; llflill1|1lnzllgljlflllllLHlfllfl mu 11w (EMW «a; H1! \ ('9'- Q :1 Fix. ABSTRACT RUTEBEUF, PERFORMER“ POET By Linda Davidoff Palmer Rutebeuf, as a iongleur, wrote with performance in view, intending either to execute the material himself or have others execute it. Since dramatic elements are inherent in performance, these elements are defined and distinguished in this study of the works of Rutebeuf. The research is based on the poet's complete works as they appear in the definitive scholarly edition of Faral and Bastin, Second Edition, 1969. The poet, as a iongleur in addition to entertainer, becomes a combination of news commentator, editorialist and publicist. It is in the light of these dual roles that his poetry is examined. The _g_e_n_rgof the iongleur is established by the term slit, whose essentially dramatic aspect is demonstrated. A consideration of the esprits which dominated medieval literature z-l'esprit épique, courtois, gaulois, moralisant, polémique_situates the poet's work with respect to their genres and concludes the Introduction. Chapter One seeks to define "dramatic elements" and to establish a structure and method to be applied to the study of the particular works. The term "dramatic" is used to indicate that which has aspects usually associated with performance, that which causes to stand out in relief, Linda Davidoff Palmer to lend a living dimension to, to portray instead of merely to state. Acce tin Aristotle's theor of mimesis lus harmon rh thm, the attem tis P 9 Y j Y Y P made to establish parallels rather than to trace direct descent. If mimesis and rhythm are basic human needs, then dramatization, wherever it develops or at whatever period it occurs, will contain common aspects. Chapter One establishes the following structure of dramatic elements and their definition: dramatic form, dramatic interest, dramatic tone, dramatic genre, dramatic action, dramatic devices, dramatic language. Chapter Two deals with the poems of serious intent, which are tied to the function of news commentator-editorialist—publicist. Appendix "A" lists the poems of serious intent: 12 polemics, 12 crusade poems, 5 religious, 6 allegories, one allegory fable and one monologue, wherein Rutebeuf recounts in contemporary terms, the admonitions of Aristotle to Alexander, Chapter Three deals with poems of comic intent, tied to the function of the entertainer, as listed in Appendix "B". These poems are divided into three groups: the first as "Poems of Individual Characterization"; the second as "Fabliaux" althou h the inclusion of Frere Denise seems uestionable in I 9 Cl this category; and the third consisting of one tengon, probably a burlesque of the Provengal form. Chapter Four deals with the avowedly dramatic literature of which there are three examples. First, the dramatic monologue le Dit de l'Herberie, which Ham has called "The Rutebeuf Guide For Medieval Salescraft. " Second, the poéme dialogué Le Sacristan et la Femme au Chevalier, Linda Davidoff Palmer which deals with the miracle of the Virgin, but is not a "miracle" play. And last, the only drama we have of Rutebeuf, Le Miracle de ThéOphile. This drama is established in the theatrical tradition of the Middle Ages, being considered serious in tone—wintent and dramatic action, rich in language and in potential spectacle. It is shown that the drama was consonant with the prevailing convention of its time. While there are tragic elements to be discerned in the play, its goal-"the exaltation of God— was the antithesis of humanistic Greek tragedy. The Miracle provides the richest material for our study and is thus given an in-depth treatment in this final chapter. The popular genres of Rutebeuf's day are represented in his serious poetic expression-.allegory, sermon, polemic, hagiography— and in his poems of comic intent, as well as in his dramatic literature. In all these, he conducts his poetry with an ear for the felicitous cadence, a virtuosity of rhyme, a versatility of image, a passionate intensity, 0 trenchant wit, a "iustesse d'obserVation", a sense of mission and self worth, and the ability to attract, to hold, and to seduce an audience. RUTEBEUF, PERFORMER-POET Linda Davidoff Palmer A THESIS Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSO PHY Department of Romance Languages 1971 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Of the many who helped so generously and whom I thank en masse, I surely must mention first the late Dr. Charles R. Blend, then Chairman of the French Department at Michigan State University, who smoothed the way for a traveler from 100 miles away and who made it possible for me to avoid the necessity of taking a leave from my teaching. His greatest favor, however, was in appointing Dr. Ann Harrison as the Chairman of my Committee. I am deeply grateful for her inspiring guidance and counsel, and her outstanding scholarship in things medieval, which have made the task a delight. The members of the Committee have all been helpful and kind, most especially Dr. Laurence M. Porter, whose advice during the writing of the manuscript was invaluable. At home, Hope College, Chancellor Vanderlugt, Dean Rider and Dr. Weller, Chairman of the Department of Foreign Languages, eased many an uphill pull. My very special thanks go to Diane DeJonge, on the staff of Hope's Van Zoeren Library, who repeatedly brought from the far reaches of Academe the texts I had given up finding at all. My loving appreciation goes to the "Grenoblois", those eight students who came back from France so inspired by their study abroad; especially that unique French Prayer Group. To Richard Pender, who spent many hours bringing ii together the Biblieraphy, to Holly Nelmes, who rescued my classes in time of need, and to my husband, Frank, I give my loving thanks. TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER INTRODUCTION Introducing Rutebeuf, 13th Century Jongleur Evaluation of Rutebeuf by Others A Modern Evaluation The Nature of the "Dit" Breakdown of "Dits" in Manuscript A The Performer-Poet DEFINITION OF CRITERIA PIay— Mimesis —Aristotle's Elements Dramatic Form Dramatic Intent Dramatic Tone Dramatic Genre Dramatic Action Dramatic Devices Dramatic Language POEMS OF SERIOUS lNTENT--CRUSADE AND POLEMIC Thirteenth Century Audiences Crusade Poems-t Themes Crusade Poems- Implementation Polemic Poems PAGE 24 28 3O 32 33 38 38 4] 43 48 49 57 69 CHAPTER IV. VI. POEMS OF SERIOUS lNTENT--SERMON OR MORALIZING Themes Implementation POEMS OF SERIOUS INTENT-—-MAR|AN THEMES The Cult of the Virgin Three Marian Poems Ave Marie, C'est de Notre Dame, Sainte Marie 'I'Egyptienne Summary of Poems of Serious Intent Grammatical Table of Audience Awareness POEMS OF COMIC INTENT Personal Lyrics Tercet Coué Monologues Octosyllabic-Strophic Monologues The Fabliaux Tengone-Invective Summary of Poems of Comic Intent Grammatical Table of Incidence, Person, Number, Imperatives, etc. POEMS OF AVOWEDLY DRAMATIC INTENT Dit de l'Herberie Sacristain etla Hemme du Chevalier Miracle de ThéOphile Dramatic Devices Summary of Poems of Avowedly Dramatic Intent CONCLUSION PAGE 98 98 I 00 I34 134 136 160 165 167 168 170 182 196 214 217 220 222 223 229 243 281 287 289 CHAPTER PAGE BIBLIOGRAPHY 292 APPENDIX A: Poems of Serious Intent 307 APPENDIX 8: Observations on the tercet coué 319 APPENDIX C: Poems of Comic Intent 322 NOTES 323 vi .9. :5. I ”a? d;‘ v}: '.l J INTRODUCTION Rutebeuf, thirteenth century iongleur, represents a true critical challenge. No reference is made to him by his contemporaries, no archives attest to his existence, shed light on his birth, baptism, marriage or death. Yet there are 56 1 poems attributed to him, in authenticated manuscripts, 2 and the enigma of the man who wrote them remains to pique the interest of modern medievalists. Since the mid-nineteenth century, when Achille Jubinal brought out the first complete edition of Rutebeuf's works, the portrait of the poet has undergone considerable change. Critics in the 19th and early 20th centuries were inclined to view him as a precursor of Villon,3 to class him as a one-eyed, acid-tongued lyric poet, plagued by poverty and a miserable marriage, with a proclivity for losing at dice and toping at the tavern, who, faced with death, repented and 'Les neuf ioies Nostre Dame and La vie du monde being of questionable attribution reduces the number to—the 54 on which this study is based. 2Edmond Faral and Julia Bastin, Oeuvres complétes (2 vols.; Paris: A 8. J Picard et Cie, 1969) I, pp. 11-31. All Rut—ebeuf texts cited in this study are taken from this edition, hereinafter referred to as F88, quotations showing only volume and page numbers. 3To cite one of many, Gustave Cohen in Anthologie de la Littérature Frangaise du Moyen Age, p. 105: ". . .annonce Franqois Vifion par le Iyrisme, El spontanéité, la satire et la foi, comme maintes personnages de I'Ancien Testament annoncent Ie Nouveau." a‘. 'u. fig, '5 -,. ‘1." IOU‘ 1N. “ u I n e ' l :h , J '1! 2 repudiated his evil ways.4 Edward Billings Ham was among the first to point out that these so-called "personal" poems, "seeking merely to intrigue and bemuse. . .", were well within the iongleresque tradition and should not be confused with auto- biography.5 He further ventured the unpopular opinion that Rutebeuf "may have been as many as three or four separate individuals"; that the "versifier-polemist" and his influence were perhaps "little more than a minor statistic in the story of ideas"; and that he was "rarely--if ever--more than a half-hearted believer in the usefulness of late-thirteenth-century Holy Land activity." What is more, he flung a challenge: ". . .should Rutebeuf scholarship relax under the restful spell of repetitions which have been multiplying for more than a hundred years" (p. 227) ? Happily, this challenge had a salutary effect on Rutebeuf criticism in the last decade. While, almost ten years later, Nancy Regalado accepts Ham's stand on the "Poetic l" and agrees that Rutebeuf, writing for pay, did not express personal con- 6 victions but reflected the views of his sponsors, it is interesting to note that French criticism in the interim looks at the poet with a different eye. 4 It should be noted, however, that Bédier saw him more truly: "Rutebeuf a atteint Ie plus haut sommet du génie tel qu'on pot I'envisager au Xllle siecle. C'était un frai temperament de poete, un coeur tres haut, tres généreux. Il s'est passionné pour des causes réellement papulaires, pour des idées qui grappaient, troublaient alors les esprits. II avait bien cette ame des poetes qui sont en communion avec leur temps. . ."--Joseph Bédier, Les Fabliaux.( Paris; 1925), p. 409. 5 Edwin B. Ham, " Pauper and Polemist", Romance Philology, XI, No. 3 (1958), 226-239. 6Nancy F. Regalado, Poetic Patterns in Rutebeuf (University Microfilm edition, 1966) p. v. .,.. u" e - ch .ue bl . D :' QI- ' u t. n v I I. . A‘ ,, U \-~’ _ . . p. '4, U a n .. ‘v. «n t (In ‘ 3 At about the same time that Ham was debunking Bédier and Faral, Monsignor L.-G. Pesce wrote his " Portrait de Rutebeuf", painstakingly annotated, in which the poet emerges as a believable human being, with strengths and weak- nesses.7 Tracing him from "le iongleur a l'esprit ieune et vigoureux" who earned a reputation for himself as a talented performer, to the "trouvere engagé", with a sense of mission, who decried the changing values in a century that was to see the last crusade and the passing of chivalry, and finally to the old man, "doué d'un oeil plus indulgent", resigned, but still holding fast to his idealism and his renown as a poet, the Monsignor sees him as a "figure riche et 'attachante' ", but not enigmatic (p. 91). Approximately two years later, Faral and Bastin published their remarkable edition of Rutebeuf's complete works, minutely researched and historically docu- mented, which is doubtless an important factor in the increased scholarly interest which has manifested itself in Rutebeuf within the last ten years (see p. 1 n 2 above). They consecrate an entire chapter to the author, dealing fully with his name, his origin, his training and literary knowledge, his social condition, his ideas and tendencies, the aspects of his talent, and his literary influence (1, pp. 32-64). Their evaluation of the poet coincides in many respects with that of Monsignor Pesce, and takes an opposite view from Ham, maintaining that Rutebeuf "a pu n'obéir qu'a ses convictions personnelles, et la constance de son attitude. . .comme de beaux mouvements d'éloquence. . .semblent etre venus de son coeur" (I, p. 46). 7L.-G. Pesce, "Le portrait de Rutebeuf", Revue de I'Université d'Ottawa, XXVIII, No. 1 (1958), 55-118. I. 'J " .q. '- r... '- 4 In 1963, Arié Serper affirms the poet's religious zeal and, Ham to the con- trary, states "Rutebeuf preche la Croisade, parce qu'il croit que c'est une entre— prise sacrée, a laquelle aucun chrétien ne doit refuser son concours."8 Still, in 1966, Germaine Lafeuille asks again, "Qui est donc Ie vrai Rutebeuf, l'homme de la priere 6 Notre Dame ou l'apre adversaire des Jacobins, le 'iournaliste', 'écho sonore' de l'actualité la plus brOIante de son temps, familier des barons, ou le confrere des Ribauds de Grieve?"9 In answering, she inclines towards the Bédier- Pesce-Faral evaluation, citing Rutebeuf as a man of the people and an idealist (p. 71), calling him "un grand poete frangais", who needed "de grands suiets. . . ou des personnes. . .sont en ieu en un conflit presque manichéen" (pp. 46-47). In her view, then, he would seem to be more than a mere versifier. Omer Jodogne, in 1969, holds with Serper that "La sincérité des sentiments religieux de Rutebeuf ne fait aucun doute. " While Jodogne admits that the poet composed to please his "employers", he insists that "On ne peut pas en conclure que Rutebeuf n'a exprimé que des sentiments de complaisance. . ."10 Further, he would seem to reiect Ham's stand on the "personal" aspects of the author's poetry. "Rutebeuf est pauvre et ses poésies dites personnelles, meme si elles relevent d'un 8Arié Serper, " La foi profonde de Rutebeuf", Revue de l'Université d'Ottawa, XXXIII, No. 3 (1963), 338. Cf. also Faral, Les Jongleurs en France au Moyen Age, p. 163: "Rutebeuf a cru que la Croisade était une entreprise sainte, a laquelle nul chrétien ne devait refuser son concours." 9Germaine Lafeuille, Rutebeuf (Paris: P. Seghers, 1966) p. 36. IOOmer Jodogne, "L'anticléricalisme de Rutebeuf", Les Lettres Romanes, v. 23 (1969), 219-20. 5 genre littéraire qu'on appeIIe la poésie iongleresque, ne manquent pas de I'accent profond d'une indigence aprement ressentie" (p. 224). Thus Ham's gadfly tactics goaded recent French criticism to delve more deeply into the problem of Rutebeuf. The picture that emerges lies somewhere between the romantically lyric extreme of Cohen and Ham's somewhat too light dis- missal of the poet as a "versifier" and a "minor statistic". That his voice and his pen were for hire, all are agreed. That helwas of low birth, his name a sobriquet, seems likely. 11 A strong case might also be made for him as a "clerc". He ap- peared to know a scholar's life at firsthand: 41 Diex '. ia n'est il si bone vie, Qui de bien faire avroit envie Com eIe est de droit escolier '. 44 II ont plus poinne que colier Par que il vuellent bien aprendre; (1, p. 375). And also from the Dit de l'Université de Paris: 14 Li filz d'un povre pa't'sant Vanrra a Paris por apanre ; 21 Quant il est a Paris venuz Por faire a quoi il est tenuz Et por mener honeste vie, 27 Par chacune rue regarde Ou voie la bele musarde ; Portout regarde, partout muze ; Ses argenz faut et sa robe uze : Or est tout au recoumancier. (1, pp. 374-75). He was undeniably sympathetic towards University battles with the Mendicant Friars and the Pope, witness his defense of Guillaume de Saint-Amour and the Discorde de "In this connection, see F88, 1, pp. 34 and 43. Also, Monsignor Pesce, p. 95, n 31 and 37, and Jodogne, p. 219. 4". ‘ It» .‘r.’ _,I 6 l'Université et des Jacobins. Ostensibly, he could read Latin.12 In addition, as Suzanne Nash ably points out, he had an explicit knowledge of Catholic ritual, ". . . characterized by elements taken frim the Church service; prayer, incantation, litany, Scripture."'3 For him to have such knowledge without training, would pre- suppose a prodigious aural memory which, while it would be compatible with the iongleur, who often knew entire chansons de gestes by heart, would hardly explain the trouvere's frequent recourse to Latin sources. Further, his works, as I shall show, demonstrate an acquaintance with the principles of rhetoric taught in the trivium. 14 It is certain that, for the greatest part of his life, he was a Paris resident, although some critics believe he came originally from Champagne (see F88, I, p. 35). Recent criticism is in accord with Ham that the so-called personal details in his poetry must be taken cum grano salis. The point at which authorities differ seems to be the degree of veracity they are willing to allow. Monsignor Pesce's theory seems eminently plausible to me. A young man 15 with a good education and no trade, unable to find a place in the Church or the University, must use what wits he had .to earn his way, as did the vagantes and the ”To cite one of many instances, the Dit d'Aristote, F88, I, p. 560, which refers to a passage in Gautier de Chatillon's Latin Alexandréide, of which Faral says, " . . . iI en a traduit certaines parties avec fidélité." 13Suzanne Nash, "Rutebeuf's Contribution to the Saint Mary the Egyptian Legend", The French Review, XLIV, No. 4 (1971), 697. '4See Regalado, Poetic Patterns , pp. iii-iv; also "Two Poets of the Medieval City", in Yale French Studies, tome 32 (1964), 12-21. ' '5We have Rutebeuf's own words to support this. In Le Mariage: "Je ne sui pas ouvriers des mains" (I, p. 550, v. 98; in Bataille des vices contre les vertus: "Quar autre ouvraingne ne sai fere" (I, p. 306, v. 11); and again in tere CompTainte de Constantinople: "Que ne sai autre Iaborage" (I, p. 424, v. 5). 7 Goliards. Unlike them, Rutebeuf would write in the vernacular, turning to account as a iongleur his talent for rhyme, his ready wit, his keen sense of observation. The word "iongleur" derives from the Latin ioculator which, Chambers tells us, appeared in the 8th century to distinguish minstrels of the soap and mimus variety. '6 It came into general use in the 12th century and covered a multitude of métiers. It referred equally to the tumbler, the acrobat, the animal act, the iuggler, the magician, the impersonator, the singer, the dancer, and the comedian with his "patter". It also applied to the choreographer (if I may so dignify the maftre de danse who led the caroles), the songwriter, the scriptwriter, and in the 13th century took on a new dimension that of news commentator or publicist. According to Faral, the iongleur reached his apogee in the 13th century only to decline and disappear in the 14th, with the growth of the corporations and confréries.I Jongleur and trouvere, then, were one and the same in the 13th century, as FaraI indicates: “E. K. Chambers, The Medieval Stage, (2 vols., Oxford: 1903), 231. Similarly, he adds, the word i_c_>_c_abecame "ieu", the equivalent of the classical and medieval Latin ludus. '7" Le type de I'ancien iongleur, qui était apte a toutes sortes d'exercices, disparaissait. L'industrie complexe qui avait fleuri au XIIe et XIIIe siecles, se résolvait en une série de Spécialités distinctes et isolées. On ne rangeait plus dans une classe unique les chanteurs, les acteurs, les montreurs et les poetes. . . C'est bien a partir de ce moment qu'il y a lieu d'établir une hiérarchie entre les differentes sortes de iongleurs. . .c'est dans les cours, au milieu d'un monde choisi, que fleurit Ia Iittérature. Et ainsi, la condition des auteurs change; ils deviennent. . .des 'homme de Iettres' au sens moderne du mot."--Fara|, Les Jongleurs en France au moyen age, pp. 224-225. — :6.’ I I‘ ‘s ' \I . s-_ a u u 8 Le trouveur, c'est simplement le iongleur considéré comme auteur. . . Tout trouveur qui faisait métier de poésie était iongleur, et tout iongleur qui composait était trouveur. C'est pourquoi il est factice et purement théorique de vouloir distinguer entre les iongleurs et les trouveurs et d'en faire deux classes séparées par les aptitudes et les fonctions. Since it is our practice today to separate these functions, accounting the iongleur a performer and the trouvere a writer, I shall use the hyphenated form "performer- poet" to designate the dual role, although I do not believe the two functions were separated in Rutebeuf's mind, but that he wrote with performance very much in view. Another term often confused in this period-~"mencstral"--bears definition here. Originally used to designate court officials in general, up until the last third of the 12th century, menestral wasrestricted to iongleurs living in the service of a lord or baron. By the 13th century, however, it had come to be used indis- . . . ‘9 crtmlmtely for all longleurs (p. 106),. so that, for our purpose, the terms iongleur and menestral are interchangeable and indeed Rutebeuf himself used them in this way. We can assume that Rutebeuf was a first-rate performer, who knew how to interest, delight and manipulate his audience. First, there is the witness of his name. Most of the writers of the Middle Ages were designated by a praenomen, 18Les Jongleurs, p. 79. Note the use of trouveur, which Faral prefers over the nominative because "il est naturel, reprenant un vieux mot, de le re- prendre sous la forme complement" (p. 73, n 1). ”See also Chambers: "A street in Paris known at the end of the 13th century as the 'rue aus Jugléeurs' came later to be known as the 'rue des ménétriers'. This is significant of a new tendancy in nomenclature which appears with the growth during the 14th century of the household entertainers at the expense of their unattached brethren of the road'.‘ (p. 231, n 29). 9 followed by a surname of some sort indicating places of origin or residence as, for example, Adam de la Halle, Baudoin de Condé, Henri de Laon. A surname alone was usually reserved for champions, as in the case of the fabliaux writers "Courtebarbe" or "Brisebarre" (F88, l, p. 34).20 Then there was Adenet, dubbed "Ie roi" in the same sense that Ronsard was called "Prince des poétes", an honor reserved for pre-eminence or distinction. Rutebeuf's renown is further reflected in the fact that his poems appear in thirteen different manuscripts, the most important of which, A and C, are in 13th century orthography, as are also F and S. Manuscript H has been identified as end of 13th or first third of 14th, whereas I, T and 8 date, in part, from the 13th, and D, R and G have been authenticated as 14th. Manuscript P appears to have been written in the 15th century, but contains only 13th century pieces, evidently copied from an earlier manuscript. In the thirty or forty-odd yearsz' during which Rutebeuf followed his "métier", obliged as he was to earn his keep, surely he may be assumed to have written more than the 56 its attributed to him. Yet the sur- vival of even that large a number, mainly in 13th century orthography, bears wit- ness to his popularity, particularly when we compare this output with the 21 changons extant of his contemporary, Colin Muset. 20See also Chambers, vol. 2, p. 47, where he Speaks of "iesting stage names", such as " Guillaume sanz maniere", "Reginaldus le menteur","Rongefoie", "Brise-Pot", etc. 2lHis dates are approximate--1248 at the earliest, 1290 at the latest. Although F88 indicate his death as occurring somewhere between 1270 and 1280, Monsignor Pesce, basing himself on the line in the Mort de Rutebeuf, "por ce siecle qui se départ,", ventures the hypothesis that it was writtenEout 1290 (p. 97, n 53). 10 None of the five fabliaux which have come down to us can be dated, 22 nor can the dramatic monologue, Dit de l'Herberie. It is not inconceivable that with these, and other similar recitations destined to demonstrate his virtuosity as a per- former, Rutebeuf earned his following and his sobriquet, making the rounds of fairs, taverns, and weddings. Having established his reputation as a performer-poet who had won the ear and the approbation of a great many Parisians, he would be ready for the next rung of the ladder--peddling this influence in high places. Now his talents would be solicited by well-to-do bourgeois and nony-born patrons, such as Alphonse, comte de Poitiers, brother of Louis IX, and Charles d'Aniou (from whom he presumably learned how to gamble at griesche.) A whole new career was opened to him, that of news commentator-editorialist-publicist, where writing was primary, performance secondary.23 That this was the role he preferred may be demonstrated by a consideration of the subject matter of the extant El_i_t_s_. Thirty-six of the 54 authenticated poems deal with the "grand suiets" referred to by Lafeuille--hagiography, marian prayers, polemics against the Mendicant Orders, the Pope, the King, moralizing allegories, and Crusade poems. These are the themes that prompt Bédier, Monsignor Pesce, Faral, JodOQne and Lafeuille to consider Rutebeuf a trouvere "engagé" and seem 22Although Charlot le Juif may be said to have been written sometime before 1270, it is impossible to determine how much before that date it was composed. In this connection, Arie Serper says, "11 faut croire que Rutebeuf était fier de son état de poete qui faisait de Iui un travailleur intellectuel et non manuel . . . " Rutebeuf poete satirique, (Paris: Klincksieck, 1969), pp. 49-50. .o-< . i x J “a f e - ..u M!\ 11 quite properly to belong to the realm of commentator-publicist. It is worth noting in this connection that Huizinga, tracing the poet from the "primordial composite" of the ancient vates--or, "the possessed, the God-smitten, the raving one"--sees him as having a social and liturgical rather than just aesthetic function. Splitting him up into the various categories of prophet, priest, soothsayer, philosopher, orator, and many others, he goes on to say, "We can follow the primitive vgtis. . . and find him, without straining our imaginations too much, in the 'iongleur' of the feudal West. . . "24 Significantly, Rutebeuf wrote no courtly love lyrics. Of the remaining 18 its, five are fabliaux, one is a dramatic monologue, one a parody of am provengale, one a poeme dialogué, nine are "personal" poems in the iongleresque tradition, and one is a drama, Ie Miracle de Théophile. Apart from this last, all of these may well be considered iongleur's performance pieces, so that, of the works which have come down to us at least, it would appear that the greatest pro- portion (roughly 70%) were dedicated to themes of religious, social and moral import, occasioning Faral's comment that Rutebeuf was "encore iongleur et déia écrivain a la maniere moderne" (Les Jongleurs, p. 165). Indeed, the 13th century may be said to contain the roots of modern litera- ture. While the Golden Age of medieval French literature is generally accepted as the second half of the 12th century, with the poetry of Provence, the his and Epets of Marie de France, the romans of Chrétien de Troyes, the 13th was to 24Johan Huizinga, Homo Ludens: A Study of the PlaJ-Element in Culture (Boston: Beacon Press, December, 1964), pp. 120-121. 25See Appendices A and C for a list of the poems cited. 12 produce a prodigious flowering of writers who broke out of the courtly tradition to take a more realistic view of man and his society.26 The reasons for this are many and should be considered briefly. Historically, the 13th century began with Philippe Auguste, encompassed the regency of Blanche de Castille and the reigns of Louis IX, Philippe le Hardi and Philippe le Bel. It was a time of change and upheaval. It saw the founding of the University of Paris and the last Crusade; the burgeoning of the bourgeoisie, and the end of chivalry. Feudalism, having reached its apogee and served its particular purpose, was being eroded by the chartered communes which were to become the cities of France. The Crusades had opened up trade routes, paving the way for the development of commerce at home and abroad. This spawned the mer- chants, the bankers, the artisans who formed the bulwark of a rich other-than- warrior class, upsetting the balance of what had been three clearly defined estates. It was to spawn yet another class--the students. Flocking to the new University, they thronged the Latin Quarter, forming the basis for an intellectual élite called "clercs". It was the century which saw the birth of French nationalism as, for the first time, the people rallied solidly behind Philippe Auguste to rout the German forces at the Battle of Bouvines (1214). And while it dealt a death-blow to langue 26This is admirably expressed by Faral in his article, "Le roman de la rose et la pensée frangaise au XIIIe siECle": "On se pla1t. . .6 admirer dans la Iittérature . . .du XIIIe siecle une liberté d'allures que n'avait pas le siecle précédent: moins de délicatesse poétique, mais plus d'idées; moins d'imagination, mais plus de critique; une humeur frondeuse qui n'épargne personne, l'ardeur indiscrete d'un caractere raisonneur, la solidité en meme temps que la démarche un peu lourde, du bon sens bourgeois. Les intelligences se mettent alors a fermenter, curieuses, anxieuses de savoir; elles s'attachent a I'étude des phénomemes naturels, dissertent sur le prince, iugent les prélats et les moines, apprennent a désapprouver, a s'inquiéter, a couter, a rever d'un ordre de choses meilleurs"--Revue des Deux Mondei 15 sept. 1926, p. 453 . 0“ ‘- no ‘4- a“ 13 d'oc in the bloody Albigensian Crusade, it saw langue d'o't'l gain considerable prestige abroad. Paying tribute to it as the "language most common to all people", Brunetto Latini wrote his Trésor in French, and Marco Polo his Livre des Merveilles. It was the century of Albertus Magnus, Thomas Aquinas, St. Bonaventure, Roger Bacon and Duns Scotus.27 It was also the century of Dante, St. Francis, and the English barons who wrested the Magna Carta from John Lackland. In the realm of the arts, it produced that gem of medieval architecture, the Sainte Chapelle; the marvel of Mont St. Michel; the cathedrals of Rouen, Reims, Amiens and Beauvais; the sculptures of Chartres and Notre Dame de Paris, and the jeweled pageantry of stained-glass windows. In the realm of serious music, Pérotin Ie Grand created four-voiced polyphony; the "organum tropé" developed into the non-liturgical r_n_o_te_t for three voices, with its opposing rhythms and counterpoint; Adam de la Hall gave musical form to the rondeau, the ballade, and the virelai, and, for the first time, we find "instrumental" dances, notated melodies 28 without words, even when the dance takes its name from a poetic genre, I'estampie. The 13th century brought Aristotle to light, and engendered a scholasticism which sought to conciliate faith and reason, rationalism and mysticism, awakened intellectual curiosity, and produced the naturalism popularly reflected in Jean de Meung's Roman de la Rose. To be sure, this was the realm of scholars, its writings restricted to an intellectual élite. 27All of whom taught (or studied) at one time or another at the University of Paris. 28Jacques Chailley, Histoire Musical du Moyen Age (Paris: 1950) p. 220 t. u .— a-O - p c“ --‘ . u . a .‘Qf-N b d n.‘ '3‘ ~‘c. ~Q ‘n’ 14 Yet, concomitantly, a literature of the people was developing. The iongleur was its disseminator, and the y the organ of its dissemination. Since the term "dit" has been variously and loosely defined, I should like at this point to try to clarify its nature. What, exactly, was the iii? Are there any attributes of form, or tone, or subject matter that particularly characterize it? In the early part of this century, Holmes defined it as "a brief poem, often narrative, with a precept'.'29 We are arrested at once by the word "brief" since Nicole de Margival's 13th century Dit de la Panthere d'amour contains 2,665 octosyllabes, and the Veoir Dit of Guilaume de Machaut is 9, 000 lines long'. So far as the balance of his definition is concerned, a "narrative with a precept" is sufficiently vague to cover am, or a pious tale, and Holmes himself goes on to say that theiil is difficult to classify, some being "so satirical or lyric in quality --for example thedfls by Rutebeuf--that they must be discussed under lyric poetry. " The idea of brevity persists, however. Chambers, quoting Gaston Paris and Bédier, tells us that the term it! is applied to "a number of short poems which deal, 'souvent avec agrément, des suiets empruntés a la vie quotidienne.' Some slits are satirical, others eulogistic of a class or profession, others descriptive" (I, p. 79, n1). Our task is further complicated by the fact that the same work may be variously referred to by different critics. For example, the 12th century Dit de 29Urban T. Holmes, Jr., A History of Old French Literature (New York: Russell and Russell, Inc., 1962), p. 227. . 3A9 'U' 15 Richeut is called a fabliau by Bédier, whereas Lecompte is of the opinion that it should not be so considered although it was born of the "same growing interest in the painting of everyday life which, combined with a traditional story and touched 30 Chambers, defining a fabliau as a with humor, produced the typical fabliau." "conte a rire en vers" points out that the "distinction between the two is not very well defined, and the fabliaux are often called dit: in the Mss." (I, p. 79). A few lines further, he calls the_d_éb_a_t_ or disputoison a "special kind of it. " If the early 20th century was unclear as to the nature of the "dit", what evidence do we have from the 13th? Manuscript A (circa 1276) in the Bibliotheque Nationale (frangais 837-ancien 7218) contains 33 of Rutebeuf's works. At the head of this collection, in 13th century orthography, these words appear: Ci commencent Ii dit Rustebuef and, at its close: Expliciunt tuit Ii dit Rustebuef.3l In Table I, I have listed the poems in the order of their appearance in the Manuscript, indicating the number of lines contained in each. The shortest poem is 24 lines, the longest 2,196. Seven are 100 lines long; 18 between 100 and 200; three between 200 and 300. Of the three fabliaux cited, one is 76, one 170, and one 336 lines. 30 I. C. Lecompte, "Richeut, Old French Poem of the Twelfth Century", The Romanic Review, IV, No. 3, (1913), 266. 3'We might compare, in this connection, Manuscript X containing the works of Colin Muset, also in end of 13th century orthography, which begins "Ci commencent les changons Colin Muset"--Joseph Bédier, Les Chansons de Colin Muset, (Paris: 19697, vii, Rutebeuf and Muset were contemporary iongleurs. Why the term "changon" for one and "dit" for the other? u 5: Lara ~ 5 .1 Q ¥tl. W 5.11.! tar-AV 16 TABLE 1 Order of poems appearing in Manuscript A No Title Number of lines 1 Sainte Elysabel .................... 2,196 2 Secrestain et la femme au chevalier .......... 766 3 Miracle de ThéOphile . ................ 633 4 Complainte d'outremer ................ 174 5 Geoffroi de Sergines . ................ 166 6 Griesche d'hiver ................... 107 7 Griesche d'été .................... 