhere

No one seems to love.

To my great amazement

I wonder why the situation remains such,
For I have heard

Great complaints about the ladies
And knights make many of them.

--Sire, know indeed
That love fails for lack of lovers,
Joy and merit cease to exist
And tournaments decline ,
Thus they are wrong in blaming
Old women and cruel husbands;
Love is not declining

For lack of women to love,

But for lack of knights.

--Philip, I agree

That it is for lack of knights,

But that is a result of the dangers

To which ladies put them.

When knights are at the point of death,

The ladies present them with more difficulties.
They can never find

A good response
If they drive so many to despair.

--Sire, it is wrong for them to take leave of love

And to complain about it willingly.

They love ease more than

Waiting to receive comfort from Amors

They do not love valor or making merry,

And busy themselves with seizing and building houses;
It is not right:

He who wishes to love
Must make amends for everything.

—-Philip, they who depart from it because of fear
Indeed do so lightly,
Simply because the ladies welcome them
Unkindly.
A lady must draw them slowly,
In order to make them aspire more aredently.
For a lady must know

Enough about loving

To make her friend worth more.

 

 

 

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—-Sire, too hastily

Do all those who love

Throughout the whole world

Wish to receive complete joy.

For it is the ladies who must

Direct the friends at will

And make them languish

Without complaint

And without deception.

——Philip, (even) true friends
Would not have the strength.

——Sire, in truth,
Ladies make the world worthwhile.

XLVII Dame, merci! Une riens vous demant

——Lady, mercy! I ask you one thing,

Tell me in truth, may God bless you:

When you die, and I—-but I will die first——

Because after your death, I could hardly live--

What will become of Amors, thus stricken with grief,

For you have so much grace and merit, and I love you so much,
Will Amors cease to exist after our death?

--In God's name, Thibaut, to my knowledge,

Amors will not perish because of anyone's death,

Nor do I know if you are trying to deceive me,

For you are hardly thin.

When we die (God grant us both a good life!),

I believe that Amors will suffer greatly,

But the merit of loving will always come to completion.

--Lady, you must not think that I deceive you,

For I have loved you only too much.

Because of joy, I love and esteem myself more

And for this I have grown corpulent

For God never created anything as beautiful as you.
But it causes me great dismay that,

When we die, Amors will come to an end.

——Thibaut, be still! No one ought to expound

An argument which is devoid of rightness.

You say it only to soften me

On your behalf, you who have beguiled me so much.
I do not say, of course, that I hate you,

But, if it were fitting that I judge Amors,

He would be served and honored.

 

 

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263

——Lady, God grant that you judge rightly
And know the torments which make me lament,
For I know well, whatever be the judgment,
If I die, it is fitting that Amors falter
If you, lady, do not make him remain

In the background where he was,

For no one could grasp your reasoning.

--Thibaut, even if Amors makes you so distraught because of me,
Do not let it grieve you, for, ifit were fitting for me to love,
I have a heart that would not fail.

XLVIII L'autre nuit en mon dormant

 

The other night in my sleep

I was very disturbed by
A jeu-parti addressed in song

And (I was) very undecided,
When Amors appeared before me
And said to me: "What do you seek?
You are much too inconstant

And given to levity."

Then I began to tremble;
With great apprehension

I said to her: "Lady, if I make much of
My great suffering

It is because of your false seeming,

Which has so cruelly wounded me that

I wish to take leave of your entourage
By distancing myself from you."

-—He who changes his thought

Because of suffering or pain
Will never be satisfied

For very long;
There is little suffering left for you.
Indeed must one have a black heart
Who, in order to do his own will

Loses his beloved.

-—You know well how to deceive,

No one can last in this (matter);
It is not within the power

Of anyone who desires you.
For this reason I am forced to remain
Without finding any strong hope in you,
Nor can I have any worth

If it is not merited.

 

 

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264

-—Do not have such an insane heart,
But, rather, trust in me!
Whoever is in my power
Never becomes worse,
His goodness increases a hundredfold
As does his worth and largesse
You will soon receive recompense;
Put yourself under my jurisdiction!

--You have given me such a good sermon
That I will never cease
To do your will.
I place my body and my life
In your command,
In spite of those who have asked me to engage in single
combat with you,
You, to whom I have promised
To give help.