116 8 Dame qui fit trois tours ................ 170 9 Anseau de I'Isle ................... 56 10 Dit des Jacobins ................... 64 11 Discorde des Jacobins ................. 64 12 Mariage Rutebeuf ................... 138 I3 Complainte Rutebeuf ................. 165 14 Voie de Paradis .................... 902 15 Du Pharisien ..................... 114 16 Chanson des Ordres .................. 78 17 Pet au vilain ..................... 76 18 Brichemer ....................... 24 I9 Complainte de Guilaume de Saint Amour ....... 196 20 Marie I'Egyptienne .................. 1, 306 21 Charlot et le Barbier .................. 104 22 Plaies du monde .................... 120 23 Guillaume de Saint -Amour .............. 120 24 Dit des Regles ..................... 182 25 Complainte de ConstantinOple ............. 180 26 Bataille des vices contre les vertus .......... 220 27 Ave Maria . . . .................... 164 28 Renart Ie Bestourné .................. 162 29 Frere Denise ...................... 336 30 Etat du monde ..................... 176 31 La mort Rutebeuf ................... 84 32 Ordres de Paris ,. ................... 168 33 Disputaison du Croisé et du Décroisé ......... 240 *34 Neuf Joies Notre Dame ................ 211 *of questionable authenticity st. ‘0 ”A, “U \ .._ DI 17 Table 2 gives a breakdown of these poems from the standpoint of genre. Twenty-three of the 33 authenticated represent 11 different genres, all of which are referred to in Manuscript A as_d_i_t_s. Included in the list is Rutebeuf's only drama which, while it is a "narrative with a precept", can hardly be considered a "dit" from the standpoint of brevity (633 lines) or genre. Le Secrestain et la femme au chevalier fits Lecompte's requirements for a fabliau (in that it shows the "painting of everyday life. . .combined with a traditional story. . .touched with humor.") Yet it deals with a miracle of the Virgin, hardly a proper subiect for a fabliau (conte a _r_i_r_e_) and Faral calls it a "poeme dialogue". Since Manuscript A is in 13th century orthography, we may assume that the copyist was conversant with the then-prevalent connotation of the term "dit" . To be sure, he might have used it loosely (albeit hardly more loosely than the 20th century) but if he did not, these Tables will suffice to show that a definition based on length or genre is inadequate. What of tone and subiect matter? We find in'the same list poems of serious intent dealing with hagiographical themes, the miracles of the Virgin, the Crusades, the Mendicant Orders, the King and the Pope. .We also find poems of comic intent, such as the seemingly personal confessions of the poet on gambling, his marriage, his poverty and the light veined laughter—provoking tales with a twist that compose the fabliaux. If length, genre, tone and content do not seem to yield viable criteria for the £11, where else must we look? Etymologically, of course, the word is derived from "dire". Robert acknowledges it as an archaic masculine substantive meaning 18 TABLE 2 Breakdown of "dits" in Manuscript A G e n r e complainte fabliau vie de saintes drama poeme dialogué fable chanson tengon personal lyric, prayer allegory Incidence 4 3 Number of poem 4, 13, 19, 25 8, 17, 29 1, 20 3 2 28 1s 21, 23 6, 7, 12, 31 27 14, 15, 26 up; i W :2 A .- li’ V l I i. In J l I 9Q '- A. h? I 2““, a...t\ ‘ 19 32 "mot, maxime", and gives as an example of its use, "les dits de Socrate. " This would carry a connotation of sayings or pronouncements akin to the scribe's use of the term with respect to Manuscript A. Jauss, basing himself on the period from 1180 to 1240 sheds some further 33 light on etymological significance. He points out that Gervaise, in Le Bestiaire, uses the term "estoire" to distinguish his book from the "fables des poetes profanes", and the verb "dire" instead of "conter" to characterize his own writing.34 The apposition of "estoire-dit" to "fable-conte" appears in other allegorical texts of the period where "dit" closely allied with "truth" (as in the formula veritatem dicere ) was antithetical to "conte", applicable to fiction. This distinction will be drastically altered towards the end of the period examined by Jauss: On verra que le mot dit, renvoyant plus tard indistinctement aux genres les plus div——ers, était a I'origine limité dans son emploi: par opposition e la Iittérature profane nourrie de fictions, il servait a désigner Ie nouveau "modus dicendi" allégorique. . .(p. 11). But the problem persists: why was the term "dit" chosen to apply to certain of these 12th and 13th century works, and not to others? Chambers yields a further 32 Paul Robert, Dictionnaire alphabétique et analogique de la langue frangaise, (Paris: 1966) vol. 2, p. 267. In passing, we might note his definition as a "genre Iittéraire, petite piece traitant d'un suiet familier ou d'actualit ", again in terms of length and content. Hans Robert Jauss, Genese de la poésie allégorique frangaise au moyen 9.331 de 1180 a 1240. (Heidelberg: 1962), p. 11 “CL Rutebeuf, Ie Dit de l'Université et des Jacobins: "Que ie vous vueiI conter et dire", (I, p. 239, v. 12) where he seems to use both verbs as synonymous. l O ‘ ' .‘bj' 9‘ I.“ ‘ . _ 1‘ 5 s‘ih .I ‘_. m. 3.. I. O -.'.; . ‘s g x it . . . 20 clue: " It was principally. . .the ditiand fabliaux that lent themselves to unmusical narration (italics mine); and when prose crept in. . .even before reading became universal, it can hardly have been sung" (1, p. 75). More recent research confirms Chambers' understanding of this aspect. Zumthor classes the dit with the roman as "les premieres formes poétiques non-chantées."'35 Chailley, recounting the hiring of Adam de la Halle sheds further light on the matter: Comte Robert ll d'Artois Iui commando un Dit que celui-ci composa séance tenante. Ce fut sans doute Ie Dit d'Amour, violente satire contre l'arnour, par Iaquelle Adam, contredisant nombre de ses autres pieces. . .se met dons l'ambiance de la nouvelle tendance (italics mine). On peut donc noter que c'est sur la foi de son sea talent littéraire, et non comme musicien, qu'Adam fut engagé par le neveu de Saint Louis. . . (p. 205). 36 This new tendancy then was a poem without music. Colin Muset sang his changons in the lyric tradition, and accompanied himself on the viele. Adam de la Halle, as we have seen, was as talented a musician as he was a writer-performer. But nowhere is there any indication of music in connection with Rutebeuf. Quite the contrary. Chailley tells us that while the trouveres prided themselves on being both musicians and poets, "ceux d'entre eux qui rimaient sans musique--Baude Fastoul. . .Jean Bodel. . .Rutebeuf--avouaient par la n'etre pas musiciens" (p. 206). And those who were without musical talent devoted themselves to the dits and became Specialists in recitation and dramatic performance. 35 Paul Zumthor, Langue et Techniques poétiques a l'époque romane (Xle- XIIIe siecles (Paris: Klincksieck, 1963), p. 11. 36In this connection, we might mention Eustache Deschamps' 14th century prose treatise, L'art de dictier et de fere changons, virelais et rondeaulx, in which he seems to make Wis distinctionbetween the old and Hie new fbrms in the title. 21 We know that 12th century poetry, in the troubadour tradition, was closely linked with music. Gérold quotes Folquet de Marseille as saying "Une chanson sons 37 musique est comme un moulin sans eau. " In enumerating the various types of lyric poetry, for North and South alike, Gérold points out that, musically, the genres did not differ appreciably from one another and that their distinctive characteristics are far more apparent in the realm of poetry. With the exception of the love song, bound by tradition to an original melody, the same tonality might serve for a sirventes or a chanson de toile. It would appear that more importance was given to poetic than to melodic creativity. Nonetheless, there was always a musical accompaniment. In the 13th century, however, we see a new type of poetry emerge. While it may still cling in part to earlier lyric forms (changons, complaintes, disputoisons, etc.) it will add the allegory, the fabliau, the pious tale, the dramatic monologue, the poeme dialogué, the polemic, the parody, consonant with the change in content and intent of the period and its bourgeois audience. The chivalric, the marvelous, the courtly love song will wane, as will the emphasis on a hero of superhuman qual- ities and accomplishments. Literature will turn its attention to ordinary man and, wearied of fiction, will seek to portray his reality, be it religious, social or economic. By their nature, the new genres were not destined for musical accompaniment. Clearly, the fabliaux were not sung. Nor the polemics. Nor the hagiographical accounts. They were commentaries, news broadcasts, biographies, eulogies. Their realm was rhetoric, not melody. It is my contention that the term "dit" was chosen 37Théodore Gérold, La Musique au Moyen Age (Paris: CFMA 78, 1932), p. 90. a." 2 J "1 I. 22 to distinguish the new modus dicendi, or the poem recited from the song sung. Again, we see this distinction made in the 14th century by Guillaume de Machaut in a letter to Péronne d'Armentieres, "Je vous envoie un rondel dont ie fis piéca le chant et le fl."38 Here, he clearly means "words and music". In the "dit", then, we have the birth of our modern poetic form wherein poetry is declaimed and not sung. It is interesting to note that not only did the poem liberate itself from music in the 13th century, but music began to liberate itself from the poem, to become an art form in its own right. I spoke earlier of instrumental dances musically notated without corresponding words. During the second half of the century, we also find a tendency towards the individualization of instruments in linear if not harmonic value. By the 14th century, Guillaume de Machaut will be using voices as instruments to implement his polyphony, as in the case of the double and triple ballades, where two or three songs are sung simul- taneously, the words unintelligible, lost in the harmonic ingenuity of the musician. The two art forms, contemplating divorce, begin to go their separate ways. Chronologically, we have seen that the term "dit" makes its first literary appearance in the 12th century, and proliferates in the 13th. What of the 14th? We have already referred to the Veoir Dit of Guillaume de Machaut (p. 14) whose complete title well describes its nature : "Le livre du voir dit de Guillaume Machaut, oD sont contées les amours de Messire Guillaume de Machaut et de Péronelle, dame d'Armentieres, avec les lettres et les réponses, les ballades, Iais et rondeaux dudit 38A. Machabey, Etudes de Musicologie pré-médiévale, suite d'article dans la Revue de Musicologie (1935-36) II, 329, cited in Chailley, p. 242. a... 23 "39 This purports to be the true story of the Guillaume et de ladite Péronelle. Machaut-Péronne relationship, and the term almost reverts to Jauss's explanation of veritatem dicere as being antithetical to fiction (see p. 19 above), the difference being the profane content of Machaut's _<_:l_i_t. Machaut wrote other_<_:l_i_t_s and several ieux-partis, but he had a nostalgia for the old forms and courtly themes which is not typical of his century. On the other hand, Eustache Deschamps was enamoured of the new genres and wrote prolifically on a variety of subiects in the commentator- iournalist tradition, if not the style, of Rutebeuf. We might mention him of his dits in this connection, the Dit du gieu des dez and the Dit des quatre offices de l'ostel du roy, the latter being a dramatic morality debate "a iouer par personnages". Froissart wrote a Dit du florin, and Christine de Pisan a Dit de la rose, but in line with the transformation of the iongleur into the "man of letters", the d_i_t is much less in evidence in the 14th century than in the 13th, and becomes virtually synonymous with "poem". By the 15th century, the theatrical potential of the fabliaux will deveIOp into force; allegory will evolve into the morality play, and Rutebeuf's Herberie will be rightfully accounted a monologue dramatique. The dit, having outlived its usefulness, will pass into oblivion. Let us now take another look at the selections in Manuscript A. May it not xFor a sympathetic treatment and analysis of the Veoir Dit, see Gustave Cohen, La vie Iittéraire en France au Moyen-Age, pp. 274-288. Cohen considers it "un ioyau unique Knotre Iittérature". 1150, cf. Chailley, p. 242, on the dual talents of Guillaume de Machaut: "II écrivait ses vers sans touiours penser e la musique qui les accompagnerait: Ie Veoir Dit nous réveIe que plusieurs de ses oeuvres n'avaient d'abord été écrites que comme poésies pures, et furent mises en musique plus tard, a Ia’dem‘dnde de Péronne." According to Chailley, Machaut and Adam de la Halle were both poets and musicians and not really "poem-musiciens". 24 be said of all of them that they are works of the iongleur Rutebeuf, in his roles of commentator, publicist, or entertainer? Do they not all appear to be recitations, without music, intended for performance? If we conceive of the dit as denoting the writings of a trouvere, intended to be spoken instead of sung, it may be a W, an allegory, a diatribe, a personal lyric, 0:531:91, or pious tale. It may be long or short, serious or comic, varying in content. Even the Miracle de Théophile would be covered by such a definition. Viewed as the medium of expression for a new kind of poetry, divorced from music, Covering a variety of intents, subiectsard genres, the destiny of the ditwould appear to have been tied to that of the iongleur. Like him, it evolved in the 12th century, rose to its apogee in the 13th, declined and changed character in the 14th. Like him, it may be said to have had a dual role--to demonstrate the poetic worth of the writer and the virtuosity of the performer. In terms of chronology, nature, and function, the d_it emerges as the special genre of the iongleur who was a poet performer rather than a musician. Performance, then is implicit in the d_itof the 13th century, as it is in the role of the iongleur. Rutebeuf was not a singer, but a teller of tales, a performer- poet whose economic well-being depended upon his popularity with the masses. Although it would appear from his works that he preferred the role of poet, a man of humble origin with no patron to sponsor him must needs earn a reputation use per- former before he can claim to have the ear of the people. It is significant that his contemporary, Adenet le roi, assured of bed and board and the protection of a seigneurial court, clung to the courtly traditions and genres, whereas Rutebeuf, ‘. r. :‘-p '. ~ Q g - In!‘ G; ’- L- L2 at 25 obliged to win his own following, catered to the demands and interests of a wider and less aristocratic public. Having arrived at a point of eminence where he could influence public opinion, he would have to maintain this position to sustain his value to prospective patrons. A 13th century poet could ill afford to separate his two functions. His fame and his livelihood as a writer depended on performance so that, at all times, he must keep his audience in mind, striving to interest, delight, and manipulate them to his purpose. By what means did he accomplish this? Inherent in the term performance is portrayal before an audience. It solicits the participation of the bearer-spectator in a ioint experience. To achieve this end, the performer will resort to sundry techniques, as old as man, which have demonstrated their effectiveness in performer- audience interrelation, for the successful performer is always alert and attuned to the mood and desires of his audience. While performance is generally associated with drama, it is not limited to the theatrical realm. A violinist performs a concerto. A priest performs a ritual. A lawyer performs to a iury. If they perform in such a way as to appeal not only- to the eye and the ear, but to the viscera and the intel- lect, the performance may be said to contain dramatic elements, though it is not, prOperly speaking, drama. Chambers defines "drama" as implying "impersonation and a distribution of roles between at least two performers" (I, p. 81).40 By "dramatic" I understand having aSpects usually associated with portrayal, causing to stand out in vivid relief, lending a living dimension to, having multiple sensory 40 For his discussion of dramatic elements in the minstrel repertory, see pp. 77-86. 26 appeal. Performance implies the use of dramatic techniques. It is the purpose of this study to examine the effect of performance on the writings of Rutebeuf. In what ways did the all-pervasive presence of his public affect the form, intent, genre, action, devices and language of the iongleur ? Chapter 1 will seek to define the criteria to be applied. C H A P T E R 1 Definition of Criteria Huizinga, in his admirable study on the play-element in culture, links play to every human endeavor--Ianguage, ritual, law, war, myth, poetry, the arts, philosophy--in that it reproduces many of the fundamental forms of social life. "Ritual grew up in sacred play; poetry was born in play and nourished on play; music and dancing were pure play. . .We have to conclude that civiliza- tion in its earliest phases, played" (p. 173). He defines "play" as an "activity which proceeds within certain limits of time and space, in a visible order, ac- cording to rules freely accepted, and outside the Sphere of necessity or material utility. The play mood is one of rapture and enthusiasm, and is sacred or festive in accordance with the occasion. A feeling of exaltation and tension accompa- nies the action, mirth and relaxation follow" (p. 132). One might say, broadly speaking, that this definition applies to drama. Indeed, of the three forms of poetry Huizinga distinguishes--lyric, epic and drama--only drama, by its nature and function, "remains permanently linked to play. . .Drama is called 'play' and the performance of it 'playing' (p. 144). Further characterizing play as a "contest Lg something or a representation of something" (p. 13), he designates it as an essential human need, and points to its presence in animals as proof that it antedates civilization. Inherent in play as contest (or 9202)] and representation (or performance) are the dramatic elements which, as Chambers has shown, abound in the folklore of all ethnic groups (v. 1). 27 28 The similarity of their origin is striking. They appear, in one form or another, in the sun and rain charms, the fertility rites, the sacrificial cakes and wine, the processions, festivals and contests of sacred play. Vestiges of pagan ritual were superimposed upon Christian worship, and clung stubbornly, despite the hostility of church and state. Early Christian Rome did its best so suppress the ludi.2 In Moritur et Ride, Salvian demanded that Christians renounce the Spectacula in their baptismal vows. Chagrinned at the defeat of their once-supreme Empire by the barbarian hordes, embittered Romans held that fascination for spectacle was responsible for weakening the moral fibre of their countrymen, who preferred the theaters and arenas to the battlefield. This play orientation of the Mediterranean people was not shared by their more primitive Germanic conquerors. Yet so strong was this drive that, in the 6th century, the Ostrogoth, Theodoric, "King of the Goths and the Romans", was obliged to defer to p0pular demand and continue the Spectacula which he himself deSpised as an unwholesome influence upon the peOple. And in the 13th century, Thomas Aquinas acknowledged, "Sicut dictum est, ludus "3 est necessarius ad conversationem vitae humanae. Speaking of medieval liturgical drama, Young states that "No other dramatic lAgon is the Greek word applying to combat or contest and, according to Huizinga, was one of the chief elements in Greek social life. The Greeks staged contests for everything offering the possibility of a "fight", such as beauty contests for men, singing contests, riddle-solving contests, keeping-awake and drinking contests (pp. 71-73). 2The Latin word ludus, carrying a semantic etymology of "feigning" or "taking on the semblance—3f", was used to indicate the whole gamut of play-- childrens' games, recreation, gladiatorial combat, chariot racing, games of chance, sacred ritual and theatrical performances (Huizinga, pp. 35-36). 3Summae theologiae, II, 2, quest. 168, art. 3 IA .., “‘44 1‘3». ' h., 1“" I ,' 29 tradition engendered it, or dictated its form or content."4 It owed its genesis, as did the Greek drama, to the human impulse towards sacred play. While claim- ing no direct descent for liturgical drama, both Young and Chambers distinguish three dramatic traditions as persisting throughout the medieval period: (1) The literary drama of pagan antiquity: Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Aristophanes and Menander were unknown to 13th century France. It was not until the Fall of Constantinople in 1453 that the Greek scholars fled to the West, bringing their precious manuscripts with them. True, the Latin scholars of the Middle Ages were familiar with the comedies of Terence and Plautus, and the ten tragedies of Seneca were adequately preserved, although there is no indication of a wide-spread knowledge of them before the 14th century. Yet, these medieval scholars had some misconceptions about Roman dramaturgy. The terms tragoedia and comoedia in the Middle Ages referred to narrative rather than dramatic form, and were of fixed tone and content. Tragedy began happily, and ended with misfortune, was written in an elevated style, dealt with important events in the lives of persons of consequence. Comedy began with misfortune and ended happily, was colloquial in style, and dealt with the lower ranks of society, often with illicit love (Young, pp. 4-5). By these definitions, Ovid's elegies would be considered tragoedia, Virgil's eclogues, comoedia, Dante's epic a true "comoedia divina" and the narration of Chaucer's monk short Il'Ogoedia . ‘ 4Karl Young, The Drama of the Medieval Church (2 vols. ; Oxford: 1933), ll P. 6. ..... a... . . . «1w 30 While Plautus was generally neglected during this period, the plays of Terence were relegated to the classroom, his spare style lending itself to the formulation of ethical precepts for pupil edification. In the 10th century, the nun, Hrotsvitha of Gandersheim, wrote six plays in the manner of Terence, which she herself indicated were to be read, ignorant of the fact that Terence's works had been intended for dramatic representation (Young, pp. 4-5). (2) The repertory of the mime: Authorities are generally agreed that the traditions of the ancient scenici, histriones, and 2111], while undergoing change, yet survived into the Middle Ages, emerging as iongleurs, whose role as performers is particularly germane to this study. (The iongleresque tradition remains alive in our times in the Calypso Singers of the West Indies, the troubadours of Yugoslavia and the Brazilian bards of the backlands who engage in verse duels at rural fiestas, reminiscent of the contests of the Saphists in ancient Greece.) (3) Folk drama : Originally a rite performed in a sacred enclosure by members of primitive groups at seasonal festivals, folk drama had its inception in symbolic representation that was more than imitative of the desired results in that it sought to reproduce them by methectic action. Huizinga cites the ancient Chinese ritual where music and dance were needed "to keep the world in its right course and to force Nature into benevolence towards man" (p. 14). The performance was crucial to assure the ripening of crops, and considered indispensable to the welfare of the social group. Long after its sacred purpose was lost sight of, the ritual persisted, as in the case of the Feast of Fools and the topos of the quete which Chambers has treated fully 31 (I, p. 211 ff). Here again, the ritual, if not its mystic import, survives in our times in the Maypole dances and the American custom of "trick or treat" at Hallow- can. This deep-rooted drive for dramatization, which has manifested itself in- dependently in various world cultures, Aristotle called mimesis plus harmony- rhythm. It is cogent to point out here that Huizinga is unable to describe play in other than mimeto-rhythmic terms.5 If we accept his thesis that play is older than civilization, then the mimeto-rhythmic drive antedates drama and the Aristotelian analysis of dramatic elements, although stated in terms of tragedy are universal 'n import. True, writing in the 4th century B.C., Aristotle looked back upon the Periclean dramatists who certainly belonged to the Golden Age of Greek civiliza- tion. It would be patently uniust for us to apply the criteria of so sophisticated an age to medieval culture. Yet, if mimesis and rhythm are essential human needs, then dramatization, wherever it deveIOps or at whatever period it occurs, will have certain common aspects. It is these that I shall attempt to isolate and define, using Aristotle's Poetics as a point of departure. What is meant by mimesis? Broadly Speaking, it is the portrayal of life through art. It may be a painting, a piece of sculpture, a dance, a play--but whatever form it takes, essentially it imitates life. To be sure, we are concerned 5In his words, "Our point of departure must be the conception of an almost childlike play-sense expressing itself in various play-forms, some serious, some playful, but all rooted in ritual and productive of culture by allowing the innate human need of rhythm, harmony, change, alternation, contrast and climax (italics mine) to unfold in full richness. Coupled wmwfiflnis flay sense is a spirit that strives for honor, dignity, superiority and beauty. Magic and mystery, heroic Iongings, the foreshadowings of music, sculpture and logic all seek form and expression in noble play. . ." (p. 75). .— 1‘ “no- a”... ~t~~ .. 1 q C 1 3‘1 5. ,r I 0/. 32 here with its dramatic aspect. To dramatize is to give a deeper dimension to reality by creating an illusion of reality with which the spectator can readily identify, and to which he can relate because it enacts what he knows and per- ceives, highlights and focusses on ideas, symbols, or abstractions which he has understood dimly but been unable to concretize fully for himself. 8y harmony-rhythm, we understand movement to measure, the elements of rise, fall, flow, alternating and recurring beat or cadence, encompassing Dance, Music, Language and the union of word and melody that we call Song. Apart from its mystic aspect, as exhibited in ritual, mimesis is a tool for teaching and learning, and experiencing vicariously. It may be conscious or un- conscious. Dream, nightmare, hallucination, réverie, all are mimeto-rhythmic manifestations. Although they occur in the imaginary world, they imitate elements of reality and may be said to have dramatic content. So also does the play of a child. The little girl thrusting an imaginary spoon towards her doll's lips, saying, "Eat your Spinach or you can't have any ice cream," is enacting the "mother role" as she has perceived and assimilated it. If she becomes aware of her mother, smil- ing on the sidelines, she may repeat the scene, intensifying gesture, perhaps using props, or even reversing her admonition to, "Eat your ice cream or you can't have any Spinach." Then, what has been private play becomes deliberate performance, calculated to provoke laughter or win approval. This has the elements of drama cited by Chambers--"dialogue, impersonation, distribution of roles between two performers"--and adds another essential ingredient, the audience. Having recognized mimesis-rhythm as a basic human drive, let us consider the dramatic elements which implement it. Aristotle sets forth six essential elements \ ‘1 33 for drama: Plot, Character, Thought, Diction, Spectacle and Song.6 In his "Preliminary Observations", Fergusson tells us " The arts may be distinguished in three ways : according to the obiic: imitated, the medium employed, and the manner" (p. 4). Plot, Character and Thought are indicated as obiects of mimesis; Diction as manner of mimesis; and Spectacle and Song, medium of mimesis (p. 62). In these terms, with certain relevant modifications to be explained, I pr0pose to establish the following structure of dramatic elements and their definition. We have seen that the purpose of the iongleur was to please and instruct through performance (i. e. mimesis plus the natural sense of harmony-rhythm) achieved through: 1. Dramatic FORM. For our purposes, form will be limited to monologue and dialogue. A monologue occurs where one person Speaks at length to another, or to a group of persons. In a broad sense, then, every piece of writing, every speech or oration is a monologue, in that there is confrontation between author-performer, or reader- audience, with one doing the Speaking and the other, the listening. There is, however, monologue with avowedly dramatic intent, such as the Dit de l'Herberie, which will seek mimetic effect through characterization, thought, gesture, voice inflection, even pantomime or mimicry. 8y dialogue, we mean an interchange between at least two persons, possibly more. One Speaks while the other (presumably) listens, then replies while the first 6All quotations from the Poetics are based on the S. H. Butcher translation with an introduction by Francis Fergusson, (New York: Hill and Wang, 1961), hereinafter referred to as Poetics. 34 speaker listens. Under the dialogue form would be included such genres as the tangon (or disputoison) a poetic debate in which first one, then the other protagon- ist Speaks to a specific question which may be serious or comic in intent; and the poeme dialogue, such as the Sacristain et la femme au chevalier which, though dealing with a miracle is not a play, since it was meant to be performed by one person, who narrates the whole while playing the roles of the protagonists. This form was intended to demonstrate the virtuosity of the igflgleg and contained the mimetic qualities of plot, character and thought, and the rhythmic properties of voice (falsetto for the lady, baritone for the sacristain), gesture, and rhetoric. It must be borne in mind that the term "dialogue" is being used here to distinguish form and is not intended in the broad sense indicated by Aristotle as Olsen interprets him: ". . .dialogue is “governed by probabilities of character, thought, emotion, action, circumstance. . .by the nature of the depiction. . . realistic or fantastic. . .by convention, as well as by the kind of theater for which it was intended."7 He sees it as encompassing "all the verbal acts which the per- sonages perform. . in short all the things that peOpIe can do to each other by means of words" (p. 138). To be sure, in the course of this study, it may become neces- sary to use the term in both its narrow and broad implications, but the difference in intent Should be readily determinable by the context. From the standpoint of form, the play or drama may be included under dialogue. In accord with Manley, Young defines a play as a "story presented in 7Elder Olson, The Theory of Comedy (Bloomington : Indiana University Press, 1968), p. 138, Hereinafter referred to as Comedy. 35 action, in which Speakers or actors impersonate the characters concerned" (1, p. 80). Unlike Chambers, he does not consider dialogue essential for a play. This would mean that pantomime would qualify as drama, as would monologue if the speaker impersonated someone else, and a story were presented in action. For our purposes, this definition is too broad. While we cannot rule out the possibility of pantomime as a mimetic adiunct to a performer's speech, in this study a play will be understood to include dialogue, impersonation, a distribution of roles between at least two performers, designed to be enacted before an audience. Since mimeto-rhythmic appeal is the essence of dramatic quality, dialogue, though not necessarily dramatic in itself, becomes so when used in combination with characterization, plot, and diction. A combination of all, or almost all, elements produces drama. A combination of some elements produces mimeto- rhythmic appeal which enhances performance. Dialogue used as a rhetorical device designed to be read, though it may have sensory appeal, calls for imaginative per- ception by the reader instead of physical perception through a multi-medial ap- proach. It cannot therefore be considered mimetic. 2 . Dramatic INTENT. By intent I mean the author's purpose in creating and presenting the work (for we assume dramatic intent in the iongleur's performance.) Is his intent essen- tially serious or essentially comic? The term serious may be defined as having a high moral purpose, arousing to action through fear-pity, indignation, a sense of iustice, or similar sentiments. It would be linked closely to the news commenta- tor-editorialist-publicist function of Rutebeuf. A "serious intent",according to Olson, "endows with worth. . .exhibits life as directed to important ends" ‘5' ND. 2... § .- u i :- \ 9f n. 5 r 1! 36 «My, p. 36). In these terms, comic intent would have a low (or lower) pur- pose, would seek to arouse to action through laughter, using satire, irony, parody-burlesque, or whatever might point up incongruity. This would be linked to the entertainer function of Rutebeuf. Though tragedy would certainly be serious in intent, it is Simply one aspect of serious intent and not the whole of it. A serious goal is not necessarily tragic. In terms of a 13th century iongleur, it might be merely to instruct, or edify, or arouse to action. Nor, conversely, is a comic intent always "worthless" or directed only to "unimportant" ends. In- deed, it may well have the same purpose for the iongleur, to instruct, or edify, or arouse to action. The difference lies in what Aristotle calls manner of presen- tation, and what I designate as tone. 3 . Dramatic TONE. Tone is so closely allied to intent in the effect produced that they very nearly form an entity and there is a phraseology common to both. Three types of tone may be distinguished: tragic, comic, and bawdy, recognizing possible fusions and combinations, such as tragi-comic, or bawdy-comic. By tragic tone is meant the creation of an atmOSphere or situation conducive to the contemplation of high purpose. The tragic tone takes a grave view of the dramatic situation, endows it with a sense of crucial importance and significance. In Aristotelian terms, Olsen defines "tragedy" as "exhausting pity ~and fear by arousing these emotions to their utmost and by providing them with their most perfect obiects; it excites concern and directs it into its proper channel; it brings the mind into its normal condition by energizing its capacity for painful emotion" (p. 36). Traditionally, tragedy has dealt with such themes as vengeance, incest, murder, rape, pestilence, 1:4 , '9' . ‘4 I I.‘ .. i '4 a i l .a 9.. I: vb?‘ 37 jealousy, seeking equality with the gods, but the content in itself is neither tragic nor comic nor bawdy. What determines the tone is its manner of presenta- . tion. Treating such themes with solemnity, couching them in sublime poetic form, wringing the last ounce of emotion from their portrayal results (in an artist of con- summate skill) in tragedy. (In less skillful hands, the result may well be melodrama.) The convention of our times often affects our attitudes. The atmOSphere of the Louvre is hushed. We regard its paintings with awe, our reaction predisposed by the knowledge that the work of a second-rate artist would not be exhibited here. We would be shocked to find a cartoon hung in its hallowed premises, for we as- sociate cartoon with derision and laughter. Yet, if a cartoon were hung in the Louvre, we would search it carefully for some universal truth, seek to discover artistic merit in it, for we have been conditioned to expect worth and serious pur- pose in the Louvre's offerings. Tone tells us how we ought to react. If the tragic tone tells us the content is significant, the comic implies the reverse. At the outset, we know we are not expected to take it seriously. The clown enters the circus arena, his humanness travestied beyond recognition. He is mute, his nose bulbous in a white-washed face on which lines of sadness or deSpair have been boldly traced. His body amorphous in multi-color, ends in enormous shoes that flap as he walks. Forthwith, he slips and falls into a bucket of water from which he cannot remove his head. Are we deeply touched by his plight? Do we feel an empathetic restriction in our own cranial area comparable to what he must be experiencing? No. The moment he enters, we have our frame , of reference. Clowns are supposed to be funny. The predictability of our reaction is crucial to his success as a performer. He has deliberately chosen the tone best ol- ), v» Qua-IA. ~h vi "9- i a: . I sl. : . 'rI . 1. Q 1 n3 .PQ 38 calculated to produce the desired effect. For the comic tone seeks to create a lighthearted atmosphere or situation, conducive to laughter or amusement, and has a low (or lower) purpose than the tragic. It exposes to ridicule, and puts its content at once into proper perSpective. We are not expected to take such things seriously. Thus, Olson tells us, "comedy and tragedy differ basically in the value which they induce us to set upon the actions which they depict" (p. 39). The bawdy tone, more venerable in origin and less literary than the other two, traces its ancestry to the ancient fertility rite, and I am indebted to Cornford for its explanation.8 The purpose of the ritual or "sacred marriage" (hieros gamos) was to promote fertility of all kinds by means of mimetic magic. "A sexual union is consummated or feigned in order that all natural powers of fertility may be stimu- lated to perform their function and give increase of crops and herds and of man himself. Between the imitative rite and the natural events it is intended to cause, there is the bond of sympathetic mimesis, consisting in the actual likeness of the act ritually performed to the desired event" (p. 65). Another mimetic aspect of the rite is the choice of two performers to imper- sonate the Earth-rnother and the Heaven-father "whose rain falls in a life-giving stream into the womb of Earth" (p. 65). At one stage in the development of this rite, the role of the Heaven-father was represented by a bull, or a goat, or a ram, and it was customary for the worshippers themselves to wear animal skins or masks. It is not difficult to see in this the origin of the Satyrs, nor their relationship to 8Francis M. Cornford, The Origin of Attic Comedy (Garden City, New York: Doubleday 8 Company, Inc., 1961), 54-66; 106-109; 111-12. h' r“ . ... .. . 10" :v a... ..3 s 1 ' v cl" ..._ 39 the Satyr plays which accompanied the tragedies at 5th century religious festivals. Later, in the Bacchic rites, Dionysius or the lesser god, Phales (who personified the P_h_<'.tll_us, Symbol of procreation), would play the role of the fertility spirit. DeveIOping from this ancient rite, came the Phallic Song, sung alternately between a Chorus and a succession of Leaders. It began by invoking the god's presence: "0 Phales, Phales '. Hymen, O Hymenaee '. lo, Paian '." and continued with a ribald improvisation by the Leaders at the expense of various individuals present. This latter aspect is of particular interest since it is the fore- runner of our present-day locker-room humor concerned with man's bodily functions and performance in bed and bathroom. Despite its unliterary origin, the bawdy element concerns us because it appears in the fabliaux and formed part of the jongleur's repertory. The three tones may be summarized in the following terms. The tragic tone exalts, and appeals to the godlike nature of man. The comic tone decries or ridi- cules and appeals to the human nature of man. The bawdy, of earthy origin, leers and appeals to the animal nature of man. Although these are the tones generally associated with Greek drama, it is not my intent to limit their application to the Periclean dramatists. Gilbert Murray postulated that tragedy stemmed from a primitive ritual origin,9and Cornford made a similar claim for Comedy and the Seasonal Pantomime. While Cornford's claim is still quite generally held among 9Gilbert Murray, "Excursus on the Ritual Forms preserved in Greek Tragedy", in Jane Harrison's Themis (Cambridge : 1912), 341 ff. am" .' f... v 11;" \ H _ '1 t e" “, F 2 ct‘ I?" . .5 ca (.1 '- «vs U _ . :2; as 7‘ *5: 't t.‘ I ll' Il:l ('I — v. 8 J I c “Fa-5 H<:Uf IS ' l 40 cognoscenti, '0 in 1965, Gerald F. Else seriously challenged Murray's hypothesis. He traces the origin of tragedy from the elegiac and iambic verse of Salon, to the institution of the Panathenean Festival by Pisistratus, in which TheSpis, the first actor-writer, competed. According to Else, "Tragedy did not begin as a transposi- tion of epic material into dramatic form, complete with debate, conflict, battle; it began as a self-presentation of a single epic hero. . .of the hero's situation, his fate. . .the whole development of Greek tragedy from the beginning to the end of its life span, was a flowering from this single root. . . "" Decrying the fact that "tragedy is a fashionable genre nowadays", treated with reSpect by critics and playwrights among whom a feeling prevails that "it is the highest and somehow the 'truest' literary genre", Else affirms that "Tragedy is a rare and special plant; not a universal form of serious literature but a unique creation born at a particu- lar time and place" (p. 8). This is also Young's position on medieval liturgical drama. Springing from man's undeniable mimeto-rhythmic impulse, drama evolves to meet the particular needs of a particular public. It will hold certain tones in common with other drama, and these are the ones I have sought to define as generally applicable to performance. There is a corollary to be noted here. We have seen that tone reflects intent and sets the guidelines for Spectator reaction. If the tone is solemn, we 10In the Editor's Foreword to Cornford's work, Theodor H. Gaster says, "We can now recognize that even if his particular analysis of the plays of Aristo- phanes be highly dubious or even wholly untenable, his broad theory about the origin of Greek comedy can still stand up on independent grounds. Much that invited challenge. . .can now command assent when it is so richly illustrated, if not actually confirmed, by more recent discoveries. " (p. xxvii). l'Gerald F. Else, The Origin and Early Form of Greek Tragedy (Cambridge, MaSS.: Harvard University Press, 1965), p. 65. (I) ~. g 3236.7, 15 1056 Cl] all; , n 'p.‘/‘ hlsimi} I571, ' .1! , 41 anticipate serious intent. But what happens when tone belies intent, when it is contrary to expectation? For example, suppose our clown, head stuck in bucket, were to proclaim in Sophoclean accents: Woe is me '. Alas, alas, wretched that I am '. Whither, whither am I borne in my misery? O, thou horror of darkness that enfoldest me, Ay me '. and once again, ay me '. How fast my head is 'prisioned in this bucket '. Here, the tone is tragic, the intent comic. Because the frame of reference for clown is funny, laugh the audience will, and the effect produced is opposite to ' the tone implied. This divergence of tone and intent results in irony, a weapon in the arsenal of satire. 4. Dramatic GENRE. The term genre has a multiple connotation. First, broadly, it embodies those classifications linked with serious or comic intent, such as tragedy-comedy, aIIegory-parabIe-fantasy-dream, parody-burlesque, satire, polemic, hagiography and similar categories. Secondly, it may be used in the narrower sense of type of poem, within the broader framework, such as tengon, complainte, chanson, fabliau, état du monde, voie de Paradis, and so on. We have also used it in terms of manner of presentation to characterize the dit, a spoken genre, ancestor of the poem with- out music, intended to be heard, rather than read. Here again the context will quite readily determine the sense in which the term is specifically used. 5 . Dramatic ACTION. There have been, and will doubtless continue to be, many interpretations of Aristotle's connotation for action (p252). Butcher explains it as art seeking 1’0 re produce "a psychic energy working outwards", and Fergusson elaborates this as a. .v «a. .v‘. o O in as“) 42 the "whole working out of a motive to its end in success or failure" (Poetics, p. 9). AS he interprets Aristotle, action (praxis) and passion (pathos) combine to arrive at theoria, or "contemplation of truth". In philosophical rather than dramatic terms, praxis is active, moving towards a desired goal; pathos is passive, encoun- tering something it cannot control or understand and is moved by the encounter. The first is rational and consciously controlled; the second, affective and beyond control. This reflects Kenneth Burke's "tragic rhythm of action"--Purpose (praxis) 12 to Passion (pathos) to Perception (theoria)—-which he applies to literature. In purely dramatic terms, Olson defines action as impersonation which "can be repre- sented directly or indirectly, by external behavior."'3 If we combine these concepts and define action as the "whole working out of a motive to its end in success or failure, through impersonation represented by external behavior", it becomes apparent that we encompass the first three of Aris- totle's six dramatic elements--Plot, Character and Thought, the BEE—CE of mimesis. Speaking of tragedy as "an imitation of an action, and of the agents mainly with a view to the action", Aristotle gives Plot, which he defines as "the arrange- ment of incidents", primacy over Character, or "the agents of the action". Both, however, are secondary to Thought (dianoia), described as the "faculty of saying what is possible and‘ pertinent in given circumstances. . .the art of rhetoric". The ramifications of Thought, as defined by Aristotle, belong quite properly in the realm of Language, but to label the motive aspect of Thought related to Action 12Kenneth Burke, Counterstatement (New York : 1957). 'aElder Olson, Tragedy and Theory of Drama (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1961), p. 19, hereinafter reTerred to as Tragedy. :v 9.. §\. I n‘h a I 9P- ) 1‘» e . :x r; . y . C. s \v 43 I should like to use the word "theme". For the purposes of this study, then, "action" is understood to mean the interrelated movement between: Th eme: or the unifying principle which binds Plot and Character together, representing the concepts the poet seeks to portray, or the story he wishes to tell. Plot: or the basic, structural form of the drama, the choice and sequence of incidents which will prove or disprove the motive, or Theme. A plot may be descriptive or didactic, and the incidents of which is is composed may be similar or dissimilar in pattern, but they exist only to express the Theme. C h ara c ter : or the delineation and motivation of the human counterparts through whom the Theme and Plot are implemented. Character may be revealed in dialogue (through Thought) or in incident (through behavior). We have seen that, for Aristotle, Plot takes precedence over Character in tragedy. With respect to comedy, the situation may be reversed, with Character superseding Plot. Yet, whatever the hierarchy may be, it is the combination of these three elements that comprise Action. For, as Olson indicates, everything arises out of action, which must be primary and comprehensive, not incidental I! I1. 9",- v 4 d! ‘.z ".1 'w W -p~q. - -— u- I 44 to declamation, song, dance or anything else (Tragedy, p. 9). This becomes clear in Adam de la Halle's Jeu de la Feuillée, where there is no unifying thread (theme) to hold the play together, so that the incidents (plot) occur without discernible se- quence or order. Characters gather, chaff each other, leave, make way for other characters who do the same, the fairies sing, there are changes of scene and décor, the tone is lighthearted and ribald, but all seems aimless. Primacy is given to character, diction, Spectacle and song. However entertaining a diversion it may have been for the good folk of Arras who understood its jibes and raillery, as theater it is froth rather than substance, since there is neither theme nor plot for its characters to implement. 6 . Dramatic DEVICES . As the term Action has been used to encompass the objects of mimesis -- Theme, Plot and Character--the term Devices is intended to describe the manner and medium of mimesis--Diction, Spectacle and Song. Devices implement Action, their dual function being to enhance Thought in the broad sense of dianoia. Strictly speaking, Thought is not a dramatic element. Fergusson sees it as referring to "a very wide range of the mind's activities from abstract reasoning to the per- ception and formulation of emotion" (P3525, p. 25). Yet, all dramatic elements derive from Thought and indeed we cannot define Plot, Character, Diction, Spectacle, or Song except in terms of Thought. Conversely, Thought while not in itself mimeto-rhythmic, owes its existence to the mimeto-rhythmic elements which give it life. Thought with respect to Action (designated as theme) represents motive. Thought with respect to Devices represents "the perception and formulation of emotion" aSpect of Fergusson's definition. 45 For our present purposes, the components of Devices are defined as: Diction: Spectacle: Song: The delivery of Thought and Action through voice, inflection, gesture, grimace, panto- mime, mimicry or any other means of effec- tive portrayal. Diction, viewed as the art of acting can illumine Thought or lessen its effectiveness. In this sense, Thought is de- pendent on the actor's performance for its mimetic apprehension and interpretation. The heightened portrayal of Thought and Action by means of costumes, props, scenery, dance, procession, contest, or some other form of rhythmic movement. Like acting, Spectacle enhances apprehension and inter- pretation of Thought through multi-sensory appeal, but its implementation is the province of the producer rather than the poet. The poet can envision and prescribe Spectacle; the producer-performer animates it. The use of music to implement Diction and Spectacle. Here again the appeal is rhythmic and encompasses instrumentation (from the beat of a drum, or blare of a trumpet to a full or- chestra) and the human voice in solo, duet, 46 trio, quartet or choral singing. Music sets the tone of Spectacle. It may be lighthearted and gay, as in the Jeu de Robin et de Marion of Adam de la Halle, or pious and uplifting, as in the Te Deum which terminates the Miracle de Théophile. 7 . Dramatic LANGU AGE . Language, like Spectacle and Song, is a medium of mimesis. While not in itself mimeto-rhythmic, its manipulation is basic to the implementation of Plot, Character, Thought and Diction and as such, it is germane to this study. Further, we can assess Rutebeuf's awareness of his audience only in terms of Language, since there is no other evidence on which it may be based. In Aristotelian terms, Language would be considered an adjunct of both Thought and Diction. Under “Thought", he tells us, " is included every effect which has to be produced by speech, the subdivisions being proof and refutation; the excitation of feelings, such as pity, fear, anger, and the like; the suggestion of importance or its op- posite" (Poetics, XIX 2, p. 93). Since by Diction, Aristotle understands "delivery of Thought and Action", its relationship to Language is apparent. Yet Diction, as the art of acting can be expressed in other than Language form, such as gesture, grimace, pantomime and rhythmic movement, while Thought relies for its communication on the unit of Language called Word. A complex organism determined by lexical, phonological, morphological, syntactical and rhythmic prOperties, Word is to Language as Note is to Music, and in the same way that music enhances Spectacle, Language expresses Thought. In my view, therefore, 3; ‘7‘. -A‘. 3.x.- ‘ .4 'lflou H . ‘.“ ) .. e 47 the Language-Thought entity is reciprocal, with neither able to fulfill its function fully without the other. If Thought requires a medium of expression, Language needs ideas to express. It is within this framework that I use the term Dramatic Language, under- stood to mean Language utilized for mimeto-rhythmic effect, most often a con- comitant of poetry. As Huizinga sees it, "all poetry is born of play--the sacred play of worship, the festive play of courtship, the martial play of the contest, the disputatious play of bragadoccio, mockery and invective, the nimble play of wit and readiness" (p. 129). We can discern in these mimeto-rhythmic activities the various poetic genres discussed in the Introduction. Accordingly, the components of Language to be distinguished are: Lexicon: or the relationship of vocabulary to tone-intent- action. What words are used? How are they used? Why are they used? In what way do they affect the reaction of the listener? Is there a specialized vocabularfl A particular semantic value? Olson says: "The history of poetry offers no evidence whatsoever that any word or style or device of language is M inadmissable to poetry, or that any is_p_er_se constitutive of poetry. Good poetry has been written in every conceivable kind of diction; conversely, the mere use of a given diction has never been sufficient in itself to produce poetry" (Tragedy, p. 258). Grammar: Versification: 48 Lexicon must be viewed in terms of the 13th century and much may be lost to the modern reader through the carelessness of a scribe, or ignorance of 0 meta- linguistic frame of reference which obscures a pas- sage or invites equivocal interpretation. or Morphology and Syntax, the form of words and their structural relationship to each other. Zumthor holds quite rightly that "'une poétique tient sa nature de la langue a Iaquelle elle s'applique" (p. 47). It has its roots in linguistics and depends for its effects on the language 's structural advantages or limitations. or the mimeto-rhythmic qualities of assonance, rhyme, cadence and meter, which dramatize Thought in the same way that gesture emphasizes Diction and music heightens Spectacle. Why, Huizinga asks, does man subordinate words to measure, cadence, rhythm, beauty, emotion? Because the verse form is the most satisfying means of expressing solemn and holy things. In virtually all human society, poetry precedes prose for its harmono-rhythmic beat not only moves man emotionally but intensifies his apprehension of Thought. Olson distinguishes verse as having two chief functions in the theatre: "--the acoustical one of making the words carry better. . .and the dramatic ‘s‘l I 03; . v A i ‘ .‘f" ll! 7 49 function proper of imitating as closely as possible the inflection, accents, and rhythms of Speech where these are signs of character, thought or emotion" (My, p. 259). R h e to r i c 01 Form : or devices of rhetoric, such as anaphora, divisio p‘e‘r verba, interpretatio per literas, annominatio, and others dealt with in Faral's work on the "arts poétiques" of the period, '4 as well as proverbs and proverbial expressions which Rutebeuf used widely. R h e to r i ca I Fig ures : or figures related to imagery, such as onomatopoeia, metaphor, metonymie, periphrase, hyperbole, analo- gy , synecdoche, allegory, prosopOpeia and others. The Rhetorical Form and Figures are the truly mimetic aspects of poetry, translating Word into Image and Symbol, embellishing Thought. Versification is the rhythmic aSpect of poetry, translating Word, Image, Symbol and Thought into beat and cadence. But it is the poet himself who, working within the limits of grammar and lexicon, manipulates Thought, Word, Image, Symbol and Versification into the art we call Poetry. And if, as in the case of Rutebeuf, he is a performer- poet, it is the Language-Thought entity to which we must address ourselves in our search for dramatic elements. '4E. Faral, Les arts poétiques du Xlle et XIIIe siecles (Paris: Honoré Champion, 1910). A a .e v i. K.» V C 50 With this in view, I shall seek to apply the above-defined criteria of Form Tone-Intent Genre Action Devices Language first to Rutebeuf's poems of serious intent; next to his poems of comic intent; and last and most fully to the poems of avowedly dramatic intent, to ascertain what elements occur, and the relationship that exists between Tone-Intent and Form, Genre, Action, Devices and Language. Further, I shall attempt to evaluate Rutebeuf's awareness of his audience and the concessions he makes to this aware- ness in his writing. In this way, I hape to assess in concrete fashion, the effect of performance on Rutebeuf's poetry. con“. '1 ‘h 1 ’1 CHAPTER 2 Poems of Serious Intent -- Crusade and Polemic In the foregoing chapter, we recognized two entities: Language-Thought and Tone-Intent, interpreted as follows: Language, as the MEDIUM of expression Thought, the IDEAS to be expressed Intent, the author's PURPOSE Tone, the MANNER of treating purpose We might, with equal justification have linked Language-Tone (medium and manner) and Thought-Intent (ideas and purpose), but to do so would be to neglect the basic interdependence established between Language and Thought and between Tone and Intent. These four elements, however linked, constitute the area of investigation in this study. We are looking for two things: (1) What dramatic elements may be discerned in Rutebeuf's poetry and what relationship, if any, they bear to Tone- Intent; (2) How language-Thought indicates the poet's awareness of his audience. In the next three chapters I shall deal with those poems in which the theme indicates the author's intent as serious, i. e. "having a high moral purpose, or arousing to action". Their emphasis is on the Thought expressed rather than on the performer. By theme and treatment, they are linked to the news commentator- editorialist-publicist function of the poet, and listed according to title, date, theme, and genre in Appendix A. 51 52 These are the poems which have earned for Rutebeuf the right to be con- sidered the premier poete engage of French literature. They underscore his sense of poetic mission, the need "pour agir sur les esprits, pour faire prévaloir une idée ou un sentiment, pour entrainer une adhesion" (F88, I, p. 47). His diatribes a- gainst man's vices and the Mendicant Orders, his antipathy to the Pape, his criti- cism (though not wholly disinterested) of Louis IX, his devotion to the Holy Virgin, reflect the prevailing preoccupations of his century. Perhaps it would be well at this point to consider the mental and spiritual attitudes of Rutebeuf's audience. Henry Osborn Taylor characterizes medieval man as "not spiritually self-reliant. . .Subject to bursts of unrestraint, he yet showed no intelligent desire for liberty. He relied on God or, more commonly, upon the super- natural. He also looked up to what he imagined the past to have been, and was prone to accept its authority. He was crushed in the dust with a sense of sin; he was ascetic in his deeper thought. He was also emotional and with heights and depths of emotion undreamed of by antiquity. He had no clear-eyed perception of the visible world. What he saw he looked upon as symbol; what he heard he under- stood as an allegory. For him reality lay behind and beyond, in that which the symbol symbolized and the allegory veiled."' In itself, reality had little to recommend it. Shelter, even in castles, was inadequate against the piercing cold. Famine, disease and pestilence stalked man's steps; his nights, black against feeble candleglow, masked untold terrors, wolves and demons. Small wonder that medieval man showed "an astonishing sensibility 'Henry Osborn Taylor, The Classical Heritage of the Middle Ages (New York: Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., 1957), p. 18. 53 to what were believed to be supernatural manifestations."2 Of what avail was human effort against uncontrollable forces? In an inimical world, where the Devil was as real as God, and as omnipresent, man recognized his impotence and accepted it. In the main, he considered himself incapable of salvation through his own merit, and relied on "the prayers of pious souls, . . .the merits accumulated for the benefit of all the faithful by a few groups of ascetics, and. . .the intercession of the saints" (p. 86). The fear of Hell was all-pervasive, and salvation the primary preoccupation of the times. In a world of absolutes and opposed extremes--Vice versus Virtue, Lamb against Viper, Sinner against Saint--Life wasgg_o_n, the Psychomachian struggle between God and the Devil for the possession of Man's soul. The sojourn on earth was seen merely as the novitiate which led to Judgment Day, and predeter- mined how one spent Eternity.3 2Marc Bloch, Feudal Society, trans. by L. A. Manyon (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961), p. 73. A less grim aSpect of life on earth is described in Huizinga: "Medieval life was brimful of play: the joyous and unbuttoned play of the people, full of pagan elements that had lost their sacred significance and been transformed into jesting and buffoonery, or the solemn and pompous play of chivalry, the sophisticated play of courtly love, etc. .. .That was the case wherever medieval civilization built directly on its Celto-Germanic past or on even earlier autochthonous layers. . . The initiation and dubbing of knights, the enfeoffing of a tenure, tournaments, heraldry, chivalric orders, vows--all these things hark back beyond the classical to a purely archaic past, and in all of them the play-factor is powerfully operative and a really creative force. Closer analysis would show it at work in other fields as well, for instance in law and the administration of justice with its constant use of symbols, prescribed gestures, rigid formulas, the issue of a cause often hanging on the exact pronunciation of a word or syllable. The legal proceedings against animals, wholly beyond the comprehension of the modern mind, are a case in point. In fine, the influence of the play-Spirit was extraordinarily great in the Middle Ages, not on the inward structure of its institutions, which was largely classical in origin, but on the ceremonial with which that structure was expressed and embellished" (pp. 179-180). .4 5-. .6 I 4 ~~I d 1 .b L“. a" 54 Such a society, as Bloch points out, has a vast indifference to terrestrial time (pp. 73-83). Judgment Day was thought to be close at hand. When a Paris preacher at the turn of the year 1000, predicted 1033 as the End of Time, the ma- jority of men could not identify the year "with any precise moment in the sequence of days. . . People unmindful of the passage of the seasons and the annual cycles of liturgy did not think ordinarily in terms of the numbers of the years, still less in figures precisely computed on a uniform basis" (p. 83). No accurate records were kept. Charters were undated. Numbers were hazy. "Regard for accuracy. . .res- pect for figures remained profoundly alien to the minds of even the leading men of that age" (p. 74). Perhaps also the passage of time was beyond their graSp because the instru- ments to measure it accurately were lacking. Waterclocks were costly, cumber- some and rare. Hourglasses were seldom used. Sun-dials did not function under cloudy skies. "To us, accustomed to live with our eyes turning constantly to the clock, how remote. . .seems this society in which a court of law could not ascer- tain the time of day without discussion and inquiry" (p. 74). By the beginning of the 14th century, counterpoise clocks came into use, bringing at last "not only the mechanization of the instrument, but, so to speak, of time itself" (p. 74). The same bland disregard applied also to terrestrial space. PeOple had only the remotest idea of geographical relationships, and no concern for them. In the Jeu de Saint Nicolas, for example, an Artesian tavern is within a stone's throw of an African battlefield and the messenger of the pagan king stops there on his way to call on the four emirs. Neither Jean Bodel nor his audience were the least bit disconcerted by this lack of geographical probability. Where :5. o.» :r T. ’1‘... 5‘3 ‘ .r'i so off 55 events occurred was not important. It was the events themselves that counted. This, then, was the world in which Rutebeuf plied his trade, catering to the tastes of a fairly wide social spectrum. Numbered among his patrons were Alphonse de Poitiers, brother of Saint Louis, King Thibaut V de Navarre (a com- petent trouvere in his own right) and his wife, as well as lesser members of the aristocracy. His voice was heard equally by the secular theologians of the Univer- sity of Paris, whose cause he championed in the controversy over Guillaume de Saint-Amour; the clerics of lower estate who frequented the taverns and dice games; the rich and the petty bourgeois with pretensions of grandeur; the people of the market place; the "ribauds de Greve". It was a motley public, composed of men and women avid for news and moral instruction, due in part to the improvement in the quality of education during the latter half of the 12th century, and its pro- liferation among the social classes. Based on the imitation of ancient models, the improved method gave men "a more efficient instrument of mental analysis than. . had been available to their predecessors", so that problems formerly discussed "only by a handful of learned men became the topics of the day" (Bloch, pp. 107- 108). Then, too, the manufacture of inexpensive paper from rags towards the end of the 13th century greatly facilitated reading and writing. Opportunities for schooling were also available to women (though to a much lesser degree) and not limited only to those destined to become nuns.4 This is some- what surprising in view of the widely-prevalent view that "Ie sexe faible" should be relegated to the kitchen, the nursery, and the bedroom, where She belonged. 4Edmond Faral, La vie quotidienne au temps de Saint Louis (Paris : 1956), p. 137. For a discussion of woman's lot in medieval society see pages 130-145. ..__ .- ,d.-' N" ’ 0d 1.. I1: U 43 ch FI" 1v 1 l ’6 I. 6. ~ :1,‘ v..- s. v -. ._. 56 Indeed, the attitude towards Woman in the 13th century was somewhat ambivalent. On the one hand, it was mysogynous. From the time of Prudentius, Eve was blamed for the loss of terrestrial paradise and her descendants viewed as temptresses and corrupters of the Sterling Sex.5 True, she had suffered equally at the hands of Ovid, who cast her in the role of procuress, sorceress, stepmother, faithless spouse, and other less-than-admirable roles (Faral, La vie quotidienne, p. 130). The agon between the sexes is timeless and that this natural rivalry should have existed also in the Middle Ages is not surprising.6 On the other hand, the Holy Virgin was wor- shipped as Ideal Woman, and there was a profusion of female saints held in high esteem. Faral makes a neat Carnelian distinction between the "femme forte" or "good woman" of the Marian image, and the "femme faible" of Biblical and Ovid- ian traditions (p. 131). Since the courtly tradition has no bearing on Rutebeuf's poetry, I shall not refer to it here. As has been pointed out in the Introduction (see page 9 above), the great- est proportion of the Rutebeuf poems which have come down to us are of serious intent. Their themes may be broadly classified as Crusade, Polemic, Sermon or Moralizing, and Marian Literature (see Appendix A, ii). Admittedly this is or- bitrary, since the Crusade poems contain polemic, are sermons in nature and structure and allude frequently to the Virgin. Still, their primary purpose was to preach the Crusades, and it is more useful to group the poems in terms of major 5Witness her treatment in the 12th century Jeu d'Adam, where she is de- picted as a prototype of medieval Woman, and her WIingness to cooperate with the Devil in order to gratify her appetites is made patently clear. 6This is exemplified in the 15th century Farce du Cuvier, where the wife and mother-in-Iaw play Xanthippe to poor Jaquinot's’Socrates. p. .a t't \- "I ‘E W {I " \ R ' '.”: K ,- ‘s.’ \ \ d \ i I '5 57 theme or characteristic, though it becomes quickly apparent that they overlap and cannot be isolated in treatment as they may be in genre. For this reason, this chap- ter will be devoted both to the Crusade and Polemic poems, since they have much in common so far as targets for diatribe, irony and satire are concerned. 1. Crusade Poems T H E M E S Admittedly, the twelve poems included in this group were destined for propaganda purposes: their intent was to persuade people to take up the Cross in a Holy War for which there was scant enthusiasm. The tone that permeates them is consistently serious and demonstrates the importance which the poet attached to his Cause. Salvation is at stake. He Speaks of Judgment Day: Chanson de Pouille Car Dieex est plains de charitei 28 Et piteux juqu'au Jugement. Mais Iors avra il tost contei Un conte plain de grant durtei : "Veneiz, li boen, a ma citei I 32 Aleiz, Ii mal, a dampnement'. (1. p. 433). Nouvelle Complainte 32 Diex est plains de misericorde Mais veiz ci trap grant restrainture : II est juges plains de droiture. Il est juges, fors et poissons 36 Et sages et bien connoissans : Juges que on ne puet plaissier (I, p. 498). He speaks of Heaven and Hell: Dit de Pouille 17 Conquerons paradiz quant le poons conquerre ; 21 Diex done paradix a touz ses bienvoillans : (1, p. 437). 41 Bien est foulz et mauvais qui teil voie n'emprent Por eschueir le feu qui tout adés emprant ; Povre est sa conciance quant de rien nou reprent ; Pou prise paradiz quanta ce ne se prent. (1, p. 438). 58 Nouvelle Complainte 303 Et faire d'un deable deus Par ce que enfers est trop seux. (1, p. 507). Complainte d'outremer Quar me dites par quel servise Vous cuidiez avoir paradis. 8 Cil le gaaignierent jadis Dont vous oez ces romanz lire Par la paine et par le martire Qui li cors souffrirent sor terre. (1, p. 444). He Speaks of Death: du roi de Navarre: 32 Mout en fait la mors a remordre Qui si gentil morcel a mors : Piesa ne mordi plus haut mors ; (1, p. 482). Eudes de Nevers 76 Quant la mors un teil home mort, Que doit qu'ele ne se remort De mordre si tost un teil conte? (1, p. 457). Voie de Tunes 105 Foulz est qui contre mart cuide troveir deffence : Des biaux, des fors, des sages fait la mars sa deSpance : La mors mort Absalon et Salemon et Sance : De legier despit tout qu'adés a morir pance. (1, p. 466). 