Now I beg your mercy, in God's name;
For the one who has loves so well
Humbles himself to you.

XLIX Par Dieu, sire de Champaigne et de Brie

By God, lord of Champagne and of Brie,

I am quite astonished about something;

I have noticed that you no longer sing,

And you are rarely mirthful or gay;

Tell me why you have renounced these things.
Summer is coming, and the season of blossoms,
When everyone ought to be glad and joyful;
Know that you would indeed be worthless

If Amors took leave of you so quickly.

--Philip, I have no desire to write songs,

For I am separated and estranged from Amors,

I honored and served him for such a long time,
Without ever once being favored by him;

Thus I no longer wish to be burdened by him.
Everywhere I see him in decline and failing,
Greatly has his name and esteem been lessened.

I renounce it entirely, and you should do likewise
If you do not wish to remain in folly.

 

 

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--Sire, it was wrong of you to reproach Amors in my presence,
And you give me false counsel (in telling me) to forsake him.
Thus you have served Amors badly and deceived him;

His name has not been dishonored,

For from Amors comes all honor and goodness.

He who serves him well in deed and in thought

Cannot fail or lose honor,

For, without Amors, no one is rightly praised,

And he who does nor desire it is of little value.

--Philip, Amors is mad,

No one ought to follow his will.

I know so well that he is a proven traitor

That I value him and his falseness very little.

I am so wearied from serving him

That I hate those by whom he is praised.

For that reason I beg you never to sing about it,
For you will be deceived by him

As I have been, and never receive any recompense.

——Sire, Amors is much too precious and dear,

His service and his name please me too much.

I shall serve him without retreating

With my work and my heart and by writing songs.

When it pleases him, I shall have my recompense,

For I know he is loyal and just.

Thus he is accused by the corrupt

And the disloyal who seek to reproach him,

And I find him gracious, while the disloyal considerlmmihaughty.

—-Phi1ip, Amors is false and superficial;

You may someday still have occasion to say that I am right.

When you have become acquainted with his manner.

You would not consider those who have left to be scoundrels.
I know Amors and his ways too well:

In the beginning he may be generous to you,

Then you may discover guile and deceit,

And in the end his gifts are worth nothing:

One must win her over with prayers that are only too great!

--Sire, damned be he who believes your sermons!
I dedicate myself to Amors, who summons me,
And I shall maintain my intention entirely.

--Philip, another season will yet come. '
When you have not received a good response from him
You would tell me that Amors is not true.

 

 

 

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L Robert, veez de Perron

Robert, look how wicked

Perron's heart is,

He wishes to give his daughter in marriage
To a very distant baron,

She who has such a resplendent face

That one could see one's reflection in it!

Ah, God! such an action lacks all reason!
Look at his weasel face!

She who is noble in every way

Is being taken from you.

Robert, whoever would let her be taken away
Is not worth a button.

--Sire, one can blame only you

If you let her be taken away.

The one you love so much

And from whom you have so much power
You ought not to let get away

For land or for wealth!

Indeed, it is your heart which would be considered black
When you found out the truth.

You would have neither the strength nor the power

To see her or feel her;

And know: One must keep

Such find goods near himself.

--Robert, I would rather die

If it pleased her,

Than let her depart.

I would give up my whole country.
Alas! if only one could lie

A whole night by her side!

-—Sire, may God grant that you enjoy
That which you have desired.

--Robert, I fear that I will die .
When they take her away, in spite of God's Will!

 

 

 

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LI J'aloie l'autrier errant

 

The other day, on my horse,
I was wandering
Alone, thinking about
Writing a song;
When, I heard, I know not how,
Next to a bush,
The voice of the most beautiful child
A man has ever seen;
She was no really a child
For she was about fifteen and a half;
I have never seen another
With such a gracious manner.

So I came up to her
And addressed her:
"Beautiful one, please
Tell me your name!"
And she jumped up
Holding her staff:
"If you come any closer
You will engage in combat.
Sire, leave here!
I have no care for such a friend (as you)
For I have chosen one much more handsome,
Whom I call Robecon."

 

When I saw her take a fright
To such a degree
That she dared not look at me
Or act otherwise,
I began to consider
In what way
She might love me
And change her heart's desire.
I sat down on the ground beside her.
When I looked at her beautiful face
My heart was so taken
That my desire doubled.

Then I asked her
Very kindly
If she would deign to look at me.
And act otherwise toward me.
She began to cry
And said:
"I cannot listen to you;
I don't know what you want."
I drew her toward me and said to her:

 

 

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"My beauty, in God's name, mercy!"
She laughed and said:
"Don't do it because of the people!"

I put her in the saddle in front of me
Without waiting any longer,
And rode straight away
Toward a verdant woods.
I looked out over the fields
And heard the cries
Of two shepherds in the wheat,
Who came up shouting
And raising a great cry.
I did enough, more that I say:
I left her there and went off
For I have no care for such people.

LII L'autrier par la matinee

The other day in the morning,

Between a woods and an orchard,

I found a shepherdess

Singing to raise her spirits;

And first she sang this song:

"Pain of love keeps me here."

When I came to the place where

I had heard her express herself,

I said to her without delay:

"Beautiful one, God grant you good day!"

She returned my greeting

Without delay or self-defense.

She was fresh and fair;

she pleased me wither her welcome:
"Beautiful one, I seek your love;

You would receive many riches from me."
She answered: "Knights are indeed

Too deceitful.

I love Perrin, my shepherd,

More than a rich man who lies."

"Beautiful one, do not say that;
Knights are only too valiant.

Who else knows how to have a beloved
And serve her well

Except knights and such people?

The love of a shepherd

Is hardly worth a button.

Abandon such thoughts

.biem

 

 

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269

And love me; I swear to you:
You will receive many gifts from me."

"Sire, by holy Mary,

You speak in vain.

Treacherous knights will have deceived
Many a lady.

They are false and given to evil thoughts,
And worse than Ganelon.

I am going back home,

For Perrinet, who is waiting for me,
Loves me with a loyal heart.

Quiet your noise!"

I understood that the shepherdess

Wished to escape me.

I entreated her for a long time

I was not able to receive anything from her.
I started to embrace her,

But she gave a loud cry:

"Perrinet, help! help!"

From the woods there came loud cries;

I left her without further delay,

And rode away on my horse.

When she saw me leave,
She said in response:
"Knights are too bold!“

LIII Seigneurs, sachiez: qui or ne s'en ira

Lords, be informed: anyone who will not go
To the land where God died and lived,

And will not bear the Crusade cross

Will hardly be admitted to Paradise.

Anyone who has pity and is mindful

Of the Supreme Lord, ought to seek vengeance
And deliver his land and his country.

All of the lowly, who love neither God,

Good, honor, nor esteem will remain behind;

And each says: "My wife, what will she do?

Nor would I leave my friends at any cost."

Such men have fallen into foolish concerns,

For one has no friend except he who, without hesitation,
Was placed upon the true cross for us.

 

 

 

III 15 Now the valiant lads (bacheler)
Who love God and the honor of this world,
And who rightly wish to go to God, will depart,
And the sniveling, the cowardly, will remain behind;
They are blind, I have no doubt about it.
20 Such a man never aids God during his life,
And, for so little, loses the glory of the world.

IV God let himself suffer on the cross for us
And he will tell us on the last day, when all are reunited:
"You who helped me carry my cross
25 Will go where my angels are;
There you will see me and my mother, Mary.
And those from whom I never received aid
Will all descend into the depths of Hell."

 

V Everyone thinks he will remain healthy
30 And ought never to become sick;
Thus the Enemy and sin take hold of them,
Until they have neither sense, boldness, nor power.
Gracious lord God, take such thoughts from them
And put us in your country
35 With such holiness that we may see you!

VI Sweet lady, crowned queen,
Pray for us, Virgin of good fortune!
Henceforth no evil can befall us.

LIV Dame, ensi est q'il m'en couvient aler

I Lady, since I must go away
And leave the sweet country
Where I learned to endure such sufferings,
And leave you, it is fitting that I hate myself for it.
5 God! why is there the Holy Land
Which will separate so many lovers
Who, afterward, will have no comfort from love,
Nor will they be able to remember their joy!

 

1Thibaut uses the conditional to describe the hypothetical
events of the Last Judgment scene. I have chosen the future tense
to accord with the authoritative tone of the rest of the chanson.