117 Vous vous moquiez de Dieu tant que vient a la mort, Si le crieiz merci lors que Ii mors vos mart Et une consciance vos reprent et remort ; Si n'en souvient nelui tant que la mors Ie mort. (1, p. 468). Anseau de l'Isle Irez, a maudire la mort Me voudrai des or més amordre, Qui adés a mordre s'amort 4 Qui adés ne fine de mordre ; De jor en jor 9a et la mort Cels dont le siecle fet remordre ; Je di que si grant mors amort 8 Que Valmondois a geté d'ordre. (1, p. 514). These passages are memorable for their alliterative and phonological under- lining of the death theme, the mournful prolongation of vowel sounds, particularly the recurring annominatio on "mar", a favorite with Rutebeuf, an inveterate user of the device. (See F88 1, pp. 311, 317, 379; 2, p. 107 for further examples). 59 Annominatio is ornamental word-play, associative in nature, wherein syllables of similar sound but variant morphology, syntax or semantic value are juxtaposed or rhymed for rhetorical effect. It occurs when one or two letters in a word are added, suppressed, replaced or transposed to form another word, and may be a verb allied to a verbal noun of the same root. The lines cited above from Eudes de Nevers furnish a cogent example: Quant Ia mors un teil home mort Que doit qu'ele ne se remort 78 De mordre si tost un teil conte. (1, p. 457--italics mine) All the italicized words are based on the "mar" sound, but la mors is a noun; mort a verb of different meaning, to which a two-letter prefix is added, pro- ducing a verb of still another meaning, remort. In the next line, a two-letter suf- fix results in the infinitive of the first verb, mordre. This is a successful annominatio in that it enhances the imagery of the pas- sage and is consistent with its thought. The sting of Death is a well-worn image but here the poet adds remorse to the figure. Death, having "bitten", must be rernorseful to have stung such a man as the Count so early, while yet in his prime. Annominatio, however, may become excessive, deteriorating into mere wordplay, as in the Grands Rhétoriqueurs of the 15th century, who sacrificed meaning to sheer verbal diSplay. In less than skillful hands, the device may be a digression from the inherent meaning of a passage, or obscure it. Rutebeuf in his later years used annominatio judiciously to enhance rather than detract from a passage. But, having developed some good annominative groups, he perhaps overused them and we find the same ones recurring in his poetry. With repetition, they lose their effectiveness for the reader, although 60 they were doubtless much appreciated by his 13th century audiences, who saw in 7 them a demonstration of the poet's rhetorical virtuosity. IMPLEMENTATIO N Eleven of the twelve poems are monologues of the sermon type. Rutebeuf himself looked upon them as such: 171 Quar com plus en sermoneroie Et plus l'afere empireroie. (Complainte d'outremer, 1, p. 450). 365 Rutebués son sarmon define. (Nouvelle Complainte, 1, p. 509). He preached the Crusades from Papal directives or, as F88 point out, following some of the guidelines set forth by Humbert de Romans in a thesis on crusade preaching (1, p. 443). With a series of adroitly chosen imperatives, he exhorts to action: Complainte d'outremer: 16 Recommenciez novele estoire Servez Dieu de fin cuer entier 27 gage... 151.242; 5.1.1.1.; Fe}; (1, p. 445). Chanson de Pouille: 8 Ne refusons pas teil present. 25 Or ne scions deseSperei Crions merci hardiement ......................... (1, p. 433). 56 Preneiz la croix, Diex vos atant '. (I, p. 434). Dit de Pouille: 13 Or prenez a co garde, le groz et la menu 17 Conquerons paradiz quant le poons conquerre ; N'atendons mie tant meslee soit la serre. (1, p. 437). 7See Faral, Arts poétiques, pp. 91-97. Also, Regalado, Poetic Patterns, p. 211-229. 61 He eulogizes the heroes and martyrs of the Holy Land, holding them up to example: Thibaut de Navarre 76 Car ses semblanz et ses effors Donoit aux autres hardiesse. anues home de sa jonesse Ne vit nuns contenir si bel En buait, en estour, en cembel. (1, p.483). Alphonse de Poitiers 23 Et Iors resoit il son merite, Que Dieux et il sunt quite at quite. Ainsi fut le cuens de Poitiers Qui toz jors fu boens et entiers, Chevaucha cest siecle terrestre Et mena paradiz en destre. (1, p. 488). The figure of the good Knight Alphonse, astride the century, always "in the saddle" on the Side of the Right is a deft metaphor. Rutebeuf interrupts his eloquent rhetori- cal eulogy for a personal aside to the audience acknowledging the Count as his patron, and paying this graceful tribute: 37 Por ce qu'il me fist tant de biens_ Va vuel retraire un pou des siens. (1, p. 489). Geoffroi de Sergines 73 Moult amoit Dieu et sainte Yglise, Si ne vousist en nule guise Envers nului, foible ne fort, A son pooir mesprendre a tort. Ses povres voisins ama bien: Volontiers lor donoit du sien ; (1, p. 416). As a jongleur, Rutebeuf was very conscious of "largesse", and apenhanded- ness was a quality he prized highly for personal and professional reasons. He underscores his sermons with anaphora, reminiscent of litany: Comte de Poitiers 49 Se por ameir Dieu de cuer fin Dou bersuel juques en la fin, Et por sainte Eglize enoreir Et par Jhesucrist aoureir En toutes les temptacions, Et por ameir religions Et Chevaliers et povre gent, (1, p. 489). e?‘ I "," "a A 1- vd' ans: f «on? yv‘ q u m .b.«‘ 62 Complainte d'outremer 96 C'est vostre guerre et voz esfors, C'est vostre Diex, c'est vostre biens : Vostre peres i tret Ie fiens. (1, p. 447). and Biblical paraphrase: Complainte d'outremer 51 Jhesucriz dist en l'Evangile, Qui n'est de trufe ne de guile : " Ne doit pas paradis avoir Qui fame et enfanz et avoir Ne lest por l'amor de celui Qu'en la fin ert juges de lui." (1, p. 446). and ends them with prayer: Geoffroi de Sergines Or prions donques a celui Qui refuser ne set nului Qui Ie veut prier et amer 160 Qui por nous ot le mors amer De la mort vilaine et amere, En cele garde, qu'il sa mere Conmanda a l'evangelistre 164 San droit mestre et son droit menistre, Le cars a cel preudomme gart Et l'ame recoive a sa part. (1, p. 418). Dit de Pouille 53 Prions par le roi Charle : c'est por nos maintenir Par Dieu et sainte Eglize s'est mis au couvenir Or prions Jhesucrit que il puis avenir A ce qu'il a empris et son ost maintenir. (I, p. 439). Roi de Navarre: Pt'ions au Peire glorieuz 132 Et 0 son chier Fil precieus Et le saint Esperit encemble, En cui toute bonteiz s'asemble, Et Ia douce Vierge pucele, 136 Qui de Dieu fu mere et ancele, Qu'avec les sainz martirs le face En paradiz et Iou et place. (1. p. 485). Eudes de Nevers 169 Or prions au Roi glorieux Qui par son sanc eSprecieuIz Nos osta de destrucion, Qu'en son regne delicieuz Qui tant est doulz et gracieuz 174 Faciens Ia nostre mansion (1, p. 460). ’5') M... r\ was 63 Nouvelle Complainte Or prions au Roi glorieux Et a son chier Fil precieux Et au saint Esperit ensemble 360 En cui toute bonteiz s'asemble. Eta la precieuze Dame Qui est saluz de cars at d'arme, A touz sainz et a toutes saintes 364 Qui por Dieu orent painnes maintes, Qu'il nos otroit sa joie fine '. Rutebués son sarmon define. (1, p. 508). But the tone does not remain consistently pious, for the Crusade poems, in addition to propaganda and eulogy, contain social and political commentary, and have their fair share of invective: (1) against the King, whom he compares unfavorably with Charlemage in his treat- ment of the Knights: Complainte de Constantinople: 138 Li rois ne fait droit ne justize A Chevaliers, ainz les desprize and whom he criticizes also for placing his confidence in the Jacobins and the Cordeliers. En Ieu de Nainmon de Baviere Tient le rois une gent doubliere 144 Vestuz de robe blanche et grise. (1. p. 429). (2) against the Mendicants: Complainte de Constantinople: 109 Que sont les deniers devenuz Qu'entre Jacobins et Menuz Ont receiiz de testament De bougres por Ioiaus tenuz Et d'useriers viex et chenuz 114 Qui se muerent saudainement. (I. p. 428). (3) against the clergy, for dissipating Christ's patrimony in easy living and in gluttony: I... .. VJ t In "it 0| "~13: '. bg‘ie Complainte d'outremer: Nouvel le Complainte: 64 87 Ahi I prelat de sainte Yglise 93 Qui riens nule plus vous demande Fors bons vins et bone viande Et que la poivres soit bien fors. 109 Ahi I grant cler, grant provandier, Qui tant estes grant viandier Qui fets Dieu de vostre pance, 120 Cu vous lessiez Ie patremoine Qui est du sanc au Crucefi Mal le tenez je vous afi. 221 Clerc aaise et bien sejornei Bien vestu et bien conraei Dou patrimoinne au Crucefi 224 Je vos promet et vos afi, Se voz failliez Dieu orendroit, Qu'il vos faudra au fort endroit. (I. (1. (1. (4) against the knights, barons, tourneymen, Squires, and petty gentry: Nouvelle Complainte : Eudes de Nevers: Nouvelle Complainte: 245 Chevaliers de plaiz et d'axises Qui par vos faites vos justices, Sens jugements aucunes fois, 248 Tot i soit sairemens ou foiz Cuidiez vos toz jors einsi faire? 133 Chevalier, que faites vos ci? 138 Coument querreiz a Dieu merci Si la mors en voz liz vos tue? 145 Tourno't'eur, vos qu'atendeiz, Qui la Terre ne deffendeiz Qui est a votre creatour? Vous aveiz bien les yex bandeiz 135 Jone escuier au poil volage 144 Vostre eSprevier sunt trop plus donte Que vos n'iestes, c'est veriteiz; (1, (1. (1. . 447). . 448). . 504). . 505) . . 459). . 459). . 502). .4 I»- Q «.11: 2c 5. t ”I. .3... ll Av \ T. 65 (5) against the rich bourgeois, for their materialism and sharp business practices: Nouvelle Complainte : 281 Riche borjois d'autrui sustance, Qui faites Dieu de votre pance, 301 Vil acheteir et vendre chier Et uzereir et gent trichier Et faire d'un deable deus, Par ce que enfers est trop seux. Then, skillfully, he menaces them with the direst of fates. When their bodies have been laid underground, the ill-gotten gains they have amassed will be squandered by their children: 306 Quant li enfant sunt lor seigneur, Vez ci conquest a grant honeur : Au bordel ou en la taverne (1, p. 507). (6) against the temper of the times: Complainte d'outremer: 39 Ha '. rois de France, rois de France, La loi, la foi et la creance Va presque toute chancelant. (1, p. 445). 152 Li feus de charité est froiz En chascun cuer de cretien ; Ne jone homme ne ancien N'ont por Dieu cure de combatre. (1, p. 449). In view of the diatribe just cited, the fact that seven of the Crusade poems are "complaintes" is understandable. They are indeed laments in the ancient tra- dition, but they also point an accusing finger. The poet, his heart "triste et marri" (I, p. 459, v. 141) exhorts and deplores and prays and excoriates. There is one poem, however, which makes a pretense at mimeto-rhythmic action, in the form of a tengonu the Disputaison du croisé et du décroisé. Thirty stanzas (240 lines) long, the poem starts off with a narration by the poet (vv. 1- 40) of how he was riding in the neighborhood of Saint Remi, so deep in thought about 66 the plight of the poor Crusaders, that he lost his way, and stapped at a house to ask directions. There, he came across four knights who, having supped, were go- ing to hold a debate in a nearby orchard. Two of them yielded the floor to the other two: 25 Li dui Iaissent parleir les deux Et je les pris a escouteir (1, p. 471). and Rutebeuf listened to their arguments and reports them verbatim. One he tells us was a Crusader, and one was not. Then the poet disappears from the narrative except to indicate which one is speaking, and gives the audience the benefit of "their" words. All is symmetrical and fair, with the Crusader and the Un-Crusader alternating two stanzas apiece until stanza XXVI. The Crusader observes that if a man were to live to be a hundred, he could not accrue so much honor as if, fully repentant, he went in quest of the Holy Sepulchre. The Un-Crusader takes a more practical view, quoting an old proverb "Ce que tu tiens si tien '." and remarking that instead of selling land to finance a crusade it is wise to hold on to what you have,” since God does not expect a man to accept forty sous for a property worth 100. The Crusader points out that Paradise is not gained easily, witness the mar- tyrdom of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. The Un-Crusader retorts that you don't have to go overseas to gain Paradise and that he who does so is a fool. To which the Crusader replies: 105 Tu di Si grant abusion Que nus ne la porroit descrire Qui vues sans tribulation Gaaignier Dieu por ton biau rire : (1, p. 474). and his adversary answers that he takes a dim view indeed of those who preach 67 crusades from motives of self-interest and invites the "clerc et prelat" who draw their bounty from God to be the ones to avenge Him. The Crusader admonishes him to leave the clergy out of it and follow the example of the King of France who is preparing to go on another Crusade. Whereupon the Un-Crusader vouchsafes he would prefer to stay home with his neighbors, being an exemplary sort of fellow who wrongs no one, goes to bed early and loves his neighbors: 160 Je ne faz nul tort a nul home, Nuns ham ne fait de moi clamour ; Je couche tost si dor grant soume Et tieng mes voisins a amour ; (1, p. 476). The Crusader sighs, pityingly: 177 Laz '. ti dolant, la mars te chace, Qui tost t'avra lassei et pris ; and the Un-Crusader assures him that he has known many Crusaders who went over- seas good men and returned worthless. Besides, he insists, with true French chau- vinism: 193 Se Diex est nule part el monde, 11 est en France, c'est sens doute : Then, too, there is the fact that 199 . . .vostre meir est Si parfonde Qu'il est bien droiz que la redoute. (1, p. 477). Here, the Crusader runs over his quota, taking three stanzas for his final Speech. "You're afraid of the depth of the sea, " he scoffs, "but you have no dread of Death. What will you do when Death bites you? Whosoever would flee the flames of hell does not let prison, or battle, or leaving his family interfere with his salva- tion. " Whereupon the Un-Crusader, who has held out to the very end of v. 200, admits he has been thoroughly convinced by his adversary: . Is“; o'v' at! 68 226 La croiz preing sans nule delay. (1, p. 478). The arguments put forth in the poem represent the worldly and other-worldly orientations. Some interpreters see in the Un-Crusader's Speeches convincing argu- ments opposing the Crusades. Ham, for example, says, ". . . It is virtually impos- sible for me to believe that the Disputaison du croisé et du décroisé was written by a sympathizer with the crusade ideal" ("Renart le Bestorné", p. 48). Serper, al- though he feels that Rutebeuf personally regarded the Crusades as "une entreprise sainte" (see n 14, p. 3 above) nonetheless ventures the thought that "dans la pa- roles de l'opposant affirmant qu'il ne quittera pas sa terre natale pour aller courir I'aventure, on entrevoit une vague allusion a la naissance d'une opinion publique opposée aux croisades" (p. 95). From the tenor of the Crusade poems, one might suppose this was the case. Still, was it Rutebeuf's intent in the Disputaison to persuade his hearers by argument? I think not. Faral sets the date of the piece as between 1268-69, which would make it the eighth Crusade poem the poet had written. Four of the prior offerings had been complaintes, the other three being a chanson, a dit, and a voie. It seems quite likely that he might try to vary his techniques for getting the message to the audience. In a broad sense the tengon might be considered a poeme dialogué in that it enables the jongleur to play the roles of the two protagonists. The subterfuge of a debate was a useful means of giving a fresh approach to familiar material. Theoretically, a debate does not have a foregone conclusion. It makes possible the opposition of two points of view and a decision in favor of one of them. There is an element of suspense, and the audience listens more attentively to the ideas expressed, identifies with one or the other of the debaters, and even though 69 they are aware that it is a fiction and are fairly certain as to who the victor will be, there is still some small element of doubt until the final speech. As an attention- getting device, then, it had real value. Serper tells us that "Presque tous les critiques qui se sont intéressés a Rute- beuf se déclarent intrigues par la volte-face du 'décroisé' a la fin du poeme"(p. 94). It is my contention that the audience hardly expected the debate to go any other way. The arguments advanced were not important in themselves, the poem being simply the "medium" of the message. What counted was the outcome. An Un- Crusader was persuaded to take the cross, despite all the good arguments against the Crusades he was able to advance. The debate was simply a pretense to drama- ti ze the outcome. Two incidents in natural sequence form the Plot. While the author has no illusions that he is fooling his listeners, he is a good enough "raconteur" to invent a plausible prelude to the piece, so as not to insult his listeners by straining their credulity. They are playing a game, a tacit game, and both performer and spec- tator accept their roles. In the third line of the poem, he blames his absorption with the plight of the poor crusaders as the reason for his having taken the wrong road. Recognized by the audience as a "hard-sell" approach, this might even provoke a laugh. By the end of the third stanza, his scene is set and we have met the characters who are not real people at all, but the personifications of two points of view. The only portrait he gives us is a moral one. We know how they think, and their social class, little else. Rutebeuf has, however, given himself an oppor- tunity for mimesis. What individuality will he lend the two characters by the tonal- ity of his volce,.his gestures, or facial expressions? Could he not subtly discredit 70 the remarks of the Un-Crusader by over-playing him, or making him appear ridi- culous? A seasoned performer who knows how to manipulate his audience might well create the illusion that the Un-Crusader was becoming more and more con- vinced or at least affected by the arguments of his adversary, an illusion that can- not be conveyed by the written word. In my view, it is a performance piece and not an intellectual exercise. The dialogue has the authentic ring of conversation, a colloquial quality inherent in Rutebeuf's poems for, as Faral has said, his syntax has "Ie mérite du naturel, étant celle d'un homme qui parle plut6t qu'il n'écrit " (1, p. 59). He tells us at the outset that the Knights "bien sorent parleir frangais (v. 18), so that we expect an enlightened lexicon and rhetorical skill. It is interesting to note the use of the second-person pronoun. The Crusader uses the familiar "tu"; the Un- Crusader replies with "vous", and the use remains consistent throughout, which is not always true in medieval dialogue. Is this a subtle touch on Rutebeuf's part to lend greater respect and credence to the Crusader's viewpoint? The Disputaison is the only Crusade poem which may be said to have mi- metic form and contain any appreciable dramatic elements, the others all being rhetorical rather than dramatic in implementation. Even the faint attempt at allegory in the Complainte de Constantinople is prosopopeia, for Vainglcry is merely inveighed and does not play even a narrative role. Yet we might point out some opportunities for Diction in this passage, which I quote also for its lyric cadence and felicity of rhyme: 71 Jherusalem, ahi 1 ahi '. Com t'a blecié et esbahi Vaine Gloire, qui toz maus brasse '. 71 Et cil qui seront enva't' Si charront Ia ou cil Chat 78 Qui par orgueil perdi sa grace. Or du fuir '. la mort les chace, Qui Ior fera de pié eschace. Tart crieront : "Trahi '. Trahi '." Qu'ele a ja entesé sa mache, Ne jusqu'au ferir ne manace : Lors harra Diex qui le ha“:’. (1, p. 427). The exclamations "Ahi '." and "Trahi" could be intoned with a wail that would dra- matize their meaning. There is also the possibility of gesture, such as arm-flailing, or putting one '5 head in one's hands. Further on in the poem (v. 106) there is a similar reference to "Faussetez qui partout vole, " but here again there is no char- acterization, only symbol. Yet in taking advantage of gesture and declamation to intensify thought, Rutebeuf is following the principles of Rhetoric taught in the M. Fergusson, interpreting Aristotle, states these very well: "Rhetoric may be defined as the faculty of observing in any given case the available means of persuasion. . ." (Jowett's translation). He is thinking primarily of a public speaker, a lawyer, or statesman, whose action is "to persuade" his audience to adopt his opinion. He considers the various means the speaker may use to persuade his audience: his attitudes, his use of voice and gesture, his pauses--in short, such means as actors use. But his main attention is devoted to arts of language, from the most logical (proof and refutation) where the appeal is to reason, to more highly colored language intended to move the feelings (italics mine). The Rhetoric is an analysis of the forms offTTtought and Diction" which the action of persuading may take (Poetics, p. 26). The Crusade poems were fashioned to persuade, cajole, browbeat or shame people to take the Cross, to arouse them to action, and whatever dramatic elements the poet utilized in his performance were intended to embellish Thought, for the emphasis was on the Theme, not the Implementation. r... M e v"- ' ‘35 ‘tu ‘J’ I 'I 72 2. Polemic Poems The principal targets for the polemic poems were the Mendicant Orders, the Pape and the King, all of whom came in for their fair share of diatribe in the Cru- sade poems, also. Tied in with the newscaster-publicist-editorialist function of the poet, they are a cogent commentary on social, religious, and political aspects of life in the latter half of the 13th century. Nine poems are included in this cate- gory (see Appendix A, ii), and while their Intent is invective, their implementation has much in common with the Crusade poems discussed in the first part of this chapter. The Dit des Cordeliers is the earliest of the polemics for which a date-- 1249-- has been established. It appears to have been written at Troyes, rather than Paris, and Monsignor Pesce suggests that perhaps it was composed for the Cham- pagne Fair (p. 95, n 31). It merits our attention for two reasons. First, it espouses the cause of the Franciscans against an abbess and a priest who would keep them from moving inside the walls of the city, and praise for the Franciscans is a Rutebeuf rarity. Second, it gives some insight into Rutebeuf's poetic development. Possibly it was his first attempt at the news commentator-editorialist role. At any rate, while artistically competent, it does not have the finesse or assurance of his later efforts in the field, nor do we sense any impassioned involvement with the material. Written in strophic duodecasyllables, four-line stanzas, each based on one rhyme, it abounds in rich rhyme and annominatio, but one has the impression of a young jongleur, fresh from the rhetorical exercises of the University, putting the devices he has learned into practice. The metric flow which incorporates Rutebeuf's later annominatio into the unity of Thought and Language that enhance imagery is lacking. The effect is disjointed, for the annominatio stands out as an cl 73 entity in itself, rather than part of an integrated whole. For example: V En la corde s'entordent cordee a trois cordons ; A I'acorde s'accordent dont nos descordé sons ; La descordance acordent des max que recordons ; 20 En Er lit se dEtorcfent par ce que nos tortons. (I, pp. 231-32, italics mine). To the ear it has the effect of a tongue-twister, and the excessive use of the sound "ord" detracts from meaning, and becomes a vehicle for the performer's ability to pronounce the syllables, and a display of verbal cleverness. When this passage is compared with the "cord" group in Voie de Paradis (1, p. 360) particularly "En sa corde les trois cordons" (v. 564), it becomes clear that the poet has learned to Sharpen his word-play, to use it judiciously and with taste. The other instances of annominatio in Cordeliers are similar, as: XIII L'abeasse qui cloche la choiche dou clochier 50 Fist devant le venir, qu'i Ia vet'st clochier. (1, p. 234, II‘OIICS mine). although another "card" group is a bit more successful: VIII Menor sont apelé Ii frere de la corde. M vient au premier, chacuns d'aux S'i acorde, Que s'ame viaut sauver ainz que la mors l'amorde 32 Et l'ame de chacun qu'a Ior acort s'acorde. in that at least it is relegated to the end of each line, having the effect of rich, alliterative rhyme rather than incantation, enhancing rather than confusing Thought . Des Cordeliers yields the only example we have in Rutebeuf of interpre- tatio per literas, a rhetorical device popular in the Middle Ages, wherein each letter of a word is singled out and endowed with a quality linking it to the . . 74 significance of the whole. In this way, a stanza each is devoted to the letters M, E, N, O, with R missing, and they follow after four lines of symbolic eXpla- nation about the meaning of the Franciscan's knotted cord--to enable them to fla- gellate the Devil as they battle to save souls. The missing stanza might have served as a transition from the more general idea of Franciscan excellence to the specific situation of the poem, for in the following stanza, we find ourselves in front of the spice merchant's Sh0p beside the church, with no knowledge of how we got there. Here a lively scene detaches itself from the poet's verse as his cadence mirrors the movements of the abbess, ceaselessly clanging her bells to drown out Franciscan preaching, making off with the door, pre-empting the cheese intended as a gift for the friars, bustling busily about in her determination to keep the Enemy out of her church. It is a deft portrait of the medieval cliche about woman, noisy, meddling, spiteful, deceitful and unreasonable. The polemic is confined to the nuns and the parish priest Ytiers, who has vowed he would sooner eat leaves and twigs than permit the Franciscans to hear confession in his church (W. 93-96). As a parting Shot, Rutebeuf maliciously tells the priest well might he suffer it, consid— ering how many of the Church's biens he has diverted to enliven his relatives' marriage feasts and other family celebrations, so that "Li biens esperitiex est de- venuz terrestres" (v. 100). This telling comment ends the poem on a note of laughter at the priest's expense, accomplishing Rutebeuf's intent to discredit the idea by discrediting the man who expresses it. After the first invitation to "listen and hear" about the Cordeliers, Rute- beuf intrudes upon his audience with imperatives only four times. There are two first-person singulars, 12 first-person plurals, and two second-person plurals, so ”r: :rjet‘fj . .4 . 5.133% :3 Te .1, he 121’s cleve 121‘, over t m’rhyme c fro: id) of the .1395 olme me. In fl i191") he :W. l‘6), jlai‘r’llshme We the Ci 8" lOlse l 75 the orientation is largely "they and we", narrative and edifying. There are two exclamations, no interrogatives. The young poet, then, showed a gift for rhyme and ridicule and a zeal to display the rhetorical competence he had achieved in his university studies. For all its cleverness, the poem's lack of unity and metric flow lessen its impact on the audience. A comparison of Cordeliers with the Nouvelle Complainte reveals how, over the years, Rutebeuf learned to control and perfect his talent for barb and rhyme and rhythmic flow. Franciscans do not fare so well at his hands in the other polemics, as a study of the three Ordre poems will clearly Show. Les Ordres de Paris, Chanson des Ordres, and Des Béguines are linked by similarities of target, tone and Ian- guage aimed at the Mendicants and the King. Les Ordres opens with a prayerful tone. In the name of God the Spirit, who is Three-in-One, let me begin by saying what my heart dictates. And if I tell the truth, none can hold me in deSpite for it (W. 1-6). Charity grows cold. God disinherits those who have succumbed to the blandishments of the Devil. The Orders are the lords of Paris. They have taken over the City with their false pretenses. God guard Paris from evil, guard her from false belief '. Let her take care lest she be entrapped '. (vv. 7-24). Then, abruptly, all piety gone from his voice, Rutebeuf takes his hearers on a guided tour of the Mendicant Quarter, pointing out the habitats of the sisters and brethren. Over here, the Carmes. Strategically close to them, the Beguines. A raised eyebrow? A leer? At any rate, the innuendo intended is broadly conveyed. Next, the Jacobins. Over there, the Trois Cent Aveugles, One can see the pointed finger, the thrust of the head, hear the sardonic voice: a: .. A .can 15.... be Jhe I . ‘.s 76 85 Li rois a mis en un repaire (Més je ne sai pas por qoi faire) Trois cens avugles route a route. (1, p. 326). There follows an outrageously equivocal passage on the Filles-Dieu, whose reputa- tion was similar to that of the Béguines. "Although these 'daughters' are attributed to God, " says Rutebeuf, "I am unable to ascertain that God ever had any women in his life", but 109 Li rois a filles a plenté 116 Quar Ii rois des filles engendre Et ses filles refont auté (1, p. 327). We find the some thought expressed in the Chanson des Ordres: 55 Set vin Filles ou plus A Ie rois en reclus (1, p. 333). PUrporting to mean the nuns of the order, the expression "filles a plenté could be taken more familiarly, and undoubtedly was so understood by a public relishing the double entendre. The semantic significance of "fille" is "daughter" or "girl" and the poet neglects to qualify it by Dieu, subtly changing the sense of the word. This tongue-in-cheek connotation is further fostered by the use of the verb "engendre", which, while hardly applicable to the chaste Louis IX in a literal sense, yet evokes an amusing image of his fathering a proliferation of convents. There is a glimpse here of the jongleur's "méchante langue", a rarity in Rutebeuf's poems of serious intent, for the tone borders on the bawdy. One associates it rather with the "entertainment" poems in the performer tradition. To be entirely accurate, we might mention that his polemic is not directed at the Mathurins because, as he says, they consecrate a third of their income to ransaming prisoners in the Holy Land: in: ~s'n 0‘"). L -7. n’ 7' 77 126 Ci a charité nete et pure. 131 Bien oevrent selonc l'escripture (1, p. 328). Les Ordres has the same strophic form as Complainte de Constantinople and Eudes de Navarre: 12-Iine octosyllabic stanzas with an a a b a a b b b a b b a rhyme scheme, but the versification of the Chanson des Ordres is unique in Rute- beuf. Composed of thirteen hexasyllabic four-line stanzas, constructed on an a a a b rhyme scheme, followed by a two-line refrain, rhyming "c b", it has a Goliardic quality reminiscent in rhyme scheme and refrain, if not in meter, to Veris dulcis in tempore : Veris dulcis in tempore Florenti stat sub arbore luliana cum sorore. Dulcis amor '. Qui te caret hoc tempore, Fit vilior.8 He has taken a gay, light-hearted meter: Papelart et béguin Ont Ie siecle honi. contrasting its lilt with dour content--"Bigot and Beguine did the century demean" —-stril< se marie The poem closes with the admonition: 19 Mais n'en dites se bien non: (I, p. 335). because the King will not allow anyone to speak evil of them, which, of course, Rutebeuf has just neatly managed to do. 80 One wonders at the audacity of the poet where Louis IX was concerned. As Serper says, "II para’i‘t évident que Rutebeuf n'aime pas saint Louis et qu'il n'hésite nullement a le dire ouvertement. Nous constatons aussi que toutes les pieces 00 on releve des traits satiriques a I'adressed du roi datent de la meme époque que la diatribe contre le roi provoquée par son attitude dons I'affaire de 9 Guillaume de Saint-Arnour" (Poete Satirique, p. 90). We are talking of the period between 1257 and 1263, as nearly as the poems can be dated. Certainly, the portrait of the King that emerges in Rutebeuf's verse is less complimentary than that of Joinville. Accustomed to the tableau of Louis IX dispensing justice under the old oak tree in the Vincennes woods, we are somewhat startled to view the monarch with Rutebeuf's eyes. Monsignor Pesce raises the question that perhaps some personal affront or rebuff, suffered at the hands of the King, was responsible for "Ie ton meme d'irritation et d'apreté " (p. 64). According to Ham, "Rutebeuf and Joinville agree about certain of the royal shortcomings. . .Whereas Joinville, however devoted and kindly, leaves the reader with no doubt about the king's religiously benighted fanaticism, this is something about which Rutebeuf intimates concern only by implication. He nowhere engages in subtleties regarding religious fervor or anything else in that area : his preoccu- pation is exclusively with the wrongs which he attributes to royal policies and to the counselors who promote them" ("Rutebeuf and Louis IX", pp. 33-4). The poet's antipathy to Louis IX appears to stem from his treatment of 9For the details of this controversy, see F88 I, pp. 80-82; also Arié Serper, "L'lnfluence de Guillaume de Saint-Amour sur Rutebeuf", Romance Philology, (1963) t. 17, 391‘402- . ; ill C "5.511 5,3}6 3.355514: 1‘0 le 1;) tell us it“ Mne King male, llle ziicance in‘ iathe Pie" ‘smre, llte intone CO" “my, W5C 113 Guillaur t: Monarch 81 Guillaume de Saint-Amour in the University battle with the Mendicants . It is in the Dit de Guillaume de Saint-Amour that the poet shows us an aspect other than the just, subject-loving, saintly king described in Joinville's chronicles. Here, Rutebeuf quotes a purported conversation between Guillaume and Louis IX: 75 Mestre Guillaumes au roi vint, Si dist : "Sire, nous sons en mise Par le dit et par la devise Que le prelat deviseront : 80 Ne sai se cil la briseront." Li rois jura : "En non de mi, 11 m'avront tout a anemi S'il la brisent, sachiez sanz faille : Je n'ai cure de lor bataille." (1. p. 246). F88 tell us that this passage is the only indication we have of such an audience with the King, and it may be a one-sided account of the encounter. But if it is accurate, then Louis swore falsely (and the verb "jura" had a solemn, binding sig- nificance in the feudal code). For the King did not keep his word to Guillaume that the prelates would have him to reckon with if they broke the agreement. What is more, the poet insists, he never gave Guillaume the fair hearing he promised, and one can only conclude, therefore, that either the King was the dupe of the Papacy, whom he was reluctant to flout, out of piety, or he was unjust in condemn- ing Guillaume without listening to his side of the story. Neither alternative places the monarch in an appealing light, 27 Car rois ne S doit pas mesfere. (1, p. 245). An analysis of Rutebeuf's criticism of Louis IX shows that, in one way or another, it is connected with the Mendicant Orders, arch enemies of Guillaume. In the Ordres poems, as we have seen, he decries the King's financial and ,1 :‘-- 82 political support of the Mendicants. Surely the money spent to subsidize them could have been put to better use in the Holy Wars. Even when he upbraids the King in the Complainte de Constantinople for his shabby treatment of the chevaliers, he does so with respect to the Mendicants who gain by this treatment. If the King had followed Charlemagne's footsteps, he would not have placed his trust only in the Mendicants, alienating himself from his Knights, failing to accord them their rightful position in his court, imprisoning them unjustly. While, as Serper points out, this may well have been a bid on Rutebeuf's part for the goodwill of the nobles, (Poete Satirique, p. 89), it is primarily aimed at the Mendicants. Indeed, the burden of Rutebeuf's criticism of his ruler appears to be that he has allowed himself to become the patsy of the Friars. Ham expresses it well: "It is clear that, as Rutebeuf judged the political situation during the final two decades of the reign, Louis IX impressed him as a credulous fanatic in terms of crusades and religion, and also as a ruler with the kind of dictatorial arrogance which was successfully played upon by the venal self-servers whom he so unwittingly admitted into his intimate counsel" (p.34). There remains the problem of Renart le Bestorné. F88 date it in 1261, and see it as anti-Mendicant. Ham has built a plausible case for the year 1268-69, and claims it as anti-crusade. Using the characters of the Roman de Renart, Rute- beuf doubtless attacked personnages readily identifiable to his public, but tho- roughly obscure to modern scholars. Noble was clearly intended as the King, but who was Renart? Ysengrin? Bernart? Roniel? Faral believes they represented Mendicant advisers and that Rutebeuf was railing against the King's austerity pro- gram in the face of the Tartar menace which caused him to "manger a portes fermées" II. 11. 