 

 

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271

I could not last without love,

So thoroughly is my thought devoted to it.
Nor could my heart let me renounce love, I
Thus I am there where my heart's desire is.

I have learned only too well the hard lessons of love,

For that reason I do not see how I can last

Without receiving joy from the most desired one

From whom a man ever dared to beg mercy.

When I am separated from her, I do not see

How I can have any good, solace, or joy,

For I have never done anything with as much reluctance
As leaving you: will I ever see you?

I am exceedingly sorrowful and afflicted about it.
When I remember your gracious words,

Again and again will I repent

Of ever having taken up this path.

Good lord God, I turn to you;

For you I leave that which I loved so much

The reward for it ought to be decked with flowers
Since for you I lose both my heart and my joy.

I am ready and armed to serve you;

I render myself to you, good Father of Jesus Christ!
I could never have such a good lord:

He who serves you cannot be betrayed.

It is indeed fitting that my heart be bothjoyfulandsorrowful:
Sorrowful because I am leaving my lady,

And joyful because I am desirous

Of serving God, who is my body and soul.

This love is fine (true) and powerful;

By its path come the most learned;

It is the ruby, the emerald, and the gem

Which cures all from old, foul—smelling sins.

Lady of the heavens, great, powerful queen,

I am greatly in need of succor!

May I be inflamed with love for you!

When I lose my lady, by a lady may I be aided!

 

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LV Au tens plain de felonnie

During a time full of wickedness,
Envy and deceit,
Wrongs and outrage,
Without good or courtesy,
5 And when our barons
Make the whole world grow worse;
When I see excommunicated ‘
Those who offer the most sense,
I wish to sing a song.

10 The kingdom of Syria
Cries out to us in a loud voice
That we repent
—-For God's sake!--for not going there:
In not going we commit great evil.

15 God loves fine, upright hearts;

From such men does he wish to receive aid;

They will exalt his name
And win back his house.

I still prefer, above all,
To remain in the Holy Land,
Than to go, a poor coward,
To a place where I would have no solace.
Philip, one must win
Paradise by having discomfort,

25 Or you will never have, indeed,
The well-being, pastimes, or the laughter
To which you had become accustomed.

Amors has run in search of prey
And thus takes me, bound
30 Into the hostel from which, indeed,
I would never seek issue
If it were up to me.
Lady, heiress of Beauty,
I want you to know:
35 I will never leave this prison alive;
Thus will I die a loyal friend.

Lady, it is fitting that I remain;
I never wish to part from you.
I never want to stop
40 Loving and serving you;
The love which assaults me so often
Is well worth death.
I await your mercy always,
For no good can come to me
45 Unless it is through your pleasure.

__. .. IT-‘u—o'i" -.'

 

 

 

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Song, go and tell Lorent for me

That he guard himself from undertaking
Great folly
Which false lying would cause in him.

LVI Deus est ensi conme 1i pellicanz

 

God is like the pelican

Who makes his nest in the highest tree,

And the wicked bird, who is so vile,

Comes from below and kills his offspring;

The father returns, distressed and grieving,

And kills himself with his beak; his sorrowful blood
Immediately revives the fledgelings.

God acted likewise through his passion:

With his noble blood he bought back his children
From the Devil who was too powerful.

Recompense is difficult and slow in coming,

For no longer does anyone have goodness, justice, or pity;
Pride and deceit have the upper hand,

As well as wickedness, treachery, and debauchery.

Our state is indeed in great peril;

One must not take the example of those

Who love disputes and battles so much

--Namely the clerics who have abandoned writing sermons
In order to wage war and kill people—-

Never has such a man believed in God.

Our head causes great pain in all our members,

And it is indeed fitting that we complain to God about it;

He accuses our barons of great sins

Which he weighs upon them when any one of them wishes to
be of worth;

And people find fault with one another

For they know well how to lie and deceive;

They bring misfortune upon one another;

And whoever seeks evil must not fail to receive evil.

He who ardently expels small evils

Will not harbor great evil in his heart.

 

 

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274

We should learn from the story

0 the battle of the two dragons

As it is found in the book of the Bretons;
In this story the castle fell to the ground.
It is this world which will be overthrown
If God does not put an end to the battle.
One should call upon the powers of Merlin
To divine what the outcome of it would be.
Now Antichrist is coming, it is evident,
Whose bludgeons the Enemy controls.

I—h

Do you know who the evil birds are

Who murder God and his children?

The papelards, whose name is appropriate.

They are indeed cruel, foul—smelling, and evil;

By means of their wicked words

They put to death the simple people, God's children.
The papelards make the world tremble;

By God the Father, may evil befall them:

They have taken away joy, solace, and peace,

And they will carry the burden of it into Hell.

God grant that we might serve him

And the Lady whom one must not forget;

May he always protect us

From the evil birds with venom in their beaks!

LVII Du tres douz non a la Virge Marie

I will fully explain to you the five letters

Of the most gracious name of the Virgin Mary.

The first is M, which signifies

That through her, souls (ames) are released from torment;
For through her, God came among men,

Suffered the passion for us,

And freed us from the black prison.

This M_is his mother and his amie.

A comes next. It is fitting that I tell you
That in the alphabet it comes first;

And, in all seriousness, one should

First greet with a sweet 522

The Lady who, in her find noble body

Bore the King from whom we await salvation.
First came A, and likewise the first man [Adam]
That our law might be made and established.

___1

 

 

 

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Then comes 3; it is not a lie

That the letter §_is greatly prized,

For we see it each day without fail

When the priest displays it in his chapel;
It is the body of God who will judge us all
That the Lady bore in her body.

Not let us pray that when death comes,

We merit pity more than justice.

I_has an upright, noble, and gracious form.

Such was the body, where there is nothing but perfection,

Of the Lady who takes great pains for us,

Beautiful, upright, and noble, without stain and without sin.
Because of her gentle heart and in order to destroy Hell,
God came through her when she gave birth.

She was beautiful and noble, and nobly gave birth;

She resembles God in caring for us.

 

A is a lament, you know without doubt

That when one says a, one is in great pain;
And we must lament without delay,

To the Lady who seeks only

That the sinner be brought to justice.

She has such a sweet, noble, and pure heart
That he who entreats her with a sincere heart
Will not fail to receive forgiveness.

Now let us beg mercy of her in her goodness
With the sweet greeting which begins Ave
Maria! God keep us from misfortune!

LVIII Mauvés arbres ne puet florir

The bad tree cannot blossom,

And so it dries up and withers;

The man who does not love, indeed,
Bears no fruit and dies.

Flower and wholesome fruit

Are born of him in whom love is born,
And this fruit is so precious

That no one could buy it;

It alleviates all sufferings.

It is called the Fruit of Nature;
And I have explained its name to you.

 

 

 

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276

No one can taste of this fruit

Unless God has prepared him.

He who gives his heart and body and innermost desire
To the love and service of God

Gathers the fruit first,

And God gives him much aid.

Through fruit came the first tears

When Eve made Adam sin;

But he who wishes to eat of the good fruit
Loves God, his Mother, and his name,

And will gather the fruit in season.

Lords, I have spoken to you about the tree
Of Nature, whence comes love;

I have told you about the ripe fruit
Gathered by those who cling to God;
But I remember again the green fruit
Which will never ripen in me:

It is the_fruit by which Adam sinned.
My orchard is full of this fruit:
Since the day I first saw my lady
This love filled my heart and my body,
And never will it leave me.

I know well that I shall never taste of this fruit
Which I have gathered; thus it happens to me
That I am like a child

Who hangs upon a tree,

Or comes and goes around it

Without ever climbing on it;

Thus my heart continues its foolish path.

My desire is indeed great,

For I hold my faults dear;

I am as pure as gold

Toward her who is all my treasure.

God, if I could gather

The ripe fruit of loving you,

Just as you have made me taste
Earthly love and compare it,

Then I could take my fill

And come to repentance.

Through your sweet commandment

You have given me the best (lady) to love:
The precious flower

Through whom you came into this world
And by whom the Devil is confounded.

 

 

 

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277

Mother of God, through your sweetness

You give me a taste of the good fruit,

For I think I have tasted more of the other
Than any man who has ever lived!

Philip, renounce your error!

I see that you are a good singer.
Sing, and we will proclaim on high
The song, Te Deum laudamus.