1d ub' 83 even on feast days (1, p. 532). Why, then, asks Ham, the veiled anonymity of a fable, particularly since Rutebeuf has taken many a prior job at the King without attempt to dissemble? It is a good question. Ham proposes Charles d'Anjou in the role of Renart, placing the time of the poem as prior to Louis IX's departure for the Tunis Crusade. If indeed this interpretation is correct, then it would appear that Rutebeuf was warning the King against embarking on the Crusade and that, after having preached the Crusades over a 20-year period, he could not come right out and say so as Rutebeuf. Of course, it is possible that Rutebeuf, while himself in favor of the Crusade cause, knew that public opinion was against them, and that the King was courting disaster in undertaking a holy pilgrimage at that particular moment, in view of the general political situation at home. Yet it is also possible that the nature of his criticism of the King was such that the use of a lightly veiled fable seemed the better part of valor. Rutebeuf does not name himself, but pre- serves a narrator's anonymity. One wonders which of the two possibilities was sufficiently galling to the poet to engender so virulent an attack on Louis IX. Since Rutebeuf has made it abundantly clear that he had little use for the King ever since the Guillaume de Saint-:Amour exile, he would look with jaundiced eye at whatever Louis did, for Rutebeuf, if he were a loyal friend, was certainly an implacable enemy. In the latter years of the century, life was becoming increasingly hard for the jongleur and in the event that other nobles were following the kingly example of belt- tightening, Rutebeuf might certainly have been incensed at being deprived of one of the jongleur's prerogatives--the right to sing for his supper--doubtless sufficiently incensed to lash out at the King, blaming his religious advisers whom ‘H t' .f 1);: S: a. .i F1 r m 1 RI 5‘13 a .1... n 1,... .1. .4... 1Q h. .. . 1 . o . 3. MW . E . AL KID. 4.... \ 1 n 34 he considered responsible for the King's actions. If indeed it were written in 1261, as Faral believes, it would fit the dates of the other diatribes against the Friars (see Appendix 8, iii). Versification may also provide a clue as to dating. Renart Ie Bestorné is written in the "tercet coué", a verse form which starts with three octosyllables having the same rhyme, followed by a quadrisyllable introducing a new rhyme, which appears again in the next two octosyllables, and so on: aaabbbc ccd dde, etc. It is not clear whether Rutebeuf invented the verse form (although many experts, including Grace Frank give him credit for it) but certainly he handled it skillfully, with smooth metric flow and rich rhyme. A discussion of the incidence of the tercet coue in Rutebeufas well as a conjecture as to dating may be found in Appendix B which attempts to shed further light on the problem. Both Faral's and Ham's interpretations hinge on a knowledge of the dramatis personae of the piece, and while experts may conjecture plausibly, we cannot know under present circumstances when it was actually written, or the identity of Renart and his animal sycophants. There is little doubt, however, that the diatribe is aimed at the King. In all probability, Renart le Bestorné was published in pamphlet form, and appreciated by an audience who could readily identify the human counterparts of Noble's ménage. Yet there is nothing to preclude its having been 0 performed piece as well, perhaps before a restricted audience. The opening lines are a skillfully balanced anaphora: 1 I‘D-g “ T . adv.d 3'55: 85 Renars est mors : Renars est vis '. Renars est ors, Renars est vils : 3 Et Renars regne '. (1, p. 537). in which the octosyllabic couplet is divided into four quadrisyllables, the first and third and second and fourth rhyming, which blend in with the normal quadriSyIlabIe of the third tercet coué line, giving us in effect five. The next image evokes Renart galIOping on horseback, neck outstretched, speeding himself and the realm towards disaster. The figure of the "stretched neck" carries over to the following lines: 7 L'en le devoit avoir pendu. (1, p. 538). He whose neck should have been stretched on a gallows is now lord of all Noble surveys: 13 Et de la brie et du vingnoble. (1, p. 538). Ham sees "brie" as a capital "8", denoting Simon de Brie, or de Brion, "from whom Louis IX received the crusader's cross in March, 1267" ("Renart Ie Bestorné, p. 22). F8. 8, stating that Brie was not part of the royal domain, say "L'association champs et vignobles, blé et vin, est naturelle" (1, p. 538 n 13). Is there a possible association with the Scottish word "brae", which would incline towards F8B's interpretation? At the outset, Renart seems to be the villain of the piece, but it soon be- comes clear that Rutebeuf holds Noble accountable for the misdeeds of his four "counselors". He chages Noble with avarice. He invites his listeners to tell him what they think of Sir Noble who keeps all his subjects from setting foot in his house "aus bons jor ne aus bones festes". A withering simile accuses Noble of being as artless as a log-carrying donkey from Senart. One metaphor claims his (It :51 l .:__ ..,,_, I"! {H I..." 86 eyes are blindfolded, while another refers again to his posturing in solitude: 113 Quant me sires Nobles pasture, Chascuns s'en ist de sa pasture, Nus n'i remaint: (1, p. 542). and the adjective "lontaingnes" (v. 146) further stresses the isolation of Noble from "ces povres bestes". Certainly, the persistent figure of the King, barring his subjects from house and table seems to lend credence to the Faral interpreta- tion. If only Noble knew what they were saying about him in the streets, the poet hypothesizes, giving himself an opportunity to mimic the voices of 40 Dame Raimborc, dame Poufile, Qui de lui tienent Ior concile, Ca dis, 9° vint. (1, p. 541). and pantomime their gestures and stance. The use of the specific names and characterizations dramatizes "gossip", personalizes the public opinion for the audience. Another reference to the stinginess of the King towards the end of the poem is evoked in a proverb: 152 Quar d'un proverbe me sovient Que l'en dit : tout pert qui tout tient. (1, p. 544). Things have come to such a pass, he says in the final lines, that all the beasts wish for the coming of the "once", a fearsome, apocryphal beast of the Spotted cat family whose advent in the Roman de Renart would rid Noble's court of all animal malefactors, perhaps even of Noble himself. '0 Since the audience was familiar 'OFora discussion of the possible interpretations of "once", see Ham, "Renart le Bestorné, pp. 28-9; also F88, 1, p. 544, n 157. f1 87 with the Roman de Renart, the possibility of the King's being included in the holocaust was certainly not lost on them. The idea is further expanded upon in the ensuing lines: Se Nobles gopoit a la roinsce, De mil n'est pas un qui en gronce : 160 C'est voirs sanz faille. (1, p. 544). If Noble were to stumble and become impaled on the briars, he concludes, there is not one in a thousand who would mourn, I tell you truly. Such conjecture as to possible disaster overtaking Louis IX occurs on several occasions in Rutebeuf (cf. Bataille des Vices, 1, p. 309, v. 109; Ordres de Paris, 1, p. 326, v. 82) , usually with reference to what would happen to the Mendicants and the sister orders if the King should die. One gets the impression that, in accord with Noble's subjects, the poet would have no tears to shed for the departed. Serper makes an interesting observation in this connection. Nowhere in the poems is there any reference to Louis IX'S actual death in 1270. Yet, the Complainte du roi de Navarre and the Complainte du comte du Poitiers were written in 1271, and "le déces de ces deux personnages était intimement lié a la croisade de Tunis, comme celui de saint Louis. L'absence de toute mention, surtout dans le poeme commémoratif de la mort du frere du roi, est caractéristique de l'hostilité que Rutebeuf a toujours nourrie a I'égard de Louis IX" (p. 91). The tone is angry, indignant, biting and relentless. In Spite of the animal roles, the poem is rhetorical rather than dramatic, the fabled names carrying with them ready-made character connotations which Rutebeuf need not delineate. Still, Renart, Ysengrin, Bernart and Roniel do not escape the poet's darts, individually and collectively. Anaphora again singles them out accusingly: I I 13:12pm all); for Rer eds "the: Jarrez" . tuled'ictio IE l'amle here are < which are non»). We pg) 3815st IT 88 Cil quatre sont fontaine et doiz, Cil quatre ont l'otroi et la voiz 106 De tout l'osté. (l, p. 542). and again negates their humanity: Quar il sont sanz misericorde I39 Et sainz pitié, Sanz charité, sanz amistié. (l, p. 543). calling forth a curse upon them: "Diex les confonde" (v. 148). Renart le Bestorné is largely third person, as befits a diatribe oriented to- wards "them". There are only three imperatives, two directed at the audience --"orrez" and, ten verses later, "Or entendez" (v. 84)--the third being the malediction cited above. The poet intrudes l0 times, in such phrases as "Si come je l'avoie entendu", "Je ne sai que dire", “Quant i'oi parler. .Quar ie voie. . .". There are only two first-person plurals, and three second-person plurals, two of which are in the rhetorical question cited above, "Que dites vous que il vous samble"(v. 55). For all its seeming narrative at the beginning, Renart le Bestorné is pure polemic and non-mimetic, although I have tried to indicate such opportu- ni ties as may exist for Diction. In the few instances where Rutebeuf makes uncritical reference to Louis lX, he writes conventionally and with little fervor (as in the Disputaison du croizé et du décroizé), more with respect to his position as ruler of the realm than to him personally. For the most part, however, the polemic against the King is consistent. The least uncomplimentary criticism that may be drawn from the poet's portrayal of Louis IX is that he was a little too gullible for his own good. At worst, he was lacking in perspicuity, untrustworthy, weakly subservient to the Papacy, isolated from all but malign influences. Tne 5:2: some cr cisr'eiitori Page, the l Efifihc camigw o 35?? Did in liver of the “5 "pmlitle: l", P- 33} If r'r '35:: layol “‘9 and th 'E'lect PGFS: mm" ,0 5% 05min u imploims ' “V5 Been t fill the Kl: i T ll? likely l 89 The obviously propagandistic intent of the polemic and Crusade poems has led some critics to raise the question of Rutebeuf's sincerity as a newscaster-publi—l cist-editorialist. What were his real sentiments towards the Mendicant Orders, the Pope, the King, the Crusades, or even towards Guillaume de Saint-Amour? Was he merely a public relations man paid to "add his talents to the propagandistic campaign already being carried out by the Mendicant Preachers" (Regalado, p. 35)? Did he, as Ham proposes, give "no more than perfunctory lip-service in favor of the renewed struggle in the Holy Land. . .", regarding any further crusading as "profitless we, and also as critically damaging to France" ("Rutebeuf and Louis IX", p. 33)? If the polemics are taken at face value, it certainly appears that Rutebeuf was a loyal friend to Guillaume de Saint-Amour, and an implacable enemy to the King and the Mendicants. Yet Mrs. Regalado maintains that these poems do not reflect personal conviction, since Rutebeuf was paid by the "University secular masters" to carry the polemic against the Mendicants to the people (p. 67), though she admits "they could hardly have been lavish patrons, since we find frequent complaints in the 13th century that theology paid badly" (p. v). Might the pay have been better on the other side of the controversyf? Surely, being in accord with the King and the Pope was healthier as the last lines of the Dit de Guillaume de Saint-Amour intimate: Endroit de moi vous puis ie dire Je ne redout pas le martire De la mort d'ou qu'ele me viegne, 120 S'ele me vient por tel besoingne. (l, p. 248). Is it likely that a man would lay his life on the line for "poor pay", or are these 3; :nvlcl rials by 5 servlte 0'; 556 lb llg blwlilt ll {11? Was "ll :cet likel 31'er expr 1;. 67) Charisma? fixings, wl Tc finiss hir 3211' m, flatlrecC 90 last verses merely skillful rhetoric? Although we know him only as a poet, there was a man named Rutebeuf (Ham's contention of a multiplicity of Rutebeufs has been fairly thoroughly dis- counted). He must have been a man very like other men, with similar appetites, desires, foibles and failings. Can we deny him, as a man, any personal sentiment or conviction because, as Mrs. Regalado says, "Like the knights who fought in trials by combat to defend causes not their own, the poet wields his pen in the service of others“ (p. 67)? The knight, however, was his own man and could re- fuse to fight, or choose the cause he would champion. Why did Rutebeuf cast his lot with the University’? Because the King and the Mendicants did not offer to pay him? Was his soul for sale as well as his pen? "In every case, " Mrs. Regalado goes on, "a political poem by a professional poet like Rutebeuf can be shown to pre-suppose a group or a man advocating the ideas expressed and willing to pay for such works, and a pre-conditioned public" (p. 67). Soit '. But what pre-conditioned a public? Mere talent as a performer? Charisma? Or identification with a man who made sense, who stood for the "right" things, who told the truth as he saw it, and told it well? To say that Rutebeuf would take any side he was paid to take is not only to dismiss him as an unprincipled hack but to negate his value as a molder of public Opinion. Perhaps he was a consummate actor. Perhaps he was so gifted a polemicist that he could take whatever side he chose and persuade the public to his cause. Still, he could make that choice only once, for a paid performer has to proiect an image of himself which must be consistent if he is to influence the public. A man must be respected to do that. And to be reSpeCted, he must stand for something. It ‘- ri‘izls the 53,"! in SW and K519 re Psbmle i . O (.sz 5“] llL 9* or the £33158 f0] us as We are A C‘ Tswalch I c 72 °b°w imply ’° Ch 52 P0" see .qected in 5.5055655! mien Of The In mi muesflon ‘ tis clnpler - Realism“: trial, hE TT 4: if) ”16 C16 . (‘ .i'r 13k «3f flti 9] It is not so much in the subject matter as in his treatment of it that the poet reveals the man, in the images he chooses, in what he omits as much as in what he says, in style and tone. For me, at least. Rutebeuf's diatribes against Mendicants and King resound with the devastating imagery of personally-felt scam. The passionate intensity and indignation in the Saint-Amour poems ring true. I doubt that, skillful as he was, Rutebeuf could have struck so sincere a chord on the other side of the controversy. Would Victor Hugo have been able to write an encomium of praise for Louis Napoleon? And if he had, would it have had the power to move us as we are moved by the death of Leopoldine? A case in point is the Dit des Cordeliers, discussed earlier in this chapter, in which I commented on the poet's lack of personal involvement with his material (p. 72 above). Here he plays the role of a neutral newscaster, whose function is simply to chronicle the event, holding himself aloof from the controversy. Since the poet seems to give only lip-service to the Franciscan cause, his detachment is reflected in our own indifference. While we laugh at the antics of the priest and the abbess, the result is petty polemic, a far cry from the post-Saint-Amour excori- ation of the friars. In my view, polemic to be effective must be born of conviction. There is no question as to where Rutebeuf stands in the other eight polemics dealt with in this chapter. A master of invective, he exposes to the most withering ridicule the Mendicants, the Pope and the King. His bias is blatantly apparent to his listeners. Indeed, he makes no pretense at neutrality. Across the centuries, his voice rings out to me clearly, and I believe him. The words of the poet pinpoint the moral outlook of the man. I believe his poems reveal him as a religious traditionalist of rs}.di:e 0g m: :plty "@350 l‘h< 9:55 pOlEn this we”) Rute '"Y did not :Mflolnfe ( \ "mans H hale: "Onsl DnCedes ”K l'U'ebeufu We}.1 92 his time, "for" God, and "against" the Devil. I think he had faith in Salvation through the intercession of the Virgin and the saints--that this belief lent a fervor to the Crusade poems which he could not simulate--that he had a deep-rooted preiudice against the Mendicants, an intense antipathy to the King, and a respect and loyalty for Guillaume de Saint-Amour. .While I agree completely with Mrs. Regalado that Rutebeuf's personal beliefs are not of critical moment in the study of the polemic poems, I cannot deny him the right to have them, or to reveal them in his poetry. Rutebeuf's real feelings about the Crusades have also been questioned. Why did not he himself take the Cross, since he preached it so ardently’? In the Complainte de Constantinople, we find these lines: 29 Autre secors ne lor puis faire Que ie ne sui més horn de guerre. (l, p. 425). Advancing the theory that perhaps Rutebeuf was too old to bear arms himself, Foulet translates "més" as "no longer". Ham concurs in this translation: "Rutebeuf concedes that he is no longer a man of war" and goes on to ask "had he ever been?" ("Rutebeuf--Pauper and Polemist", p. 230). We have no way of ascertaining Rutebeuf's age at the time he wrote the Complainte, but we can make a few assumptions. Let us say he was in his Menties when he wrote the earliest poem we can date, the Dit des Cordeliers, established as 1249. The Complainte is dated 1262, so that he might have been in his thirties or, at the most his forties then. But he says, in the Complainte d'outremer: 154 Ne ione homme ne ancien N'ont por Dieu cure de combatre. (l, p. 449). The fact that he includes "old men" among those who have no thought for combat T ai' 555m '0 l gyfeor, l.O'J mli therefor raring, "l 0 2.5, I125)he zmliier, t brex'ortatio: Sawlchre. T a?! qobobilit) ‘: cause was As to ' zl'lom sugges :‘hly, as c g legalodo sugg C‘usades, yet "l P05510n if "dupossible ”m (2, 1% 93 would seem to indicate that he recognized no age limit on "horn de guerre". In that year, Louis IX was 48 years old, and was considering a second Crusade. I would therefore incline towards the F83 translation of "més" as "aucunement", meaning, "I am not in any way a soldier". On many other occasions (see above p. 6, n 25) he has insisted that he knew no other "métier" save writing. Unskilled as a soldier, he would be of little use on a battlefield, but he could devote his gift for exhortation to in5piring others so skilled to go overseas and fight for the Holy Sepulchre. This may sound like a weak argument--"You fight, I'll write"--but in all probability Rutebeuf really believed that the best contribution he could make to the cause was in the area of recruitment, and that "autre secors ne lor puis faire". As to whether he personally believed in the Crusades or considered them, as Ham suggests, "pl’ofitless_pfls_e_", a case might be made for either side. Cer- tainly, as a gifted M who had the ear of the people, he might, as Mrs. Regalado suggests (p. 35), have been paid by the Church of Rome to preach the Crusades, yet here again would he have preached them with the same intensity and passion if he had not personally believed what he was saying? I think we may find a possible clue in La Vie de Sainte Elysabel, the longest of the Rutebeuf poems (2, 196 lines) written at the behest of Erart de Lézinnes: 2175 Mesire Erars la me fist fere De Lezignes, et toutes trere* *used in the literal Du latin en rime frangaise, sense of "traduire" Quar l'estoire est bele et cortoise. (2, p. I66). This must have been a very tedious task for the poet, translating 0 long Latin manuscript into French verse. As F8.B comment, "Il est évident qu'il s'est "OUVé gané, pris entre le désir de faire plus court at l'obligation de tenir compte inD pl oblige 0 mean nhpémir ember Om hmoedb) hmwmh imhmm ‘I'Jl demons $flbb| '“W%% 94 du latin. D'autre part, si habile versificateur qu'il fut, la forme de l'octosyllabe, qui oblige a du remplissage, I'entral‘nat a des déviations. De la des passages 00 son texte, réduit mécaniquement a la notation aride de quelques éléments, ne se- rait guere intelligible sans le secours du latin; de la aussi des phrases or: l'ordre des mots est forcé" (2, p. 65). One senses that, far from being in command of his material, the poet is frustrated by it. Apart from the dullness of subiect matter, the interminability of the account, the monotonous versification (octosyllabic rhyming couplets) and forced rhyme, would lull even a well-disposted audience to somnolence. Rute- beuf demonstrates that he is fully aware of this. In what seems to be a desperate effort to hold contact with his listeners, he intrudes personally in 41 out of a total of 66 pages, with such comments as: 116 Que vous iroie plus rimant? (2, p. 104). 244 Endroit de moi ie croi en ce (2, p. 108). 337 Encor vous di ie de rechief (2, p. 111). 485 Or entendez de son afere (2, p. 116). 529 Plus le fesoit, que vous diroie Que dire ne vous oseroie (2, p. 117). 778 Ne cuidiez pas que ce soit guile (2, p. 124). 803 Encor vous di, seignor, aprés (2, p. 125). 921 Je di por voir, non pas devine (2, p. 129). 1000 Or orrez la tierce partie (2, p. 131). 1055 Et por ce dist ce Rustebués : Qui a bués bee si a bués. (2, p. 133). 1560 Que vous diroie? (2, p. 148). His fibre to so we been : He slows o of His audle s, ”'1'" Was , ‘0: I' & Seen 1 l , . si' . ils“ '33.», "310 95 His apologetic, almost diffident, tone says to his hearers, "Much of what I have to say is unimportant, but bear with me, for this is an edifying tale and l have been commissioned to write it: 13 Quar autre labor ne sai fere" (2, p. 101). He shows a great preoccupation with length, brevity, and the possible boredom of his audience: 192 225 374 789 985 988 1371 1914 2049 Le Prologue briefment achieve, Que ma matire ne destruie : L'en dit que biau chanter anuie. Or m'estuet brief voie tenir. Ne vous vueil pas fere lonc conte : Et autres veus fesoit assez Dont anuis seroit a retrere Et i'ai moult autre chose a fere. Que vous iroie ie aloignant Ne mes paroles porloignant? Se i'estoie bons escrivains* Ainz seroie d'escrire vains Que i'eiisse dit la moitié De l'amor et de l'amistié Que Dieu moustroit et ior et nuit Et ie dout qu'il ne vous anuit (2, p. 131). Que vous feroie langue rime? Or avez 01' en quel guise Vesqui ; encore i a assez (Mes ie sui d'escrire lassez) Anuiz sambleroit a retrere Que vous conteroit tout l'afere. (2, p. 107). (2, p. 108). (2, p. 112). (2, p. 125). *the same lines ap- pear with slight varia- tion in Un Dist de Nos- tre Dame andSacris- tain, but here t ey seem more than rhetorical ly modest. (2, p. 142). (2, p. 158). (2. p. 162). That he was aware of the difficulty of sustaining interest even at the beginning, may be seen from the following passage, which reveals more than chauvinism in its reluctance to confound his hearers: In it 1111 rel igiou: I'Egpfienne for): results-2c ‘IO‘JveIIe Cc .‘ islerences m The l ind surpasses Iin Sainte \u. 131 represen 116qu Ieng Suites, pm In 15 eye! In IC 1.. b "35 Oncp l' "55 The 11 .Cid by ll1€ I 1835:135on 96 80 Se il ne fussent Alemant Les nommaisse, més ce seroit Tens perduz, qui les nommeroit. Plus tost les nommaisse et aincois Se ce fust Iangages frangois; (2, p. 103). In Sainte Elysabel, we have an example of Rutebeuf's treatment of the life and religious works of a saint, a subject he treated successfully in Sainte Marie I'Egyptienne. Yet, obviously, he did not feel qualified to handle it, and his ef- forts resulted in a dull and undistinguished poem. When we compare it with the Nouvelle Complainte d'outremer, also generally accepted as a paid poem, what inferences may be drawn about personal commitment? The last of the Crusade poems (1277), it synthesizes all of them in theme and surpasses them in exhortation. Utilizing the same octosyllabes a rimes plates as in Sainte Elysabel, the poet endows them with an imagery, verve and grace that represent his best efforts as a versifier. Dividing the lines into stanzas of unequal length with a series of apostrophes to princes, kings, barons, tourneymen, squires, prelates, knights, and rich bourgeois, he singles them out, fixes them with his eye, holds them with the passion of his voice and the force of his words. He uses anaphora, with its suggestion of litany: 34 ll est iuges plains de droiture. Il est iuges, fors et poissons Et sages et bien connoissans : (1, p. 498). He uses the technique of divisio per verba which Faral tells us was a device prac- ticed by the preachers of the day (1, p. 496). Taking as his text the three lines quoted above, he builds rhyming couplets on the noun and the four descriptive adjectives: 97 37 Juges que on ne puet plaissier Ne h-om ne puet sa cort laissier ; Fors si fors fox est qui s'esforce 40 A—c-e que il vainque sa force ; Poissans que riens ne li eschape : Por quoi? Qu'il at tot 502 sa chape ; Sages, c'on nou puet desavoir, 44 Le puet chacuns aparsovoir ; Connoissans qu'il connoist Ia choze Avant queli hons la propoze. (1, p. 499--italics mine). Indeed, all the harangues and apostrophes of the poem are constructed on this rhe- torical method. First, the poet addresses "all of you" : Vos qui aveiz sans et savoir, 24 Entendre vos fais et savoir (1, p. 498). Then, in line 51, the apostrophe to "Prince, baron, tournoieour et vos autre" serves as the inclusive address, with each group singled out separately in the ensu- ing stanzas: 63 Prince, premier ............ (1, p. 499). under which he includes all Princes, then breaks them down to "Rois de France, Rois d'AingIeterre, Rois de Sezille". 103 Baron, qu'aveiz vos enpancei? (1, p. 501). 115 Tournoi'éur, vos qui aIeiz (1, p. 501). 135 Jone escuier au poil volage (1, p. 502). Next, in line 183, the inclusive address is to "Prelat, clerc, chevalier, borjois", and the ensuing stanzas again single these out in order. The poem has an inherent unity and the rhythmic flow from the all-inclusive whole to each part, back to another whole and its components, ending with an evocation of the heroes of yes- teryear, terminating in prayer, is spiral, and sustains excellent audience contact. "I Tne " fives. G'OU lethal Ienge- Tne evocation siting the W: Wasted witI tamed witi But, of 98 The divisio per verba technique is supported by the iudicious use of impera- tives . Groups are not only singled out with apostrophe, but exhorted: 70 N'atendeiz pas que la mors face De I'arme et dou cors desevrance (1, p. 499). 99 Remembre vos de l'éuvangile (1, p. 501). 219 Montreiz par bouche et par example Que vos ameiz Dieu et Ie Temple. (1, p. 504). 271 Ainsi defineiz votre vie (1, p. 506). 341 Recoumanciez novele estoire. (1, p. 508). 344 Sovaigne vos que Ii apostre N'orent pas paradiz por pou Or vos remembre de saint Pou Qui por Deu ot copei Ia teste ; (1, p. 508). He challenges them with lnterrogatives: Quant I'arme serat mise fors Queil part porra ele osteil prendre? 56 Savriiez le me vos aprendre? (1, p. 499). Que n'aveiz vos de l'autre envie Qui sans fin est por ioie faire? 68 Que n'entendeiz a votre afaire Tant come de vie aveiz espace? (1, p. 499). Queil part se porront eIz repondre 80 Qu'a Dieu nes estuisse respondre, Quant il at Ie monde en sa main Et nos n'avons point de demain? (1, p. 500). The evocation of Judgment Day in these last two lines is a powerful image. God, holding the world in his hands, weighing humanity in its final hour is all-power, contrasted with man's impotence; eternal, contrasted with man's mortality; immense, contrasted with man's insignificance. But, after the invective and the accusing finger, there is reassurance : mike "yOL ”W- he: N3¢,mc nmmoH IIeIIing ma) 'l'tere the rot 'WMM"W theoheod 'Mnteiz pg, The n We”) PCS F "Whfifi; . 01-515 ”Wars I MOny 99 342 Car Jhesucriz, li rois de gloire, Vcs vuet avoir, et maugré votre. (1, p. 508). and the "you" orientation becomes the "us" orientation, ending in the calm of prayer. The sincerity and passion of the tone are reflected in powerful imagery. Old age, manifesting itself in a part of you (the wrinkles in your face), while pre- paring to obliterate the whole of you: 164 ll ne vos chaut que vos faciez Tant que viellesce vos efface Que ridee vos est la face, Que vos iestes viel et chenu (I, p. 503). A telling mataphor in: 122 Le noiel laissiez por l'escrasche, Et paradix pour vainne gloire. (1, p. 501). where the ratio of Thought to Syntax is striking in its pairing of "kernel" with "paradise" and "shell " with "vainglory". Two deft instances of metonymy appear in the already mentioned "Que faites Dieu de votre pance"(p. 65 above) and in "montreiz par bouche" (v. 219). The whole is fraught with evocative alliterations. Plosives, such as I'N'orent pas paradix por pou", and "pain assé painne. . .pas la pance plainne"; a barrage of fricative "v" and hissing "s" and "f" sounds, sharp "é"s and prolonged vowels underscore the mood of the piece, as for example in W. 164-67 above cited. Many lines have the rhythmic balance of a "cesura" at the fourth syllable: 83 Rois de France, rois d'Aingleterre 85 L'oneur dou cors, Ie preu de l'ame (1, p. 500). 135 Jone escuier au poil volage (1, p. 502). Signi be he Ior: I I101 115 Cusade ne answer 11 inc compori net's ottitu< 'DIUSUUIIy I1 15 necessity hes noI Succ 'éSS OI Ihe m bnvincing. EII and CI w "W COnvi "'° Ido no: 01er the This is Ihe ii) "e”enr dis: 100 231 Diex vos fait bien ; faites Ii dont De cars, de cuer et d'arme don (1, p. 505). Significantly, there is no instance of annominatio in the poem to detract from the force of imaglial impact. l have cited the Nouvelle Complainte at length as the richest example of the Crusade poems, comparing it with Sainte Elysabel. I do not mean to imply that the answer to the question of Rutebeuf's personal feelings towards the Crusades lies in a comparison of the two poems, but I believe we can see a difference in the poet's attitude towards them. Long poems with a wealth of descriptive detail are not usually his preferred medium of expression, and he was obviously disturbed at the necessity of following someone else's poetic plan. I think that Sainte Elysabel does not succeed because Rutebeuf himself was not convinced of the appropriate- ness of the material for his talent, and because he was not convinced, he was not convincing. A different poet appears in the Nouvelle Complainte. Sure of him- self and of what he has to say, he has created a profoundly moving piece that carries conviction. Perhaps this affords a clue as to where his personal sentiments lie. I do not believe we can prove that the poet was or was not passionately de- voted to the Crusade cause, but we can infer that he was obsessed with salvation. This is the theme he preached so eloquently. If he was not sincere, he was an excellent dissembler. 15m 1350 F? _. J1: 15‘ l" .' ne- C H A P T E R 3 Poems of Serious Intent -- Sermon or Moralizing Moral intent underscored all serious 13th century poetry, and was even discernible in poems destined for entertainment rather than edification. No genre was totally devoid of it, as we shall see in our study of the fabliaux and personal lyrics in Chapter 5. Nevertheless, I have classed in this group ten poems whose intent is predominantly moral or didactic (see Appendix A -ii) as seen in terms of theme and treatment. They reflect the period's preoccupation with allegory and prosopOpoeia and seek to instruct in virtue by vilifying vice. T H E M E S In the 4th century A.D., Aurelius Prudentius Clemens originated a type of Christian poetry which was to mark indelibly the medieval taste. His Apotheosis, a rhetorical polemic directed against doctrinal heresies still extant in 0 Rome that had not fully routed paganism, yields the concept of a daemon dispatching his ministers to beset man's soul with sin. The Hamartigenia gives us the first physical description of the devil, enveloped in clouds of smoke and fire, his head crawling, Medusa fashion, with snakes: 131 anguiferum caput et fumo stipatur et igni, liventes oculos subfundit felle perusto invida inpatiens iustorum gaudia ferre. hirsutes iuba densa umeros errantibus hydris obtegit et virides adlambunt ora cerastae.l 'Prudentius, Hamartigenia, Loeb Classical Library (London: 1962), p. 212. 101 Io the Greek ifiwmeoh mfimdwhh MansouI bee: If wnque :emmnin cansistem wi =16 Biblical . i115, me“, i I5; \jisl llIE S I . WWI mOrQ 102 To the Greek concept of the Erynyes, avengers of sin, is added the corrupting influence of a malevolently-oriented power enticing to sin. Prudentius also is credited with having originated the moral allegory, 2 his Psychomachia, in which Mansoul becomes the battleground for the Vices and the Virtues. In his poem, Fides conquers Idolatria, Pudicitia conquers Libido, Patientia conquers_|_ra_. The characters in this agon are vividly portrayed, their accoutrements and weapons consistent with their nature : I60 ipsa sibi est hostis vesania seque furendo interimit moriturque suis Ira ignea telis. (p. 290). There is polemic and dialogue of sorts in the direct discourse of the Vices: 206 “non pudet, o miseri, plebeio milites claros ademptare duces ferroque lacessere gentem insignem titulis, veteres cui bellica virtus divitias peperit, laetos et gramine colles imperio calcare dedit ? (p. 292). and Biblical allusion: I63 ................. nam proximus lob haeserat invictae dura inter bella magistrae (p. 290). This, then, is the ancestor of the proliferation of Batailles des Vices contre les Vertus, the Songes d'Enfer, and Voie de Paradis as vehicles for expressing 13th century moral didacticism. The enthusiasm for allegory may be understood in terms of the needs of the medieval mind for symbol, and the pictorial concretization of the abstract. 2Prudentius' contribution was Christian allegory. In a sense, allegory has always been allied with religion, the early gods being mere personifications of the sun, moon, love, war, the sea, and so on. Apuleius includes an allegorical account of Cupid and Psyche in the Golden Ass. (Limit W 91 d'anIJ'i' heme a hair Then IMwme i peach cor The npreoch i rot in the I 3U Phori \ IE Pharisoe \ 1361)) starts ieci, 511“, 3° quick!) IIairns )0 M 'HIPOCIIIEI Inset, bu) ”here "We: 5'951hot "o This 5 TM"? Iho 103 Rhetoric was its medium of expression, but, as we have seen rhetoric makes use of dramatic devices. When highlighted with tonality and gesture, allegory may become a dramatic monologue, as evidenced by some of the Rutebeuf poems. Their themes are conventional, with Hypocrisy, Avarice, Stinginess, and Luxurious Living the principal targets. The road to salvation is their unifying thread and they preach combat with the Antichrist whose advent threatens. IMPLEMENTATIO N There are five poems which I characterize as sermons in that their intent . to preach is not veiled. Although they contain allegorical allusions, these are not in the Prudentian tradition. Du Pharisien : Similar to a Latin sermon of Guillaume de Saint-Amour, De Pharisaeo et Publicano, with which Rutebeuf was undoubtedly familiar, the poem starts off with a reference to Jonah, seemingly having no bearing on the sub- iect. Still, it is possible that the well-known message of the Bible story served as a quickly perceived symbol for the medieval audience. First, a man who claims to worship the true God, yet refuses to do his bidding (go to Nineveh) is a hypocrite. Second, a man who flouts the will of God not only comes to grief himself, but inflicts disaster on others through his guilt, witness the storm at sea where innocent people suffered for Jonah's obstinacy, giving rise to the expres- sion that "a Jonah" is on board. This second aspect is demonstrated, I believe, in the description of Hypocrisy that follows the Jonah reference: Hypocrisy I1 their seII'ir Wasting Truth, my] "Io renorde Dmlll’y I0 104 10 Tant est grant dame Qu'ele en enfer metra mainte ame ; Maint homme a mis et mainte fame 13 En sa prison (1, p. 251). Hypocrisy for the poet is synonymous with the Mendicants, who pervert justice to their self-interest. He describes their humble exterior : Granz robes ont de simple laine Et si sont de simple couvaine ; Simplement chascuns se demaine, Color ont simple et pale et vaine, 55 Simple viaire (1, p. 252). contrasting it with their inner portrait: Et sont cruel et deputaire Vers cels a cui il ont afaire 58 Plus que lyon Ne liépart ne escorpion. (I, p. 253). Truth, Pity, Faith, Love, Largesse and Humility avail nothing against Hypocrisy, "la renarde", who came into the kingdom and quickly won over the "Brothers". In the enumeration that follows, the poet has an opportunity to match satiric tonality to derisive gesture, as he counts off on his fingers: ........ Frere Guillaume Frere Robert et Frere Aliaume, 85 Frere Giefroi, Frere Lambert, Frere Lanfroi (I, p. 253). Hypocrisy, he ruefully admits, has managed to take over a large portion of the population against the coming of the Antichrist.3 3 Young points out that the concept of the Antichrist existed in the pre- Christian era in the folk idea of God's contest with a dragon-like monster, who later became a human adversary in whom the devil resided. Biblical allusions are to be found in the Book of Daniel, in Matthew XXIV, 15; Mark XIII, 14; Thessa- lonians II, 4 and Revelations XIII. In the middle of the 10th century, Adso of Toul wrote his Libellus de Antichristo in the form of a letter to Queen Gerberga of France, descfibing a 'WiaTEmessiah", opposite to Christ in every respect, per- verter of the GOSpel and expert criminal. The devil will enter his mother's womb, 105 Much rhythmic force is added to the poem by the use of the tercet coué, which, in my view, simulates the normal intonation and breath groups of the spo- ken Ianguage. The recurrence of the quadrisyllable subtly echoes rise and fall, creating the illusion of conversation: Le siecle gouverne et iustice ; Resons est quanqu'ele devise, 38 Soit maus soit biens. Ses serianz est Justiniens Et toz canons et Graciens. 41 Je qu'en diroie? (1, p. 252). There is only one deviation from this verse form in the poem, occurring in the al- ready cited lines (W. 51-54) reproduced below for clarity (see p. 104) : Granz robes ont de simple laine Et si sont de simple couvaine ; Simplement chascuns se demaine, Color ont simple at pale et vaine, 55 Simple viaire (1, p. 252). This is unusual in Rutebeuf who is scrupulous about sustaining his meter and rhyme scheme from start to finish. Here, he has written a quatrain, rhyming with the preceding quadrisyllable "certaine" (v. 50). It is possible that there was a quad- risyllable between lines 52 and 53, omitted by the copyist, although this would entail a change of rhyme in that quadrisyllable which would be reflected in the next two lines. It seems more likely therefore that Rutebeuf, caught in the octo- syllabic cadence normally used for description, inserted a couplet (W. 51-52) and evil spirits will teach him magic skills. He will come to Jerusalem shortly before the Last Judgment to torment whom he cannot corrupt, and occupy a throne in the Temple for three years and a half until his reign is ended by divine intervention (2, pp. 369-96). See also Chambers' account of the 12-I3th cen- tury Tegernsee Antichristus, an anti-clerical pamphlet with allegorical charac- ters (2, pp. 62-63). 106 based on the same rhyme, the repetition of which would intensify the description. This might have appeared to him sufficient reason to interrupt the conversational cadence of the monologue forrrhetorical effect. There is skillful use of alliteration in the humming of the "m"s indicating the ceaseless process of corrupting souls: Qu'ele en enfer metra mainte ame : Mainte homme a mis et mainte fame 13 En sa prison. Moult l'aime on et moult Ia prise on : (1, p. 251). An instance of beginning rhyme: 18 Grant honor a, ne garde I'eure : Sanz honor est qui le cort seure (I, p. 251). The whole is prosopopeia rather than allegory. Hypocrisy is personified, Heresy merely mentioned as her first cousin. There is no physical description of Hypocrisy, but a sharp moral portrait is drawn of her as the false messiah of the Antichrist. Synechdoche may be discerned in the use of "Justiniens'and "Gra- ciens" (see w. 39-40 above) to represent respectively Roman and Canon Law. Metaphorically, Truth, Pity, Faith, Charity, Largesse and Humility are pillars of the church that have been undermined, and Hypocrisy is a vixen. Her minions, the Mendicants, are depicted as worse than lions, leopards and scorpions. There is the proverb "N'est pas tout or quanqu'il reluit'I (v. 92), a variant of Morawski ’ 1371 (N'est pas or quanque Iuit), which Rutebeuf uses in five other poems, also. In addition to the reference to Jonah at the beginning, we find Biblical paraphrases from Matthew VI, VII and XXIII. The tone is patently didactic. Significantly, there is only one imperative: 79 Prenez i garde '. (I, p. 253). 0:130”e 1); line 5;ng Ia: f i of W35 than 6in m :have m structure, fantasia that Holy has that i . utility in Th1 II'D-'11", e1 :enhaI IIgL 3?. INT 1 Can it ,1 1 I716 Char 107 and one rhetorical interrogative (v. 41), cited on p. 105 above. In a total of 117 lines, the second-person plural appears four times, as does the first-person singular. There are two first-person plural forms. Obviously, with the majority of verbs in the third-person and only one imperative, the poem is narrative rather than exhortative, the poet intruding three times: 45 Or vous vueil dire de son estre. (1, p. 252). 91 Si com je cuit; (I, p. 254). 117 Or vous ai je tel gent descrites. (1, p. 255). Complainte de Guillaume: Since this poem, as we shall see, seems to have more in common with the Crusade sermons in tone, genre (complainte) and structure, its inclusion in the Sermon-Moralizing rather than the Polemic category demandeustification. Like Du Pharisien, it is prosopopeia rather than allegory, in that Holy Church speaks and the poet engages in the deception of quoting her. Per- haps that is the reason for the tercet coué form, Rutebeuf sensing intuitively its ver- satility in portraying the conversational cadence. The "Guillaume" referred to in the title is "Maistre Guillaume de Saint- Amour", erstwhile head of the secular clerics of the University's School of Theology, central figure in the battle between the University and the Preaching Friars (see pp. 80-81 above). Commencing with a direct address to the audience, the poet sets the tone for the Church's plaint : "Vous qui alez parmi Ia voie Arestez vous et chascuns voie S'il est dolor tel com Ia moie", 4 Dist sainte Yglise. (1, p. 258). She laments hi? iaaniati ' stated with rate-the rr Semntical I) "Pierre, wi hack” and c Image exten< Inst her equi hItering anir III-II) looted I ' ”In”. Am stress" or inn '1 the next I] Ilwej 108 She laments that once she was firmly based, "sor ferme pierre assise", but that her foundations are crumbling and she is faltering. This is a multi-level image, evoked with consummate skill. The first and immediately apparent level is inani- mate--the metaphor of a building constructed on a rock foundation, to endure. Semantically implicit in the inanimate rock image, however, is the animate rock "Pierre, with a capital letter--signifying Saint Peter whose name "petrus" meant "rock" and of whom God said "On this rock will I build my Church". This, the image extends to Church, here personified as a Woman (the bride of Christ) who has lost her equilibrium and sways unsteadily on her feet, "et je chancele". From the faltering animate woman, we revert to the inanimate image of "building" no longer firmly footed in bedrock, cracking with the strains and stress that undermine its support. And the literal "strains and stress" become the figurative "storm and stress" or internal dissensions "rocking the Church to its foundations}I made explicit in the next lines: 8 Tel gent se font de ma querele Qui me metent en la berele : (1, p. 258). "Well may they give me lip service, " Church continues, "chanter et lire", but there is a big gap between "fere et dire", the nature of which Rutebeuf ex- presses in a brilliantly alliterative line, two opposing thoughts balanced by a co- ordinating conjunction which sets them apart: 20 Le diz est douz et l'uevre dure : (1, p. 259). with a familiar proverb summing up the gap between word and deed: 21 N'est pas tout or quanc'on voit luire. Her lamentation breaks out afresh: 109 22 Ahi '. Ahi '. Come sont Ii mien mort et trahi Et por la verité ha? 25 Sanz jugement '. (1, p. 259). "Ii mien", of course, is Guillaume and the University cohorts. The perfidious Friars continue to fan the flames of dissension. They have won over the King ; they have won over the Pope, and Guillaume has been exiled from Paris. For six lines he repeats the same rhyme, the prolonged vowel sound echoing the "Ahi" of lamentation: 31 Et jel compere. Pris ont Cesar, pris ont saint Pere, Et s'ont emprisoné mon pere 34 Dedenz sa terre. Cil ne le vont gueres requerre Por qui il commenga la guerre, (T, p. 259). An apostrophe singles out the members of the other disciplines in the Univer- sity, Arts, Law, Medicine, who have kept themselves aloof from the conflict: 4O Hé arcien, Decretistre, fisicien, Et vous la gent Justinien (I, p. 260). and asks how they can stand by and allow the exile of: 45 " ....... Mestre Guilliaume Qui por moi fist de teste hiaume ?" (I, p. 260). A deft metaphor, "Guillaume made a helmet of his head". The Prudentian 3.9.32 is suggested here. "Helmet" evokes "battlefield", and the symbol of the Knight defending his Lady in the best chivalric tradition. But a helmet was designed to protect the head of its wearer, and here the Knight bares his head to the blows of his Lady's enemies, becoming her "helmet", drawing upon himself the attack in the role of Champion: 110 48 Li bons preudon Qui mist cars at vie a bandon (1, p. 260). He faces death for her cause. And is exiled for his pains. The contrast between Guillaume and the other members of the University is borne out several lines farther on. Pity, Love and Friendship are dead. Hypocrisy and her handmaidens, Vainglcry, Treachery, Pretense and Envy, have won the day against Guillaume. The University keeps silent, concerned for their bodies rather than their souls, "C'on doute plus le cors que l'ame" (v. 81). The good are routed leaving the hypocrites a free field. How fickle is Fortune, 0 psychophant who flatters to your face and stabs you in the back (vv. 108-110). How faithless the clergy who have forgotten Holy Church and forsaken her (vv. 111-113). All save Guillaume, who, assailed by scorpions, serpents, vipers, has been falsely judged, yet refuses to swear falsely that 129 Ft tors fust droiz, et Diex deable Et fors du sens fussent resnable, I31 Et noirs fust blanz. (I, p. 263). the world is upside down and words are robbed of their inherent meaning. There is an artful metrical-thematic balance in these lines : the opposition of wrong-right echoes the rise-fall inflection of the voice in typical French intona— tion for a series. This is repeated in the opposition God-Devil, a chiasmus, wrong appearing first, at the line's beginning, and Devil appearing last at the line's end. This is continued in line 131 where black precedes white, so that the rhetorical device underscores the thought expressed. Beginning rhyme, "Et tors" and "Et fors", intensifies the anaphora of the coordinating conjunction which subtly links the antitheses. Alliteration highlights 111 droiz, Diex and deable and the Passé Simple of its. in the sibilance of fussent hisses derision. It is interesting to note how the structure of the poem enhances its theme. The movement proceeds from the audience to the Church, to Guillaume, to the Friars, to the University, to the forces Guillaume combats, taking upon himself the task of defending the Church against her enemies so that subtly Her cause is identified as his, and he becomes a "martyr". Though it is purely coincidental, one cannot help but appreciate the martyr's felicitous name, "William of Holy Love", which lends an allegorical nuance to Rutebeuf's portrait. Like the Crusade sermons, the Complainte de Guillaume ends in prayer: "May William's cause be won before he dies '." There are other similarities to the Crusade sermons, although the theme is not primarily salvation, but polemic against those wo do not come to Guillaume's (and therefore the Church's) aid. The Complainte is “you" rather than “they" oriented. There are six imperatives. The audience is invited to stOp and listen and see and know, and finally to pray for the cause of Saint-Amour. It begins with "vous" and ends with "us", as the poet skillfully seeks to win them to his side. "They" are our common enemy, the perfidious Friars who have sold out to Hypocrisy and her handmaidens. The tone is bitterly polemic. Friars are equated with scorpions, serpents and vipers, to be feared and fled from for their sting, which brings death to the victim, and death is condemnation to hell for all eternity. There are three rhetorical questions which take note of the audience and seek to involve it, and the first-person singular appears 19 times; the second- person plural, five. The poet, "impersonating' the Virgin, intrudes frequently 112 into the discourse: 51 Me vendez, par sainte Marie '. J'en doi plorer, qui que s'en rie : Je n'en puis mais. (I, p. 260). 146 Ce sai je bien Je ne me desconfort de rien. (1, p. 264). In spite of the implied mimesis in Rutebeuf's impersonation of Sainte Eglise, the effect is narrative rather than dramatic, for it is not the purpose of the poet to enact the role of Holy Church but merely to report what she has allegedly told him. There is neither Plot, nor Character, nor a distribution of roles, although there are possibilities for Diction. The gesture of a pointed finger might well accompany the opening lines "You who go your way among the crowd, stop '. and see the plight I am in", and also in the apostrophes to "arcien, decretistre, fisicien, Justinien, and clergié". The woe of betrayal in verses 22-23, intoned in funereal accents, lends itself to a rhythmic rocking back and forth on the heels. A performer versed in the declamatory art could make the dulcet most of "Pitiez, Charitiez et Amistiez", while venomously hissing "Hypocrisy", and the enumeration of her satellites, ser- pent and scorpion, while prolonging the "i" of guivr'e derisively. The rhyme is rich, sometimes even leonine: 56 Bien puet passer avril et mays '. (1, p. 260). This line reappears exactly in the Dit de Sainte Eglise (v. 50) and in alternate form in two of the personal poems.4 April evokes Easter, marking the end of the Lenten and winter austerity, the burgeoning of Spring. May, traditionally was the month of devotion to the Virgin. Yet there may be a symbolic significance. 4They are Griesche d'hiver, "Ne voi venir avril ne may" (I, p. 523, v. 59) and Mariage Rutebeuf, "aVant que viegne avril ne may", (1, p. 550, v. 81). 113 In the April and May of life we have little thought for December, giving ourselves over to the joys of the moment. But December inevitably comes and how we have passed the months of April and May determines where we go in January, to perdi- tion or paradise . Dit de Sai nte Egl ise : While its diatribe might be classed as polemic, I have included the Dit de Sainte Eglise among the sermonizing allegories because of the similarity of its theme to the Complainte. In strophic form, ten octosyllabic 12-line stanzas, a rimes plates, the Dit talks about Holy Church but does not per- wnify her. The plaint is similar, a diatribe against the Jacobins and Franciscans, excoriation of the University, this time also calling the School of Theology to task for their flaccid reaction to Saint-Amour's plight. The clergy again come in for their share of invective for fearfully failing to stand up to the Mendicants. F8.B date it as 1259, contemporary with the Complainte de Guillaume and the Dit des 83gb, which carries similar theme and invective. It is a "you" oriented poem, containing 18 second-person plurals, ten first- person singulars and three first-person plurals, three imperatives, one rhetorical question, "Entendez me vous, ne vous voir?" (1, p. 279, v. 15), and the poet in- trudes personally three times in the 120 lines: 25 Je tien bien a fol eta nice (1, p. 279). 38 Je vous jete fors de mon titre. (I, p. 280). 97 Je ne blame pas gent menue : (1, p. 283). Although many of the same opportunities exist for gesture as in the Complainte, it is also rhetorical rather than mimetic. This time, the poet laments for the Church: 114 I7 Ahi '. Ahi '. fole gente tote Qui n'osez connoistre Ie voir (1, p. 279). There are apostrophes: 37 Vous devin, et vous discretistre (1, p. 280). 61 Ahi '. prelat et nervoié (I, p. 281). two instances of chiasmus: Je vous jete fors de mon titre, 39 De mon titre devez fors estre 48 Diex vous giete de son regitre. 49 De son registre, il n'en puet mais ; (I, p. 280). beginning and ending stanza IV and commencing stanza V. There is a powerful metaphor, directed at the theologians and decretists: 47 Vous copez Dieu l'oroille destre (1, p. 280). in which he rather severely costs them in the role of "bourreau", mutiliating God by "cutting off his right ear", a punishment which excluded the victim from the Church (F&B 1, p. 280, n 47). While the tone is mainly diatribe and lament, there are touches of irony. In Rutebeuf's opinion, the saints and martyrs were foolish to give up their lives for God and Holy Church if it is true that a white or a brown habit is sufficient to enter paradise. Indeed, he observes in the very last line, if such is the case, "Pour po perdi sainz Poz la teste" (v. 120). 0 es Ja co bins : Here again the form is strophic, sixteen duodecasyllabic four line stanzas, one rhyme per stanza, so that they have the rhythm of the alexan- drin if not its form. His criticism of the Jacobins starts off ironically: 115 Seignor, moult me merveil que cist siecles devient Et de ceste merveille, trop souvent me souvient, Si qu'en moi merveillant a force me couvient 4 Fere un dit merveilleus qui de merveille vient. (1, p. 314). The annominatio on "merveille", appearing in some form in every line, combines with the alliterative "s" and "m" sounds to lend strength to the ironic tone. Merveil is a verb in the first line, a noun in the second, a participle in the third, and an adjective in the fourth, and the force of its repetition makes quite clear that "marvel" and "marvelous" are not meant in praise but in censure. He says the opposite of what he means. A wondrous thing is happening in this century, Orgueil, Couvoutise, Avarisce et Envie are rampant, Charité, Larguesce, Humili- te_zhave disappeared, and the Jacobins who first came into the world pur et net, humble, vowed to poverty, have radically changed character. This is what he marvels at. The irony emerges neatly in the following passage: 33 Je ne di pas ce soient Ii Frere Prescheor Aingois sont une gent qui sont bon pescheor, Qui prenent tel poisson dont il sont mengeor ; L'en dit : "lechierres leche", més il sont mordeor. (1, p. 316). in the equivocal significance of the terms "pescheor", both "fishermen" and "sinners", and "leche" meaning both "lick their lips" and "debauch". "I do not say", protests the poet, and then promptly says it in a clever evocation of the Reaching Friars at three levels: First, as "fishers" of men, in Saint Peter's role; second, as devourers (mordeor) of the men they fish; third, as gluttons and Iechers. The Mendicants were Rutebeuf's Catiline, and he pursued them with true Ciceronian tenacity. What he says in this poem, he has said in many of the others, 116 but the invective is barbed and while he does not mention "Hypocrisie", he exposes it: 21 Premier ne demanderent c'un poi de repostaille Atout un pou d'estrain ou de chaume ou de paille; (I, p. 315). but look at them now: 25 Tant ont eii deniers et de clers et de Iais Et d'execucions, d'aumosnes et de Iais, Que de basses mesons ont fet si granz palais (I, p. 315). "The habit doesn't make the monk", but there is scarcely a criminal or heretic, or bigot or sodomite who, when he dons the habit is not considered a saint or a hermit: II n'a en tout cest mont ne bougre ne herite Ne fort popelican, vaudois ne sodomite, Se il vestoit l'abit ou papelars abite, 52 C'on ne le tenist ja a saint ou a hermite. (1, p. 316). There are two instances of annominatio, on "corde" (W. 13-16) and on "mordre" which we might compare with the one already cited in Eude de Nevers (p. 59 above): Cil Diex qui par sa mort volt la mort d'enfer mordre Me vueille, s'il Ta 513?, a sonmrs amordre ; Bien sai qu'est grant corone, més je ne sai qu'est ordre, 64 Quar il font trap de choses qui moult font a remordre—:— (l, p. 317--italics mine) In the first verse, the same noun is used twice, the variation being in the possessive adjective modifying the first mirt, and the definite article the second, followed by the infinitive mordre with a different meaning. The prefix "a" added to the noun forms a new noun 3315, "love", and makes a new word of the infinitive, meaning "attach one's self to, or identify with". In the next line, the letters "cm" are dropped, yielding the word "ordre", introducing another meaning, and the prefix "re" is added to the original infinitive making still another word with another meaning. The annominatio, therefore, is much more expanded in these 117 four verses than in the three we cited from Eudes de Nevers, in that there are six different meanings, all of which make conceptual sense and produce a multiplicity of rhyme. This is a skillful use of the device, therefore, and enhances the rhythm, rhyme and unity of the passage. Des Jacobins has little interest for us from the mimetic standpoint, but the opportunities for gesture and tonal ridicule discussed above would apply here also. The same themes recur in Les Plaies du monde and I'Etat du monde. Times have changed, things are not what they used to be, Love has gone from the earth, the clergy is acquisitive and concupiscent rather than pious, chivalry has deteri- orated, only the students, poor and God-fearing, merit praise. There is one mimetic line in I'Etat du monde to be singled out: the Mendicants march through the city, crying: 33 "Donez, por Dieu, du pain aus Freres '." (1, p. 384). A satiric evocation of pitch, and intonation could make the line devastating and provoke derisive laughter. D it d ' Ar istote : Written in octosyllabes a rimes plates, this purports to be a translation from the Latin of a well-known passage in the Alexandréide of Gautier de Chatillon of the advice Aristotle gave to Alexander. F88 believe it is directed at Philippe Ie Hardi, when he acceded to the throne (1, p. 559). l have classed it with the sermons since its intent is allegedly the edification of a young King. One cannot help discerning the self-interest which may have prompted the poem. Rutebeuf limited his translation, expanding upon the admonie- tion to put credence only in the advice of the high-born, and not the serf. True, 118 says the poet, but: Se tu voiz home qui le vaille Garde qu'a ton bienfait ne faille ; N'i prent ja garde a parentei 24 C'om voit de teux a grant plantei Qui sont de bone gent estrait Dont on asseiz de mal retrait. (1, p. 562). Tacit in this description is Rutebeuf himself, a man of virtue, despite low birth, who would surely be of inestimable value in guiding a young King. There is also a good word said for a king who "a Ie cuer plain de largesse". Except for a brief reference to the poet at the outset: 6 Et Rustebués I'a trait dou livre (1, p. 561). the five first—person pronouns in the poem refer to Aristotle, whom the poet is supposedly quoting. In 86 lines, there are eight imperatives, and eleven second- person singulars. There is not a second person plural in the entire poem since "Aristotle" uses the familiar form in addressing his pupil. Mimetically, the poem adds little to our study. Three poems in the Pwdentian tradition, however, are more productive. D it d' H ypo cr i s i e : An accomplished, thinly-veiled satire on the Papal Court at Rome, this poem is an allegorical presentation of a contemporary situa- tion. For three months after the death of Pope Alexander, the Papacy was vacant, and there was bitter competition and scrambling for the post among the eligible hierarchy. In August of 1261, the, Colllege of Cardinals elected Urbain IV to the Holy See. This is the historical background against which Rutebeuf's plot is woven. Incidents are arranged in natural sequence, and the allegory is sustained throughout the poem . 119 The opening verses are something of a rarity in Rutebeuf, who does not normally begin his poems with nine lines of lyric beauty devoted to the description of a season. To be sure, he was following the tradition for dream poems, except that the season they described was Spring: Au tens que les cornoilles braient Qui por la froidure s'esmaient Qui seur les cors Ior vient errant 4 Qu'eles vont ces noiz enterrant Et s'en garnissent por l'iver, Qu'en terre sunt entrei Ii ver Qui s'en issirent por l'estei 8 (Si i ont por la tens estei Et la froidure s'achemine), (1, p. 288). and this is an evocation of autumn, when the crows caw, dismayed by cold, gar- nering and burying nuts against the winter, the worms crawl back into the earth from which they issued during the summer, and frost is on its way. Why autumn, one wonders? Since the tale begins before the coronation of the Pope, elected in August, the author had to have his prophetic dream prior to that month, but the previous Spring would have done as well. Perhaps autumn was intended sym- bolically to evoke the mood of the dream. Spring is a season of Optimism, of rebirth, of sunshine and flowers and the Resurrection. Autumn is a time of nos- talgia for the departed Spring and of dread for the chill of approaching winter and the dying year. Viewed in terms of the Antichrist, who was to reign three and a half years before the End of the World, it might be considered as Life's autumn for the medieval public believed the Second Coming was at hand. At that time, the poet says, since I had drunk copiously of a wine so good the Lord Himself must have planted the vine, my body fell asleep but my restless spirit wandered all the night, and I had a dream, a prophetic dream, "Qui puis ne 120 fu mie mensonge" (v. 20). He makes an imperative plea to his hearers to listen: 18 Or escouteiz, ne vos anuit, Si orroiz qu'il m'avint en songe. (T, p. 288). as he recounts the events of his dream. His soul wandered hither and yon, till he found himself in a great city, where he met a charming gentleman who offered him shelter, and proved to be an excellent host. In somewhat formal accents, "Coument vos noume Ia gent de votre conissance ?" (W. 42-43), the gentleman asks his name and the poet replies, . 5 "My name is Rutebeuf, 'rude' as in 'clumsy' and 'buef' as in 'ox'." --a neat bit of modesty on the part of the poet, who had made this explanation a trademark. Modesty well-rewarded by his host's reply: --"Rutebuef, biaux tres doulz amis 48 Puis que Dieux saians vos a mis, Moult sui liez de votre venue. Mainte parole avons tenue De vos, c'onques mais ne ve‘r’mes, 52 Et de vozdiz et de voz rimes (1, p. 289). The performance of this dialogue must have delighted his audience, and we can imagine the "clumsy ox" impersonating host and poet with an aplomb calculated to squeeze the fullest advantage from the exchange. The satirical tone, estab- lished at the outset, is in full play, the spectators settle back to be amused, their attention won. F88 see this poem as a pamphlet circulated among the Paris intel- lectuals (I, p. 287) and it would be a successful pamphlet, since the poem reads well. In my view, however, the opportunities for performance and self-advertis- ing are too tempting for Rutebeuf to have restricted it to a reading public only. 5| have translated "rude" as "clumsy" in the sense of "lacking in skill and grace", which I believe to be the sense Rutebeuf intended, rather than "Robustious- Ox", as Ham translates it in "Rutebeuf--Pauper and Polemist", p. 231. 121 Since it is the host who Speaks the praise, Rutebeuf freely uses the occasion to expound on the audience who benefit from his rhymes--those who dare not listen except in secret; those who are obliged to listen in spite of themselves (viz. the Mendicant hypocrites); and those who listen because the poet speaks the truth. With nonchalant disregard for social amenity, the poet accepts an invi- tation to dinner, washes his hands, sups and drinks, again washes his hands, and accompanies his host on a walk in the meadow before it occurs to him to ask him his name. It appears that the host is called Cortois, which F818 indicate was at that time synonymous with "urbain" (I, p. 287), and his identity becomes further apparent when he adds that he is a stranger in the city (Urbain IV had been the patriarch of Jerusalem before his elevation to the papal throne). We learn that his mother was "Cortoisie" and that he is a widower, his wife Bele Chiere having met her death at the hands of those who believe bele chiere should exist only for those able to pay for it: 117 Qui bele chiere vuet avoir II l'achate de son avoir. (1, p. 291). During the conversation, Cortois tells Rutebeuf (who can scarcely believe it '.) thatm and Covoitise hold court in the Hall of Justice, and that those who came to the city good Christians leave it as hypocrites, "fauz farisiens"(v. 192). The city has neither king nor emperor, but the Vices are competing to accede to the throne and Humility, Good Faith, Love and Loyalty are out of the running. Curious to find out what he can about the candidates and their secrets and their ways, Rutebeuf disguises himself as a hermit: Ing ovr Cortois hred j senttic IIII’tesI 1. 101 ang lam '05 Wo. "her . 122 228 Brunet et groz, d'un povre pris, Dont pas ne fui a grant escot S'en fis faire cote et sorcot Et une houce grant et large Forree d'une noire sarge ; Li sorcoz fu a noire panne. (1, p. 295). and in his newly acquired garments, cloaked in a flowing wrap lined with black serge, gets a job as "notaire" for Hypocrisie, intent on learning what he can about her modus Operandi. The word "notaire" here has a double sense, and can indicate both the official and the reporter, in the sense of "someone who takes notes on something". This puts the poet in a position to observe at firsthand the villainy of Hypocrisie, "Et di por voir, non pas devine" (v. 299). But the Good Lord is watch- ing over the city, the Vices have scrambled in vain, the throne is proffered to Cortois, and Rutebeuf is overjoyed. F88 claim that the Dit d'Hypocrisie is the first polemic where the poet dared to name himself. Perhaps he did not feel he was taking too much risk. After all, the satire is directed at Rome, not at France, and a Gallican sentiment was building up which was to prompt Charles VII in 1438 to attempt the Pragmatic Sanction of Bourges in the hope of naming his own bishops and collecting his own tithes, and to culminate successfully in 1516 with the signing of the Concordat de Bologne under Frangois I. It is even possible that Rutebeuf felt his friends among the "Grands" would be receptive to the poem. There are two protagonists, one allegorical, one real--a commonplace in dream poetry. Rutebeuf plays himself, or rather the public image of himself that has won him a following among the people of Paris. Cortois is a mouthpiece rather than a person, although he does emerge as a well-bred gentleman of 123 aristocratic lineage, 0 hospitable host, and a literary connoisseur not only familiar with the works of Rutebeuf, but able to quote him (v. 172-73). Certainly, he is a presence to whom the performer might'lend a certain amount of personality, but his role lacks dimension except as the embodiment of courtesy. Vices and Virtues, save for Hypocrisie, remain mere personifications throughout. The portrait of Hypocrisie is more finely drawn. Wilful, grasping, sacrilegious, she is "more cruel than bear, lion, serpent and viper lumped together", yet her papularity is such that if a poll were taken, she would get the majority vote: 296 Bien est la choze desreignie Qu'ele avoit 0 election La greigneur congregacion, Et di por voir, non pas devine, 300 Se la choze alast par crutine Qu'ele enportast Ia seignerie (I, p. 297). But of course she is only talked about, not enacted. While there is an exchange of Speeches between the host and the guest, it cannot properly be considered dialogue, conversational though its tone may appear to be. For example, after Rutebeuf has told Cortois his name (W. 44-46), the host speaks uninterruptedly for 33 lines (W. 47-80). Then the narrator takes over, describing their actions after Cortois's speech: Asseiz belimes et manjames Aprés mangier les mains lavames, S'alames, esbatre el prael. 