LXI De chanter ne me puis tenir

I cannot keep from singing
About the most beautiful, celestial lady
From whom no one receives shame or misfortune
For having served;
For the heavenly King
Who deigned to come through her
Would never let anyone who serves her
Not be saved.

 

When God, who is neither changeable nor false,
Wishes to obey her,
We indeed ought to be steadfast,
Lady, natural queen!
You are worthy of all
Who will pay homage to you;
You are brighter
Than the morning star.

Your beauty which is so resplendent
Illumines the whole world.
Through you, God came among men
On earth to suffer death
And to take us from the Enemy,
And free us from torment.
Through you we are avenged,
And through you we are saved.

David first proclaimed
That you would be born of his lineage
When he spoke aloud
With the voice of the Holy Spirit.
You are scarcely in bloom
And yet have such a powerful flower;
God, who never lies
And is omnipotent.

 

 

 

VI

II

III

35

4O

10

15

20

25

278

Lady, full of great goodness,
Courtesy, and compassion,
Through you the entire world is
Illumined, even the infidels;
When they return to the (right) path
And believe that God was born,
They will be saved, you know it well.
Lady, have pity on us!

Sweet lady, I beg mercy

Of you, that you might keep me

From damnation

And from being lost through my sins!

LX De grant travail et de petit esploit

I see the world burdened and encumbered

With great hardship and little action;

So full are we of wickedness

That no one thinks of doing what he ought;

We have affirmed the Devil so much

That everyone strains and makes efforts to serve him;
And we have turned our backs to God

Who suffered such cruel wounds for us:

He who does not fear death is indeed bold.

God, who is all—knowing, all—powerful and sees all,
Would have dealt us a deadly sword—blow

If the Lady full of goodness

Who is beside him had not prayed for us.

Her very gracious, delicate words

Calm the wrath of the great Lord.

He who tries any other love is exceedingly foolish,
For in this love there is neither ruse nor falseness,
And in the other there is neither mercy nor generosity.

The mouse gathers nuts and grain

To protect its body against winter,

And we, cowards, seek to gather nothing
That might save us when we die;

We seek only foul-smelling Hell.

Now consider that a wild beast

Provides for hardship long in advance,
And yet we have neither sense nor wisdom;
It is clear to me that we are indeed mad.

 

 

IV

VI

30

35

40

45

10

15

20

 

279

In order to trap us, the Devil has set

Four hooks baited with torment;

First he casts Covetousness,

And then Pride, in order to fill his huge net;
Debauchery pulls the boat;

wickedness steers and guides their course.
Thus fishing, they reach the shore.

May God keep us by his commandment,

In whose sacred fount we pay homage.

One ought to esteem the valiant

Wherever they are, and serve and love them,
But we can hardly be found

For we are mixed in with the counterfeit coins
That one cannot toss into the balance,

So they are thrown in without coins or scales;
Evil and sin end and begin with them.

False traitors! well ought you remember

That God will wreak cruel vengeance on you!

Song, go to the Lady
Who increases all goods. If she wishes to hear you,
Never will anyone have been more fortunate.

LXI Conmencerai

I shall begin

To compose a lai

About the best (lady).

I am in great dismay

For I have

Caused her great suffering
For which my melodies turn to tears.
Sweet Virgin Mother,
If you delay
In pleading with the supreme Lord,
I indeed ought to have great fear
Of the Devil, the wicked one,
Who wants to lead us all

Into the black prison
From which there is no escape;
And I merit the penalty, sweet Lady,
Of losing body and soul

If you do not help me.

Dear God,
Have mercy on my vile sins!
Where will mercy be found

 

25

30

35

4O

45

280

If you refuse to grant it,
Lady of great worth?
Lord, forget justice
And loosen the cord of your bow (of justice)
So that mercy will come
To help us!
We do need justice;
When one is more powerful than everyone,
One must have mercy
On his soldiers.
Gracious, sweet Lord, I beg you
Not to forget me!
If pity does not overcome vengeance,
We will without doubt
Be too badly treated.
Lady full of goodness,
May your sweet, gracious words
Not be forgotten!
Pray for us!
We will never receive succour
If it is not from you,
I know it truly.
I leave it thus;
God grant that we have
True succour without delay!

 

 

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

 

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