100 J'enquis au preudome loiel Coument il estoit apeleiz (1, p. 291). At which point, Cortois takes the floor again for 89 lines (vv. 103-192). Another question from Rutebeuf : "Who is the ruler in this domain ?" and Cortois continues for another 22 lines (vv. 198-220), his final speech. From then on the narrator 124 takes over completely. The dialogue was a "dramatic" device to enliven the poet's monologue, and give him an opportunity to display his performing skill, but as in all the poems of serious intent, the emphasis is on the ideas expressed which the performance merely accentuates. Action is recounted not enacted but there is a fair amount of descriptive detail not usual in Rutebeuf's narrative poems. It serves to estab- lish verisimilitude in purporting to be a verbatim account of the dream; it is used also to tease the audience with a bit of suspense, "Ne vos vuel faire Iongue fable" (v. 95), says the poet, and then proceeds to give a catalogue of every movement made. It also provides an opportunity for satire, as in the description of the habit that makes the notaire. Versification is in octosyllabic rhyming couplets, traditionally used for narration, and non-strophic. Here the poet is at his versifying best. The rhymes are rich throughout, for example: Come ele court a la court ci 132 Car tuit Ie droit sont acourci (I, p. 292). 165 Laianz vendent, je vos afi, Le patrimoinne au Crucefi. (1, p. 293). There is a proverbial turn to some of the lines: 117 Qui bele chiere vuet avoir II l'achate de son avoir (I, p. 291). and the alliterative "saying" of Rutebeuf quoted by Cortois: 172 Rutebuez dit que cil est yvres Quant iI achate chat en sac (1, p. 293). as well as the highly alliterative: 259 Vins et viandes vuet avoir (1, p. 296). 125 Rutebeuf often uses animal imagery to characterize the Vices, particularly Hypocrisie (la renarde). The Dit d'Hypocrisie is no exception: 260 Ours ne lyons, serpent ne wyvre N'ont tant de cruauté encemble Com ele seule, ce me cemble (1, p. 296). but her portrait is expanded by two highly evocative metaphors: 257 C'est Ii glasons qui ne puet fondre ; She is an icicle, extreme cold, frozen, numb, unrelenting--the total absence of sensation, and 264 C'est le charbons desoz Ia cendre Qui est plus chauz que cil qui flame. (I, p. 296). she is the live coal burning beneath the ashes, hotter than the flame, or extreme heat, scorching, fire which does not warm but consumes painfully, and feeds on what it has consumed, therefore the most excruciating sensation. The effect is paradoxical. While the narrative portions of the poem are largely "they" oriented, in its 320 lines, there are sixteen first-person singulars, 7 first-person plurals, and 21 second-person plurals. The poet maintains contact with his audience through- out, however, and we find 8 imperatives and several personal intrusions of the nature of "ce me samble", and "ne cuidiez pas que ce soit guile". Exclamations, apostrophe, exhortation and prayer are significantly absent, but there are two inter- rogatives. Bataille des Vices contre les Vertus : The satiric tone does not succeed so well in the Bataille. Irony appears in the very first line, with the poet invoking the favorite text used against the Mendicants, that manual labor was a hyjand Iv, 3) 0nd NMWWI Vices were concept oI While he I VIfIUES, I11 cant order to say, I satirical I) W were hum! . lad II: t I I Anfifide El 0nd 8 Seemlng he *stitn '"Ittlrs’ 126 duty, and it was a sin to beg. "Qui est oiseus de legier peche", says Rutebeuf (v. 3) and since the authorities so dictate, I work at my trade, writing, "Quar autre ouvraigngne ne sai fere" (v. 11). He invites his audience to hear how the Vices were conquered, but it becomes apparent immediately that the traditional concept of the Bataille is pure pretense for a polemic against the Mendicants. While he has promised to deal with the seven cardinal sins conquered by the seven virtues, he stOps at the end of three. Credit for the victory is given to the Mendi- cant orders, as with a seemingly straight face he gainsays everything he purports to say. There is neither plot, nor characterization, nor battle ; only diatribe, satirically stated. When the Freres Mineurs and the Freres Precheurs first came to be, they were humble. Humility then was "petite", but the Friars turned her into a "great lady": Et or est bien droiz et resons 80 Que si granz dame ait granz mesons Et biaus palais et beles sales 85 Ne vaut il miex c'umilité Et la sainte divinité Soit le'u en roial palais (1, p. 308). A" OSIde which he must have found irresistible breaks the continuity between lines 8] and 85: 82 Maugré toutes les langues males Et Ia Rustebuef tout premiers, Qui d'aus blasmer fu coustumiers. (1, p. 308). Seemingly in accord with the criticism that jongleurs were "méchantes langues" he Sk'llfUlly indicates what Rutebeuf thinks and what the audience knows he thinks, and dismisses it with a shrug and a wave of the hand. "You know he is ' IIOr m "‘___1 r“. 97 127 wont to find fault." It is a trick older than Aristophanes, but always good for a laugh. Starting at line 97, he takes the next 61 lines to discuss Humility as it applies to the Friars. They are wise to take all they can get now, he opines, for if anything were to happen to the King, what would become of them? Humility is such a great lady, he repeats: 144 Qu'ele ne crient homme ne fame ; Et li Frere, qui Ia maintienent Tout le roiaume en Ior main tienent : (1, p. 310). In the next sixteen lines (vv. 160-176), he deals with the Larguece-Avarisce pair but all he does is to mention them, the whole of the passage being devoted to the fear the Mendicants engender because the King has given them the right to Inquisi- tion of heretics: Quar testoute Ia char herice Au mauvés qui les voit venir : 164 Tart Ii est qu'il puisse tenir Chose qui Ior soit bone at bele, (1, p. 311). With the introduction of Debonereték duel with E3 (v. 176), however, there is an abrupt change of tone. Up to this point, Rutebeuf has maintained good ironic distance, referring to himself in the third person (W. 82-84) keeping up the pretense of the narrator's anonymity. Suddenly, he becomes personally and emo- tionally involved and the generality is transformed into the specific. Abandoning entirely the Vice-Virtue fiction, he decries the death of Chrétien de Beauvais, Guillaume de Saint-Amour's friend and colleague, and recounts the circumstances which led to Guillaume's exile. The Bataille des Vices contre les Vertus becomes Guillaume's battle with the Mendicants, in which the champion of the Virtues is felled in combat by the Friars, champions of Vice. Yet the sudden change Of 128 mood weakens the effectiveness of the piece which lacks the artistic unity of I2_i_t d'Hypocrisie, where the drean fiction is sustained to the very end and the tone re- mains constant. The poet has not played fair with his audience; he has led them with laughter and ironic jibe to expect one thing, and given them another. La Voie de Paradis : This is the third longest of Rutebeuf's poems, (902 verses), the other two being Sainte Elysabel and Ste. Marie l'Egyptienne. Significantly, all three of them are religious in theme. Critics are agreed that the Voie (1265) is posterior to the Dit d'Hypocrisie (1261). While there are marked similarities between the two poems in essential plot and character, the difference in tone, intent and theme are worth noting. Another dream poem, it starts off traditionally with an evocation of Spring: Mi marz tout droit, en cel termine Que de souz terre ist la vermine Ou ele a tout l'yver esté 4 Si s'esjo'r'st contre l'esté Cil arbre se cuevrent de fueille Et de flor la terre s'orgueille Si se cuevre de flors diverses 8 D'indes, de jaunes et de perses, (I, p. 341). This time, however, there is a reason for the choice of Spring, since E Voie de Paradis is intended as an allegorical representation of the Lenten journey from penitence to confession, leading the pilgim to the gates of Paradise by pointing out the detours of the road to Hell. In this sense, as F8.B have pointed out, it is at once a voie de Paradis and a voie d'Enfer (1, p. 337). The opening lines have been likened to verses 45-62 of Guillaume de Lorris's Roman de la Rose, but I believe Serper has clearly demonstrated that, while the tone of both passages is similar, the poet is not guilty of appropriating 129 de Lorris's verses (Serper, Poéte Satirique, p. 147). Even the expression "la terre s'orgueille", appearing in both, may be explained in terms of a natural rhyme for "feuille" which would very likely occur to a versifier sensitive to rhym- ing possibilities. I believe the poet went through a similar thought process in in- troducing "la vermine" into the poem (v. 2). Though it may strike the ear as a less-than-Iyric figure, still it does provide a rhyme for "termine", and might well have been arrived at through an associative annominatio of "Ii ver" for "l'hiver", which he did use in Dit d'Hypocrisie (W. 5-6). A comparison of the images of the two poets is revealing. While Guillaume de Lorris speaks charmingly of the "tens amoureus, pleins de joie", of bush, and hedge, and budding leaves, Rute- beuf is talking about worms. For him there is no association of "springtime" and "lovetime" . As in the Dit d'Hypocrisie, Rutebeuf puns on his name: Rustebuef qui rudement oevre, Quar rudes est, ce est la somme, 20 EU ausi come du premier somme. (1, p. 342). and intimates that he is a late riser, since at the time of day when everyone else is going to work (v. 17) he is still in a deep sleep (v. 20). His proclivity for sleeping late is mentioned again several lines farther on: 70 Je, qui n'ai pas non d'estre main Levez, jui la premiere nuit (I, p. 344). Although Ham (" Pauper and Polemist", p. 230) considers this a debatable personal detail, sleeping late is a habit quite consonant with the life of a jongleur, as it is characteristic of performers in our day, whose work begins when the audience's work day ends, and who need time to "unwind" after the final performance. It 130 seems to me to be just the kind of detail the poet might utilize to lend a realistic touch to his recital. Thus, in deep sleep, the poet has a dream that he is on a narrow road. The fork to the left appears inviting, but he is not misled and takes the road to the right in conventional medieval symbolism. There he meets Pitié, husband of Charité, uncle of Largesse, nephew of Humilité, who directs him on his pilgrimage. Here, the appeal is again to the imagination and the journey is not enacted but narrated. Rutebeuf visits and describes the houses, ménages, and character of the seven Vices and their antithetical Virtues. From the standpoint of Character, Pitié is very like Cortois, sketched in a few brushstrokes: 108 Je le vi douz et debonere, Si m'enbelirent ses paroles Qui ne furent vaines ne voles. (1, p. 345). The Vices, however, are treated with greater descriptive detail than in the other poems. Rutebeuf evokes their inner portrait in terms of physical detail and symbol. Orgueil is elegant and has many guests in his house. By word, not deed, he makes archdeacons of clerics, deans of sub-deacons, provosts of lay clergy. Among the "gent" are those clad in rich vermilion, their rosaries strung with vermilion flowers: 196 Qui trop est bele a grant merveille Quant ele est freschement cueillie ; Més quant Ii chauz I'a acueillie, Tost est morte, matie et mate : 200 Tel marchié prent qui tel l'achate. (I, p. 347). who, F&B say are reminiscent of cardinals (I, p. 347). Worldly things, like freshly gathered flowers, are lovely at first, soon wither, and death is their inevi- table end. For, the poet tells us, using a proverbial structure, "You get what you 131 bargain for". Next, Avarice, Orgueil's neighbor a little farther down the valley, who never opens her purse (v. 213) and holds thin pale men in thrall. Then the vil- lainous lady Ire, tearer of hair, whose teeth are always clenched. She opens them only to Speak evil: 237 Que toz jors sont ses denz serrees, Qui ja ne seront desserrees Se n'est por felonie dire. (1, p. 349). Envie is given the fullest treatment. First her windowless, sunless house: N'i a fenestre ne verriere 300 Qui rende clarté ne lumiere Ainz est la meson si obscure C'on n'i verra ja soleil luire. (1, p. 351 ). Then a reference to Ovid's treatment of Envie in the second book of the Metamor- phoses, where he says she has eaten serpent's flesh, on which Pitié comments, quoting the poet Rutebeuf: Més Rustebués 0 ca respont, 308 Qui "Ia char du serpent" espont : C'est Ii venins qu'ele maintient; Ez vous la char qu'en sa main tient. (1, p. 351). Finally, an anaphora of which the poet must have been inordinately fond since he used it virtually verbatim in Le Sacristain et la femme au chevalier (2, p. 215, w. 49-62). Envie met descorde es freres, Envie fet ha'r'r les meres, Envie destruit gentillece, 356 Envie grieve, Envie blece, Envie confont Charité Et si destruit Humilité ; Ne sai que plus briefment vous die : 360 Tuit Ii mal vienent par Envie. (I, p. 353). I32 Rutebeuf has reason to be proud of the lyric lilt of the meter, the richness of rhyme, the metric balance, the harmony of thought and sound, as in the pro- longed vowels--terre, guerre, freres, meres, fame, ame--the dipthong "ha'r'r" which sounds like a wail, and the force of repetition. An artfully succinct three lines portray Chastity : 845 Chastee Ia nete, la pure, Qui sanz pechié et sanz ordure A este et est et sera (1, p. 369). combining Rutebeuf's adeptness at what Zumthor calls "Ie poétique de contrastes" (pp. 172-73) with an alliterative evocation of the litany, "was, is now and ever shall be, world without end". The adjectives "net" and "pure" recur frequently in Rutebeuf, linked by the coordinating conjunction "et". In the Bataille, they are also used to characterize Chastity, "Qui tant est fine et nete et pure" (v. 35). In Des Jacobins, they refer to the Friars' first appearance in the world, "S'es- toient par semblant et pur et net at monde" (v. 18), and in Des Regles, they des- cribe Virtue, "C'est vertu si nete et si pure" (v. 168). As in the Dit d'Hypocrisie, the dialogue is not really dialogue except for a brief question and answer interchange between Pitié and the poet (vv. 81-139), which takes on a natural pace. When Rutebeuf asks his host's name: "J'ai non, dist il, Pitié. -- Pitié, dis je, c'est trop biau non. 116 --Voire, fet il, .................. (I, p. 345). and ends with Rutebeuf's exclamation: 134 --Ha '. Diex, ostes, et je comment? 138 Ha I Diex, et qui m'enseignera Comment je les eschiverai ? (l, p. 346). 133 From line 1 1 4 to line 867, Pitié teaches him how to recognize the Vices and their habitats, after which the poet speaks of the City of Repentence : 873 Me plot plus que riens a veoir. (1, p. 370). which Jesus built, and its four gates, Remembrance, Bone ESperance, Poor, and Amor fine, leading to Confesse "qui tout netoie" (v. 899). The tone is predominantly serious, far more mellow than in the lit d'Hypocrisie: devoid of diatribe. Still, Rutebeuf cannot resist throwing darts at the Mendicants and there are ironic touches. No point in trying to enter the house 0f LUXUFe with an empty purse, Pitié declares: De vuide main vuide proiere, Quar vous oez dire a la gent : 488 "A I'uis, a I'uis, qui n'a argent'I (1, p. 358). The IOSI line is a proverb (Morawski No. 71, p. 3 -- A I'uis, a I'uis, qui n'a POint d'orgent). Then his tongue-in-cheek comment on his niece: Biaus ostes, Larguece, ma niece 604 Qui a Iangui se langue piece Que je croi bien qu'ele soit morte (1, p. 361). and a Sly thrust at Rome: 716 Frangois sont devenu Romain Et Ii riche homme aver et chiche. (I, p. 365). The usual narrative verse form (octosyllabes a rimes plates) is again dis- TTNQUIShed by rich rhyme: 247 Fols est qui enchiés Ii ira Que telle maniere en Ire a (1, p. 349). and recurring alliteration: 134 202 A l'avaler d'un petit val (1, p. 348). 453 Ne faut fors avaler Ie val. (I, p. 357). and annominatio: Moult est bien fermez li porpris : Cil se doit bien tenir por pris Qui vient en icele porprise, 220 Quar el porpris a te porprise Qu'ele n'est fete que por prendre Grant espace Ii fist porprendre. (I, p. 348--italics mine). and another on the "corde" group of which he is so fond: Li fondemenz est de concorde ; La Dame de Mesericorde——_— l estoit quant ele acorda 560 Le descort qu'Adans descorda, Par quoi nous a toz acordé A I'acort au digne Cors Dé 564 En sea—carde les trois cordons : (I, p. 360--italics mine). There are several instances of anaphora, of which I have already cited the passage on Envie. For example: L'en soloit par amors amer 644 L'en soloit tresors entamer, L'en soloit doner et prometre : (1, p. 363). as well as: 789 Et ele si voudroit veillier Et jetiner et traveillier Et escouter le Dieu servise ; (1 , p. 367). Rutebeuf seems very aware of the need to maintain contact with his audience in a poem of such great length. He (or Pitié as monologuist) intrudes 29 times into the narrative, in such phrases as: 14 Je di por voir, non pas devine. (1, p. 341). 250 De ce vous vueil je bien aprendre. (I, p. 349). 135 32 Des ostes que j'oi au passage Vous vueil conter et de ma voie : (l, p. 342). Twenty-two imperatives take note of them, in such phrases as "Or escoutez"; "Sachiez" appears 7 times; "oiez" and "escoutez" 3 times; "ne cuidiez pas" twice. There are 90 instances of the first-person singular, seven of the first- person plural, and 64 of the second-person plural. The name of the poet is men- tioned four times, in much the same way as in Dit d'Hypocrisie: 18 Rustebuef qui rudement oeuvre 27 Prist Rustebues issi s'esmuet ; (1, p. 342). 207 Més Rustebués a ce respont (1, p. 351). and two lines which appeared also in Bataille (1, p. 307, W. 37-38): 661 Quar bien a soissante et dis anz, Se Rustebués est voirdisanz (l, p. 363). It is interesting to note one line reminiscent of Sainte Elysabel, "Et j'ai moult autre chose a fere, " (2, p. 112, v. 376), to which we have already referred (see p. 95 above). 44 Je vous de'r'sse de son estre Si je n'e'usse tant a fere (1, p. 343). which seems to convey his awareness of the length of the poem, and the many de- tails he is attempting to cover. Where he can, he will use a short cut, such as a proverb or a proverbial expression which has the impact of proverb : 656 Tant as, tant vaus et tant te pris. (cf. Morawski IT 2283). Fols est qui enchiés li ira 248 Que telle maniere en Ire a (1, p. 349). 308 Qui "Ia char du serpent" espont : C'est la venins qu'ele maintient : (I, p. 351). 136 It is difficult for us to imagine how a performer, however gifted, can hold the interest and attention of an audience for 902 lines. Let us remember, however, that the poem was recited during the Lenten season, a time of penitence and sac- rifice, when many were making the pilgrimage to Confession in the performance of the Easter Duty. Let us remember also Taylor's observation that for medieval man "reality lay behind and beyond, in that which the symbol symbolized and the allegory veiled" (see p. 52 above). Monsignor Pesce puts it this way: "Au fond, ces mosques, ces figures répondaient a un besoin qui est profondément enraciné dans l'esprit humain, celui de transposer Ie particulier, de la transcrire dans l'uni- versel et, en meme temps, celui d'incarner les idées, de les projeter, d'assister, pour ainsi dire, a leur choc pour en tirer sagement une legon. D'ailleurs la clef du langage allégorique était a la portée de tous" (p. 90). The ten poems designated in this chapter as "Sermon or Moralizing" have in common the theme of the Antichrist, whether it be expressed in polemic against the Mendicant Friars or the Church at Rome. Only three of them--the_D£ d'Hypocrisie, the Bataille des Vices contre les Vertus, and the Voie de Paradis, all of the allegory-dream variety--make use of dramatic devices such as plot, dialogJe and at least moral characterization. Three others--Du Pharisien, Etat du monde, and Des Jacobins-- contain prosopopeia, while the Complainte de Guillaume purports to be impersonation. None is truly mimetic, however, since the action takes place in the imagination of the hearers. Opportunities for gesture and mimicry have been cited, as have also the instances of irony and satire which color the poetic rhetoric and demonstrate Rutebeuf's awareness of his audience and his talent for manipulating them. self in t in the I During I celebra ries, Hi Abbot c l0CIOIS: arch as Chande “‘-. "IIICI‘I . the 0CI hcnae \ C H A PT E R 4 Poems of Serious Intent -- Marian Themes According to Ahsmann, the.cult of the Virgin, which was to manifest it- self in vernacular literature at the close of the 12th century, reaching its apogee in the 14th, appeared first in the form of lyric Latin verses in 6th century France.' During Charlemagne 's reign such lyrics enjoyed great vague and Alcuin himself celebrated the Holy Virgin in his "virgo perennis". In the 11th and 12th centu- ries, Hildebert, Bishop of Tours, Guibert de Nogent, and Pierre le V8n6rable, Abbot of Cluny, wrote about her with Christian fervor (p. 10). Ahsmann traces the literary evolution of the Marian cult to two principal factors: first, the development of devotional practices in honor of the Virgin, such as the feasts of the Assumption, the Nativity, the Annunciation, and the Chandeleur (so called because it was closely linked to the candlelight procession which took place on that day, equivalent to the English Candlemas) and second, the activity of the religious orders. Concomitantly, a cult of relics presumed to have miraculous powers was developing--a lock of the Virgin's hair was venerated in Paris, a piece of her habit in Aix-la-Chapelle, of her veil at Chartres. Statues of the Blessed Virgin proliferated in France, making of her "une veritable reine féodale, dont la statue était habillée de riches étoffes, parée de joyaux precieux, 'Hubertus Petrus Ahsmann, Le cultgde la sainte Vierge et la Iittérature frangaise profane du moyen age (Utrecht-Paris : 193%), p. 9. 137 QUIOY‘r ' scents all the rien de case a centur} hosed c ciscans this wc et les - II IaI |< Délais WGIEr Dieu e Compc Sentir PUiTOr veHer lite jc APSE: 138 couronnées d'un diademe oD étincelaient les diamants et les pierreries, avec Ie sceptre royal et Ie globe du monde en main" (p. 21). Verses dedicated to her appeared in the Chanson de Roland, and virtually all the other well-known gestes. Mention is made of her in the romans of Chré- tien de Troyes, three of them in the Conte du Graal, although there is no refer- ence at all to her in Cliges, or Ie Chevalier de la charrette. In the thirteenth century, Gautier de Coincy wrote his collection of Miracles de Nostre-Dame, based on Latin sources, and wide support was given to the Marian cult by the Fran- ciscans, the Victorins, and the Carmelites. The rise in papularity of the cult of the Virgin is explained by Ahsmann in this way: "L'Eglise n'avait pas encore réussi alors a adoucir Ia rudesse des moeurs, et les faibles avaient toujours a craindre la persecution des puissants et des riches. ll fallait donc un patron qui, désintéressé Iui-meme, pOt et voulOt secourir les Délaissés. Or, qui pourrait a meilleur droit figure comme tel, que celle qu'ils avaient appris a invoquer comme reine de I'univers, puisqu'elle était mere de Dieu et qu'on la regardait comme avocate du genre humain, a cause de I'extréme compassion qu'elle avait éprouvée au pied de la croix et qu'elle était censée res- sentir aussi a l'égard des affligés ?" (p. 85). Interestingly enough, the Blessed Mother appears in literature as the patron saint of the jongleurs, and Monsignor Pesce tells us that never was she venerated with such fervor as during the 13th century (p. 100, n 110), when the jongleur was in his prime. Although I have classed only five poems of serious intent as Marian (see Appendix A-ii) there will be occasion in ensuing chapters to point out the 139 special reverence and adulation the Virgin received from Rutebeuf. Here we are concerned mainly with the three poems dedicated to Notre Dame, and the hagio- graphical account of La Vie de Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne. Although la Vie de Sainte Elysabel, discussed elsewhere (pp. 93-96 above) is not, strictly speaking, an example of Marion but of hagiographical literature, I have included it with the Marian poems because of its similarity of genre with Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne. From the mimetic standpoint, the three dits of Notre Dame have no inter- est for us. They follow the traditional patterns for poems of this sort, and were doubtless written to celebrate a feast in the Virgin's honor. Un dist de Nostre Dame contains two lines in common with the Sacristain and Sainte Elysabel: 19 Se j'estoie bons escrivains Ainz seroie d'escrire vains (2, p. 236). F8.B are under the impression that the Sacrestain predated Sainte Elisabel, and in both of these the lines following the couplet are similar: Sacrestain Elysabel Que j'eiisse escrit Ia moitié Que j'e'Lisse dit la moitié 100 De l'amor et de I'amistié 988 De l'amor et de l'amistié Qu'a Dieu moustroit et jor Que Dieu moustroit et jor et nuit et nuit Encor dout je ne vous anuit. Et je clout qu'il ne vous anuit. (2, p. 217). (2, p. 131). but in the Dit de Nostre Dame, he speaks of "la terce part de sa bonté" instead of the half, and "ne la guarte ne rede‘r‘sme". Does this represent a first version sub- sequently enlarged upon, or a later version cut down ? An annominatio, not one of his most skillful uses of the device, on "card" ends the poem. 140 L'Ave Maria is more interesting. As indicated above, it is written in the tercet coué verse form. Starting out with an invitation to listen to the truth, Rute- beuf singles out "chanoine, clerc et roi et conte" who 13 N'ont cure des ames sauver, Més les cors baignier et Iaver Et bien norrir : (2, p. 240). They have no thought for death, when they will rot in the earth, their flesh eaten by worms, their souls burning in Hell. Let us all salute the Madonna Mild who keeps us from sin (W. 15—33). In a technique that recalls the early Latin tropes, he blends the words of the Latin prayer with the vernacular French. For each word of the Ave Maria, an embellishment of several lines, the Latin phrases beginning each thought, the vernacular developing them or associating them: Ave, ro'he coronee '. Cain de bone eure tu fus nee 36 Qui Dieu portas '. Theophilus reconfortas Quant sa chartre Ii raportas 39 Que I'Anemis, Qui de mal fere est entremis, Cuida avoir lacié et mis 42 En sa prison. Maria, si com nous Iison, Tu li envoias garison 45 De son malage, (2, p. 241). While a reference to ThéOphile and other of the Virgin's miracles was common enough in poems of this sort, Rutebeuf expounds on him for 35 lines (w. 37-42) before going on to gracia plena. Perhaps this is an indication that the Miracle had already been written, and the details were fresh in the poet's mind, parti— cularly since mention is made of the poet's having been signed with Théophile's blood, a touch F8.B credit to Rutebeuf's invention, as we have no prior indication (J iaI Pen hat 01'? The lilir 14] of this detail. If this is so, it would lend credence to the Ave Maria's contempo- raneity with the other tercet gage poems (see Appendix B). The only trace of courtly poetry in Rutebeuf is to be found in his poems to the Blessed Virgin. He plays the Knight to her Lady. She alone is worthy of hom- age and adoration as‘ the Ideal, the Perfect Woman. The verses dedicated to her have a haunting lyric quality, richly rhymed long vowels, liquid "l"s, humming nasals and fluid cadence. For example, this litany in the Ave Maria: Fols est qui en toi ne se fie. Tu hez orgueil et felonie H4 Seur toute chose ; Tu es li lis ou Diex repose ; Tu es rosiers qui porte rose 117 Blanche et vermeille ; Tu as en ton saint chief l'oreille Qui les desconsilliez conseille 120 Et met a voie ; Tu as de solaz et de ioie Tant que raconter n'en porroie 123 La tierce part. Fols est cil qui pensse autre part Et plus est fols qui se depart 126 De vostre acorde, (2, pp. 242-3). Unity is achieved through beginning and ending the passage with a proverb- ial construction "Fols est qui. . ." a formula which occurs often in Rutebeuf (see Ap- pendix A - iii). Sandwiched between these is an enumeration of metaphors. "Thou hatest pride and misdeed above all else; thou art the lily where God reposes ; thou art the rosebushes bearing white and red blossoms ; thou are the ear that counsels the disconsolate and sets them in the right path ; thou art comfort ; thou art ioy. " The metaphor of the rose to symbolize the Virgin is fairly common during the Middle Ages, the white rose representing unblemished purity, the red, the blood ‘ H. ell I42 of Christ. Several lines later, the relationship of "vermeil" to "sang" is pointed up with respect to the pact with the Devil which Thé0phi|e signed in his own blood: Et puis Ii fist, a sa dolor Du vermeil sanc de sa color 5] Tel chartre escrire (2, p. 24]). Then the formula is repeated, "foolish is he who thinks otherwise, and more foolish still he who departs from your peace '." There is a confusion of second-person pronouns and verb forms in the poem. As might be expected, Rutebeuf starts with the second-person singular, as does the Latin prayer. Then, for no apparent reason (v. 62), he addresses the Virgin as "vous", continuing the second-person plural for 26 verses (v. 88), when he reverts to the singular form, which prevails to the end of the poem, except for one "vous" in line 128. Foulet has this comment to make on the seeming idiosyncracy in medieval literature : "Ce ui sur end vraiment c'est la facilité avec la uelle on C: Pr . q passe du tu au vous et du vous au tu . . .Ces variations semblent se produire absolu- ment au hasard ; les circonstances n'y sont pour rien;. . .c'est dans la meme con- versation, parfois dans la meme phrase. . .Avons-nous affaire a une tradition pure- ment Iittéraire? Il est plus probable que nous recueillons ici l'écho d'un usage populaire, qui reste a déterminer." 2 There are 19 incidences of the "tu-toi-te-ton" forms; 13 of the "vous- vostre", two of which are directed to the audience rather than the Blessed Mother. The first-person singular appears five times (once referring to the Virgin's speaking of herself-~"Je sui t'ancele" (v. 156) ; and the first-person plural, ten times. In 2Lucien Foulet, Petit Syntaxe de I'ancien frangais (Paris: Champion, I970), pp. 198-201. I43 the second verse, Rutebeuf refers to himself in the third-person. Aside from this, he intrudes upon his audience only three times: IO C'est veritez que ie vous conte. (2, p. 240). 100 Se oom ie sui certains et fis, (2, p. 242). I03 C'est veritez que ie vous di. (2, p. 242). Of the four imperatives which appear in the poem, three are addressed to the Virgin: 86 Donez Ie nous ainsinques estre 95 Prie a ton fiI qu'i nous en terde (2, p. 242). 158 Prie a ton Fil qu'il nous apele (2, p. 244). and the last is directed at "us" : I64 Disonsm, qu'ainsi Ie vueiIIe '. (2, p. 244). As befits a prayer, then, the Ave Maria is "thou-you" oriented, and Virgin- centered. One feels that the intrusions of the poet occur more for exigencies of rhyme than for audience contact. C'est de Notre Dame has a verse form worth noting, since it is the only example we have in Rutebeuf of this particular strophic combination. Divided into five 9-Iine stanzas, constructed throughout on the same three rhymes "eur", I'a", and "ie", the first four verses are decasyllabic, the remaining five heptasyllabic. The rhyme scheme is a b a b c c a a c, giving the last five lines the semblance of a refrain although they differ in every stanza. These heptasyllables, being exactly half the meter of the quatrain, have a "hammering" effect, particularly when anaphora distinguishes them as in the final stanza: ainth maesi i adousn I I Even VII glnls nq “Uplin. I44 La Vierge Marie Vierge fu norrie Vierge Dieu porta Vierge I'aIeta, 45 Vierge fu sa vie. (2, p. 246). or in the second stanza, with the repetition of the coniunction "et" and the possessive adiective: Si pleur ma folie Et ma fole vie ; Et mon fol senz plour Et ma foIe errour 18 Cu trap m'entroblie. (2, p. 245). Verses I5-I7 seem to echo the chest-thumping gesture accompanying the "mea culpa" in Catholic litany, also repeated three times. In my apinion, the annominatio of the third stanza detracts from the seriousness of the theme: 22 Qui mout doute Ie bien qu'en Marie a, Car qui se marie En teiIe Marie Boen mariage a Marions nos la, 27 Si avrons s'a‘r‘e. (2, p. 245). Even viewed from the medieval standpoint where the imperative pun on the Vir- gin's name was acceptable, and the image of marriage was symbolically valid, the coupling of such word play with the short sing-song lines where the emphasis is al- ways on a prolonged) final vowel results in a seemingly trivial treatment of a de- vout concept. The poem emerges rather as an exercise in virtuosity--five stanzas built on three recurring rhymes--than a sincere evocation of the Virgin, such as we have in the Ave Maria. The last of the Marian poems to be examined is Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne. I45 It is narrative in form, being an account of the Saint's expiation for her early sins. F88 tell us that the legend is based on a Greek narrative, attributed to Sophronios, arch-bishop of Jerusalem, of which there were three translations or derivatives in Latin prose, including one by Paul the Deacon (2, pp. lO-II). All of these recounted the tale from the standpoint of Zozimas, a good priest but lack- ing in humility, whose encounter with the Egyptian taught him the virtue he had overlooked. By the end of the I2th century, however, the legend of Mary the Egyptian herself had grown to a point where an anonymous poem, found in Adgar's collection of Marian legends, begins with her story and greatly expands her role. There are marked similarities between the I2th century poem and Rutebeuf's ver- sion, but also significant differences (F88, 2, pp. II-I3). For example, the 12th century poem does not tell Zozimas' story before he confronts the Egyptian, as does Rutebeuf, who indeed seems to have felicitously combined the two traditions in his narrative. Paul the Deacon, addressing his manuscripts to Charles the Bold in the 9th century, paired the legend of Mary the Egyptian with the miracle of Theophilus, and the two were associated in the minds of the medieval public (F&B, 2, p. I68). This is understandable since they each illustrate the redeeming power of the Virgin for a repentant sinner. Rutebeuf dealt with both themes, cater- ing to their popularity with the public. The second longest of Rutebeuf's poems, Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne is about sixty per cent as long as Sainte Elysabel, yet, as I have intimated, there is a vast difference in tone and treatment between the two. We have no indication that it was written on demand, nor can the poem be documented as to date. It may there- fore be assumed that it formed part of the poet's repertory of recitations, and that has, ‘rIOJS matte :lms his in USIO Ilict ‘ :rlpti lone Yet I If" It lion Plot. l'herr ’--~_ _ ,h I46 he was free to exercise his poetic imagination and narrative skill in his own way. Thus, for his account of Mary the Egyptian he could take what he liked from pre- vious sources, embellish it, and bring his particular talents to bear on the subiect matter. With Sainte Elysabel, he was bound to a Latin version not of his own choosing, torn between giving an authentic rendition of someone else's words and his intuitive sense of what grips and holds an audience's attention. Therein, I am persuaded, lies the difference in the quality of the two poems. There are many dramatic aspects of Marie l'Egyptienne which might lead us to assume that the story would lend itself to mimetic representation. On closer look, however, it becomes apparent that there is no protagonist-antagonist con- flict between the characters. Each has his own inner $.33, better suited to des- cription than enactment. Indeed, the poem demonstrates Rutebeuf's superb gift for narration. The tone of mystic piety and faith is consistent throughout, as is the versification. Yet the effect on the audience of the skillfully contrived octosyllabic couplets, far from being monotonous as they are in Sainte Elysabel, is one of rapt absorp- tion in the plausible dialogue and highly evocative descriptions that enhance the plot. Events follow in natural sequence, the unifying redemptive thread stringing them into a harmonious entity. Beginning with a prologue of noteworthy economy (vv. I-26), Rutebeuf gets right down to his subiect. He will speak of a sinner, sick of soul as had been Mary Magdalen, who was saved from eternal torment by Our Lady of Mercy. F88 present the text as tripartite in structure: Part I being devoted to an account of the Egyptian's life; Part II, to Zozimas ; Part III to their encounter in the forest. I47 Yet I feel that this is not an accurate indication of the poem's structure, and would like to present it in five acts, divided into several scenes, more closely following the poet's manner of presentation. As I see it, Act I might be subtitled "The Pleasures of the Flesh", with the following scenes to implement it: 5 cc ne I We are introduced to Mary at the age of 12. While her origins are unknown, it is interesting to note that the poet evidently believes them to be gentle, and refers to her as "dame", supposing her the daughter of a count, aking, or an emperor. Physically, she is: 33 Plesant de cors, gente de vis ; Je ne sai que plus vous devis : Moult fu bien fete par defors 36 De quanqu'il aprtint au cars, (2, p. 2]). but morally, "li cuers fu et vains et voles" (v. 37). S ce ne 2 From Egypt, she goes to Alexandria where she sins in three ways: 45 Li uns fu de li enyvrer ; Li autres de son cors livrer Du tout en tout a la luxure : (2, p. 21). For seventeen years she gives herself over to every excess of debauched living. S ce ne 3 A group of good Christian 'preudommes" from Egypt and Libya are leaving their countries to move to Jerusalem, and Mary takes it into her head to accompany them and ply her trade aboard the ship. She indicates this desire to a man waiting on the dock, and he replies: I00 — M'amie, sachiez que li mestre Nel vous porront par droit desfendre Se vous Ior avez riens que tendre, Més vous oez dire a la gent : I04 "A l'uis, a l'uis qui n'a argent '." (2, p. 23)_ 13 ”a": I: «hi in m 35!)! ' iO-CDH‘ 558 wt met W Then I watch a...— -- I48 to which she retorts, "I have no money, nor anything to live on, 108 Més se leenz mon cors lor livre, ll me soufferront bien a tant." (2, p. 23). And indeed, she finds two young men who are willing to have her accompany them. S ce ne 4 Aboard the ship, she has a wonderful time, as the poet manages to convey without going into great detail: I37 Fornicacions, advoltire, Et pis assez que ne sai dire, Fist en la nef : ce fu sa feste. (2, p. 24). She was so beautiful, Rutebeuf says, that she lost many a soul to God and the poet wonders: 152 De ce me merveil sanz doutance Quant la mer, qui est nete et pure, Souffroit son pechié et s'ordure, Et qu'enfers ne la sorbissoit I56 Ou terre, quant de mer issoit. (2, p. 25). Then follows an image of God, his hands crossed upon his breast, waiting and watching, for God does not want her to die a sinner, and He is biding His time to convert her to the right path. S ce ne 5 The ship docks in Jerusalem, and she follows the two young men to the door of a church. It is Ascension Day, and as she prepares to enter the church, a strong force prevents her from crossing the threshold: I96 Ele ne pot en nule guise Metre le pié sor le degré (2, p. 26). Many times she tries, but to no avail. Suddenly, she realizes that God is giving her a sign that she is unworthy to enter his church. Weeping with despair, she does not know where to turn. ' Scene dutch, Tnere I trusts h BYou a $55, a II'II pm 'IIE 56w '79 Ilte rs.-- ._ I49 5 cc ne 6 Here the poet presents us with a touching tableau. Before the church, there is an image of the Glorious Lady, and : 252 256 Adonc se mist la bone fame A nuz genouz et a nuz coutes, Le pavement moille de goutes Qui des iex li chieent aval, Qui Ii moillent tout contre val Le vis et la face vermeille. (2, p. 28). There follows a beautifully lyric prayer to the Virgin, in which the Egyptian con- trasts herself with Notre Dame : 272 276 280 Virge pucele nete et pure, Si come Ia rose ist de l'espine Et tu es souef et oingnanz. Tu es ros'e' et ton Fils fruis ; Enfer fu par ton fruit destruis. Dame, tu amas ton ami, Et i'ai amé mon anemi. Chastee amas, et ie luxure : Bien sons de diverse nature Je et tu qui avons un non. (2, p. 29). "You and l have the same name, but how different are our natures", the Egyptian sobs, and continues with nine lines of litany, anaphoric, alliterative and poignant: 292 296 Par toi a fet maint biau miracle ; Par toi honore il toute fame ; Por toi a il sauvé mainte ame ; Par toi, portiere, at par toi, porte, Par toi brisa d'enfer Ia porte ; Par toi et por t'umilité, Par toi, por ta benignité Se fist serianz qui sires iere : Por toi, estoil'é et lumiere (2, p. 29). Her prayer finished, she seems "cured“ and is able to enter the church and hear the service. On leaving the church, she returns to the statue, swears that, flee- ing the world, she will renounce her life of sin, and asks guidance for living ; 00 I'll Inert, my, Her f I50 chastely. S ce ne 7 A voice instructs her to go past the Jordan River to the Church of Saint John, to repent, confess her misdeeds, and spend the evening there. Be- yond the river is a dense forest, and here she is to stay and do penance for her sins. On her way to comply with the voice's instructions, she meets a pilgrim and 377 Trois maailles, ce dist l'estoire, Li dona por Ie Roi de gloire. (2, p. 32). Then, having purchased three small rolls for sustenance, she continues her iour- ney. We watch her walk slowly offstage and that is the end of Act I. Act 2, I would subtitle "The Mortification of the Flesh and the Pleasures of the Spirit". It describes in vivid terms the Egyptian's life in the wilderness. The elements have tattered her clothes to the point of nudity : Sa robe deront et despiece, 440 Chascuns rains emporte une piece, Quar tant ot en son dos esté, Et par yver at par esté, De pluie, de chaut et de WM 444 Toute est deroute par devant. (2, p. 33). Her flesh is black as a swan's foot : Sa poitrine devint mossue, Tant fu de pluie debatue. Les braz, les lons dois et les mains 456 Avoit plus noirs, et c'ert du mains, Ses angles rooingnait aus denz. Ne samble qu'ele ait point de ventre, 460 Por ce que viande n'i entre. Les piez avoit crevez desus (2, p. 34). But the change is not merely physical. She has placed her heart and her soul in God. When she is pricked by a thorn, she ioins her hands and prays to God. For the first seventeen years, {devils tempt her night and day : I5I "Marie, qu'es tu devenue, 492 Qui en cest bois es toute nue ? Lesse le bois, et si t'en is I Fale fu quant tu i venis. (2, p. 35). But the Egyptian remains impervious to their lies, so well has she learned to lead the honest life, forgetting all evil. Here the poet leaves her and Act 2 comes to an end. Act 3 introduces us to Zozimas, a priest of good family, saintly from the cradle. His life has been spent serving God in Holy orders. In the first scene, we discover a flaw in his character. One day, he surveys the world about him and comes to the conclusion that none is equal to him in attributes, "Je sui Ie grains, il sont Ia paille" (v. 570). Such M, vaunting his perfection above other humans likens him to the perfection that is God, cannot go unchallenged, and Jesus sends the Holy Spirit to Zozimas, who addresses him iustly: I'Zozimas, moult as estrivé Et moult as ton cuer fors rivé. Quand tu dis que tu es parfez 580 Et par paroles et par fez, Voirs est: ta regle a moult valu ; Més autre voi est de salu : (2, p. 38). "And", continues the Spirit, "if you wish to seek the other way, leave your house, and your country and go to the Church right past the Jordan River. Do this at once." Without hesitation, Zozimas acknowledges God's will and departs. S ce ne 2 At the Church of Saint John, Zozimas is greeted by the Abbot, a humble and pious man who invites him to : Prenez autel com nous avons, 640 Que miex dire ne vous savons. Puis que Diex nous a mis ensamble, Bien en penssera, ce me samble: (2, p. 39). I52 During his stay at the monastery, Zozimas observes the saintliness of the friars, their faces suffused with divine grace, as they live their lives of penitence and sacrifice during the Lenten Season, but he still does not understand why God has led him there. 5 ca ne 3 On leaving Saint John's the confusion in Zozimas' spirit is exem- plified by his not knowing which road to take. At noon, he stops to pray, and, having done so, turns towards the east where he sees a shadow. He cannot tell if it is a man or a woman, but Rutebeuf does not keep us in su5pense, assuring the audience that it is indeed theEgyptian. Zozimas runs quickly towards the figure but Mary, although filled with ioy at the sight of a human form, runs away, a- shamed to be seen. The priest pursues her, calling out to her in God's name : Je to coniur de Dieu le roi 772 Que en ton cors metes aroi : Briefment te coniur par celui Qui refuser ne set nului, Par qui Ii tiens cors est desers 776 Et si brullez par ces desers, De qui tu Ie pardon atens, Que tu m'escoute et si m'entens." (2, pp. 43-4). The reference to "desers" is puzzling, since the poet has told us she retired to a dense forest, and makes several earlier references to "bois“ and "bocage". It is perhaps possible to understand the term here in its connotation of "isolated", yet the picture is unclear, particularly in view of the participle "brullez". But the place was not important, only the idea of the place, for, as we have seen, geo- graphy was of little moment to the medieval mind. Mary's reply underscores the change in her character. Addressing him as "Pere Zozimas", she says: I53 Une fame sui, toute nue ; 792 Ce a moult grant desconvenue. (2, p. 44). Zozimas is badly shaken to hear her call his name, and recognizes it as a sign that he is in the right place. Tossing her one of his garments, he awaits her re- appearance. Mary emerges from the shadows, fully covered, and they confront each other. Briefly, she introduces herself : Més ie sui une pecherresse Et de m'ame murtrisserresse. Par mes pechiez, por mes mesfez 812 Et par les granz maus que i'ai fez Ving ci fere ma penitance." (2, pp.44-5). Recognizing her saintliness, Zozimas kneels at her feet and asks her to bless him. Oh, no, she is not worthy to bless him. First, because "fame sui, vous estes horn" (v. 822) and second, because : 840 Prestres estes, si devez dire. (2, p. 45). It is he who must bless her. Each begs the other for a blessing, but Mary remains adamant in her humility, and finally after she despairingly cries out that he must be a phantom, an evil spirit, come to deceive her, Zozimas gives in : 90I Lors a levee sa main destre Si le seigna du Roi celestre ; La croiz li fist el front devant ; (2, p. 47). She enioins him to keep her secret even from the abbot, and makes a prophecy. "Tell the abbot to take care of his eyes, " she says, "and you yourself will be very ill during the forty days of Lent, well again by Holy Thursday, at which time I pray you to come to me and bring me the Eucharist in a clean vessel, so that I may partake of the body and blood of Our Lord. I shall await you here, by the river. Pray for me" (w. 940-968). F88 point out that these lines follow closely 154 the 12th century manuscript, indeed that whole verses are borrowed from it, but it is quite unlikely that Rutebeuf would tamper with a well-known segment of the account, and there would be value in the audience's familiarity with the material, enabling them to apprehend the dialogue quickly. Act 3 ends with Mary leaving Zozimas alone on the stage where he kneels in prayer, kissing the earth where she stood. She has been his mirror, as the Holy Virgin was hers. In the revelation of true humility, he perceives the enormity of his arrogance. The next twenty lines are a narrated interlude, describing the priest's re- turn to the monastery and his illness which came to pass just as the Egyptian had predicted. Act 4 begins with Zozimas' arrival at the river, but Mary is nowhere to be found. He prays to God to reveal her to him. Mary is very weak, unable to keep the appointment, but God miraculously transports her across the Jordan to where Zozimas awaits her, and she receives communion from him. The priest speaks to her in a litany that F88 point out is loosely reminiscent of the credo: 1052 Cil qui d'enfer nous a fet quites 1054 C'est cil qui par anoncement. . . C'est cil qui nasqui sans pechié C'est cil qui souffri atachié Son cors en la croiz et cloé, 1060 C'est cil qui nasqui au Noé, C'est cil de qui est nostre Iois C'est cil qui conduist les trois rois (2, p. 52). The anaphora of "C'est cil? or "cil qui", or "C'est Ii" is scattered throughout the passage (w. 1052-1081). Mary makes a second prophecy. "Next year when you come, " she tells him, "you will find me, dead or alive, at the place where first we met, but a i first: when j hgadd ml Il't Shecsk gflnt htnni stdthl l'alr, sl mlecr Nostre \ Illeom that c EHdInC theme hatd 155 do not betray my secret. " F88 note that keeping her whereabouts a secret seems to be a Rutebeuf touch, since it is not found in previous manuscripts. It is a tell- ing addition to the story, pointing out the humility of the Egyptian who does not want the world to know of her penance, a private matter between herself and God. She asks him for a bit of wheat, which he gives her, and of which she eats three grains. For thirty years, the poet informs us, she has eaten neither bread nor pastry. Returning to her abode, Mary prays to God for the death she knows is at hand and, stretching herself out on the ground, "presque nue", wrapping herself in her long hair, she crosses her hands on her chest, closes her eyes and her lips, and, with no fear of the devil: Ala Marie avoec Marie. Li mariz qui la se marie N'est pas mariz a Marion ; 1144 Bien est sauvez par Marie horn Qu'a Marie s'est mariez, Qu'il n'est pas uns mesmariez. (2, p. 54), Note the annominatio on "mari" with word play similar to that of C'est de Nostre Dame, yet it does not grate on the ear, but flows naturally into the main- stream of the poem. Is it merely a matter of versification ? The sing-song, some- what choppy verses of C'est de Notre Dame are heptasyllabic, in short breath groups, ending on an "a" or an "ie" sound (see p. 144 above). In Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne, the meter is octosyllabic, more majestic, better suited to the tone of the poem. But that does not entirely account for the difference. The liquid "1"s, the humming "m"s, the repetition of the two-syllable "mari", reminiscent of the muezzin's call, marry the sound to the sense in a lyric litany that produces a profound kinetic effect on the audience. Here, the poet does not "show off" his virtuosity, but lets IT spefll' alt‘nel He reh 156 it speak for itself. It is annominatio at its best, and a fitting tribute to the death of the Egyptian. Act 5 of our drama shows Zozimas returned to the scene, anxious because he does not even know the name of his saint. Miraculously, an inscription at her head announces "C'est Marie I'Egypcienne" (v. 1200). Her body, remarkably in- tact, untouched by bird ar warm, reposes above the ground in the attitude in which Death claimed her. Suddenly, a lion appears, but Zozimas is unafraid of the beast, for he can tell by his humble mien that he has been sent by God. Telling the lion who Mary was, he enlists the animal's aid in digging her grave. The lian readily complies and after a deep trench has been dug, Zozimas takes Mary by the head, the lion takes her by the feet, and together they lay her gently in the grave, covering her with earth. When she has been buried, the lion runs off, leaving Zozimas to thank God : Et dist : "Diex, bien sai sanz doutance Fols est qui en toi n'a fiance. Bien m'as manstré, biaus tres douz Sire, 1244 Que nus ne se dait desconfire. (2, p. 57). He returns to the monastery and gives an account of the miracle he saw, in which the poet sums up all the details, impressing them once more upon his hearers. Then, Rutebeuf addresses them: 1289 Et nous tuit nous en amendon Tant cam nous en avons bandon ; (2, p. 58). and beseeches them, including himself in the first-person plural of the imperative: N'atendons pas iusqu'a la mort : 1292 Nous serions trahi et mart, Quar cil se repent trap a tart Qui par pendre a au col la hart. (2, p. 58). l'nen’ 157 The poem ends with the "Let us pray" characteristic of his sermon poems, but here he adds a note of advertising, though it follows normally from the "us" to the "me" orientation: Par moi qui ai non Rustebuef (Qui est dit de rude et de buef) Qui ceste vie ai mise en rime, 1304 Que iceste dame saintisme Pfit Celui cui ele est amie Que il Rustebuef n'oublit mie '. (2, p. 59). The repetition of "rude" and "buef" seem to be an attempt to fix his name in the audience's consciousness. Undeniably, he had reason to be proud of the authorship of Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne, and there were no copyright laws to protect him in the Middle Ages. Indeed, he introduced himself with some finesse, saying that he, too, Rutebeuf the versifier of this poem, would pray to the Friend of Mary the Egyptian not to forget him when the sheep were separated from the goats. The progression of the Plot is admirable, moving from the "I" who will tell you this tale, to the "You" who will listen to it, to the "She" about whom I Speak, to the "He" about whom I speak, to the "They" confronting each other in the forest. Then, inversely, from the "She" who dies alone in the wilderness to the "He" who buries her and finds his own salvation to the "We" "you and I" who pray together to the "I" of the poet who will also pray to Mary's Friend. u. the The tee IIIOC Tho. 158 In 39 pages, the poet intrudes in the first-person singular (aside from the advertising at the end) only 13 times, as compared with his 41 pages of intrusion in a total of 66 in Sainte Elysabel (see above p. 94). Only two of these intrusions meet the exigencies of rhyme : 34 Je ne sai que plus vous devis : (2, p. 21). 430 Tant chemina, que vous diroie ? (2, p. 33). the others legitimately furthering the narration, for example: 86 Que ie vous oi oi devant dite : (2, p. 23). 138 Et pis assez que ne sai dire, (2, p. 24). 152 De ce me merveil sanz doutance (2, p. 25). 519 Or vous lerai ester la dame Qui le cars pert par garder l'ame, Si vous dirai d'une gent sainte (2, p. 36). The beautifully-told tale carries the interest of the audience without the poet's need to interiect himself personally to sustain audience contact. Rutebeuf has made the material his own and handles it with consummate artistry of Language— Thought and Diction. There is an interesting illustration of the medieval disregard for chrono- logy in the poem. We are told that the Egyptian was twelve years old when she left her home to go to Alexandria, where she lived seventeen years in debauchery "San tresor estoit de mal fere" (v. 59). At twenty-nine, then, she goes to Jeru- salem and repents, Spending the rest of her life in the wild forest. The question arises as to how long the rest of her life was. Our first inkling is the description of her years in the desert where, her clothes in tatters: 468 Plus de quarante anz ala nue. (2, p. 34). 159 From this, one would assume that she was 69 when she died. However, in her prayer to God before Zozimas, on their second meeting, she says: 1089 Quarante et neuf anz t'ai servi (2, p. 53). That would place her age at 78 at the time of her death. Yet a few lines farther on the poet tells us 1115 Trente anz at esté eI Ieu gaste Que n'ot mangié ne pain ne paste. (2, p. 53-4). Since we know that all she bought before going to the monastery of Saint Jean was three small rolls, and that there no baking facilities in the wilderness, it would appear that the "thirty" was not meant to be taken literally. Indeed, none of the dates should be taken literally, nor is her age at the time of death of any importance. The numbers 3, 12, 7, and multiples of 7 (such as 49) had a mystic connotation bath for the ancient and the medieval mind. A look at the numbers mentioned in the poem will confirm this. The story starts when Mary was 13. She sinned in_3 ways in Alexandria where she spent _1_7 years in de- bauchery. For the next 1_7 years, she was tormented night and day by the Devil and his demons. She served God for 19 years. Went nude for more than _4_0_ years (possibly 4_9?) indeed until Zozimas lent her a garment. And ate no bread farfl) years. All of this boils down to "a long time", and has no chronological signifi- cance. Yet the numbers contribute to the supernatural effect. There are many examples in the saint's life of the “marvelous", characteristic of the "matiere de Bretagne" and found in the romans of Chrétien de Troyes. The Egyptian can 160 prophecy. She is too weak to walk but she is tranSparted over the Jordan by God's help. The monastery of Saint Jean and the Jordan River are endowed with Special qualities, form the focal point for the crossing of two disparate lives. Then there is the lion, tame and agreeable, sent by God to help Zozimas inter the saint. How did the inscription get there? How did Mary know Zozimas' name, and that he was a priest? Again we see time, space and reality negated by the supernatural so beloved of medieval audiences. AS has been seen, detailed descriptions are rare in Rutebeuf. Certainly, this was not from lack of descriptive skill, because when it is requisite to convey concept, the poet has shown his mastery of the art. For the most part, he made use of symbol, litany, ritual, proverb, Biblical allusion and quotation, whatever could be quickly perceived and assimilated to focus attention on the substance of his verses. But when, as in the case of Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne, plot and character were necessary to implement theme, he used description to advantage. Clearly, the Egyptian emerges as the heroine of the piece. It is not enough to detail the events of her life. She must be portrayed as flesh and spirit, easily identifiable Sinner and saint, at once symbol and reality. The success of the message depended on how finely "la bone fame" was drawn, physically and morally. While an exemplum, she is made real with deft details illuminating her portrait—-the three mailles she gives to the pilgrim right after her conversion, her modesty about showing herself to Zozimas in her nudity, her insistence that he tell no one about her, the great time she had on board the ship going to Jerusalem, all add dimen- sion to the account of her grace. The touching image of her prayer to the Virgin, 161 her tears, her desperation are compassionately evoked by the poet and show a con- siderable talent for character delineation both in description and dialogue. Even the digressions, when Rutebeuf wonders that the pure, clean sea will suffer her adultery, that Hell does not engulf her, or the land swallow her up when She leaves the Ship, intensify the mood of the narration, which is certainly more than can be said of Sainte Elysabel . His description of the degeneration of her flesh-- blackened, emaciated, martyred in the wilderness--so that her body takes on the ugliness of her sins, contrasts with the beauty and grace of her spirit, given over completely to God, all wordliness purged through suffering and privatian. The physical is not important in Zozimas' case, therefore it was not pre- sented. His is a moral portrait, his function being to Show that even a good and pious man may Sin in ways he does not realize. Unaware of his arrogance in de- claring himself "substance" (M) as opposed to “shadow" (paille), he betrays his flaw in the very metaphor he chooses to vaunt his perfection. Yet he sincerely seeks God and the true road to salvation, and it is the friars of Saint Jean, their faces suffused with divine grace, who prepare him for the encounter with the wraith of a once beautiful woman withering in the forest. The church of Saint Jean is the literal and figurative crossroads where two diSparate lives touch for awhile before continuing their separate iourneys to Paradise. It is at once the way of the Cross and the point at which they cross paths, the Egyptian being al- most at the end of her road, the priest with many miles to travel still before his final destination is reached. It is also the crossraad of Zozimas' life, for he must find his own way, as the abbot tells him when he does not know which road to take . 162 As in Greek tragedy, the universal truth is derived from the individual conflict. A rehabilitated sinner becomes the instrument of salvation for a flawed priest, in a pictorializatian of the conflict between God and the Devil for the souls of men. Sin is not always blatantly recognizable. Even the best of us is im- perfect. It is only through the transfiguration of the animal body by the Divine Spirit that one may achieve salvation, a process which begins with repentance, leads to confession, and through penance to Paradise. Although it ends with a prayer, sermon-fashion, a case might be made for Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne as a "poeme dialogué", in view of the sequence of scenes and instances of realistic dialogue that abound in it. Yet I do not feel that the poet treated it in that way. While there are ample opportunities for diction in the portrayal of Mary as a girl of twelve, as a prostitute, aboard the ship, the effect of the poem as a whole leads me to think that Rutebeuf treated it as straight narra- tive, with eloquent dignity of voice and gesture. It does not seem to me to be a performance piece in the mimetic sense of the word, but a story recited rather than enacted. The poem is devoid of satire or irony and l have a strong feeling that its effectiveness lay in the declamatory ability of the poet, in the nuance of tonal- ity that made the verses and their images come alive, in the mood of piety and faith and miracle that he engendered in his audience. In Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne I see the story-telling rather than the dramatic artistry of the iongleur. Summary of the poems of Serious Intent What has the study of these 36 poems elicited in the way of dramatic ele- ments ? We find four of the poems having Plat : 163 The Crusade poem: Disputaison du croizé et du Décroizé The Allegory-Dreams: Dit d'Hypocrisie Voie de Paradis The Marian: Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne and five containing dialogue, in addition to the above four, the polemic, Dit de Guillaume de Saint -Amour. The remaining poems are in "monologue" form, although they are in reality a "dialogue" between poet and audience. The impersonation in the Complainte de Guillaume is not mimetic, but purports to be a monologue of Mother Church. Only the Disputaison may be accounted mimetic. The others, despite their interaction of Plot and Characters, are narrative, although they provide Diction possibilities in impersonation, voice tonality, gesture and even pantomime. Themes are serious, and their purpose is edification, the iangleur emerging as essentially a writer-commentator-publicist rather than an entertainer. His talents as a performer, or narrator, are secondary to the poet's role, used to enhance concept rather than as a showcase for their display. Characterizations, with the exception of Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne, are limited to moral portraits, and the .vehicle for allegory is prOSOpopeia, for the most part lacking the Prudentian des- criptive action and detail, except in the Voie de Paradis. Yet Rutebeuf has shown he is capable of deft character delineation and that, in the words of Faral, "II 0 1e sens de la vie et du concret, habile a camper des personnages, a noter Ieurs gestes, leur fagon habituelle de parler " (I, p. 58). While the intent is consistently serious, in view of the themes treated, the tone is often ironic, as we have seen in the polemics and the Crusade poems, I64 and in the Bataille des Vices et des Vertus, where he exposes to ridicule, says the opposite of what he intends, provokes to mocking laughter by cogent detail and vivid image. With the exception, however, of certain passages, such as the one cited in C'est de Notre Dame where the intent of the poem is marred by the versification and annominatio, the tone enhances his intent and pinpoints the de- sired effect. There are certain genres discernibly seriaus--allegory, dream, fable, bataille, état du monde, plaies du monde, voies, and eulogy--in that they occur only among the 36 poems cited in this chapter. The some might be said of the two Chansons, except that he chooses this genre which is usually associated with light-hearted, gay love poems, to express polemic (cf. Chanson des Ordres) or to exhort to the Crusades (cf. Chanson de Pouille). While the complainte appears most frequently in the Crusade poems, he also uses the form for one of his personal lyrics of comic intent, Complainte de Rutebeuf, since it is in the form of a lament. The tencon also appears in the DiSputaison de Charlot et du barbier, another per- formance piece though its intent is comic rather than serious as in the case of Du croisé et du décroisé. As for Marian literature, Ie Sacrestain et la femme au chevalier and the Miracle de Théophile, although serious, are decidedly dramatic in intent, and of course the "dit", as we have seen in the Introduction, cannot be classified as to intent. I have sought to point out the opportunities for Diction that exist in the poems of serious intent, as they occurred, but there is neither Spectacle nor Song to be discerned, for they are primarily rhetorical in treatment. 165 We can therefore point out a relationship between Theme and Genre, and Devices and Intent, all being monologue in essence, with dialogue interSpersed in five poems for dramatic (or narrative) purposes. Only one of the serious poems may be considered mimetic (the DiSputaison) although opportunity exists in many others for mime, gesture and tonality. The relationship of Tone-Intent to Lexicon is a bit more complex, in that it is not only indicative of Theme and Intent but also of audience awareness. Can- sonant with the subject matter, the vocabulary bears out the preoccupation with salvation. Much use is made of quickly seized symbol, of proverb and proverbial constructions, such as the formula cited above, "Fols est qui. ." (p. 141. See also Appendix A-iii). There are frequent Biblical allusions and paraphrases, mainly of Matthew, but also Romans and Psalms, as well as the reference to Jonah in Du Pharisien (I, p. 250-51), already cited. As would be expected, there are several references to the Devil, nine as " Li Maufei" (with variant Spellings) and three aS "L'Annemi", but these occur also in the poems of comic and dramatic intent. I have also pointed out the four references to "avril et mays", and the oft-used adjective "eSperitable" to qualify God. "Le patrimoine a crucefi" ap- pears SIX‘ times, with slight variation, and we have already singled out the in— cidence of the adiectives "net et pur“, and the annominatio on card, mar, and mari . Colors are most often represented by "black", "white", "gray" and " vermeil“, all fraught with religious symbolism. The rose is also used symbolically: 56 Rose est bien sor espine assise. (1, p. 241). 48 Li rosiers est poignanz, et s'est souef la rose. (1, p. 316). 166 273 Si com la rose ist de l'eSpine (2, p. 29). 277 Tu es rose at ton Fils fruis ; (2, p. 29). 116 Tu es rosiers qui porte rose (2, p. 243). and the lily appears twice with reference to the Virgin. The Polemic poems add "bougre" and one sort of animal imagery--Iion, scorpion, viper, both "renard" and "gorpis", bear, serpent--as well as domestic animals, such as "chat" and the already cited "char at noire con pié de cigne " in Sainte Marie l'Egyptienne (2, p. 34, v. 452). There is also an image reminis- cent af Mallarmé's sonnet, "Le Vierge, le vivace, et le bel auiourd'hui" : 151 Autant come l'aie seur Ia glace (1, p. 292). Although "pance" occurs frequently (see Appendix A - v), it is also used in the poems of comic and dramatic intent, as we shall see, and cannot rightfully be limited to serious Lexicon. It is interesting to note the recurrence of certain words that Rutebeuf associates with the Mendicants and the clergy. Somehow, the Mendicants are paired with "boug‘es", usurers, and malefactors in the Crusade poems, and "hypocrites" in the polemic. The clergy, however, are associated in Rutebeuf's mind not so much in metaphor as in metonymy. They are inevitably creatures of "belly". Significantly absent is the vocabulary of the love lyric, gay descriptions of nature and gallantry towards the lady fair. Imagery is inclined either towards good living (such as the wine made from a vine God must have planted himself, in Dit d'Hypocrisie) and the frequent references to "pance" and "faire bonne chere", or to the grimness of the grave, and the tortures of Hell harvested by Sin. 167 There are many latinisms which attest to Rutebeuf's university training, such words as "iluec" (sometimes Spelled ilueques); "nasqui"; "nonostenté; "cui"; and an echo of the ablative case in : 623 Je vueil que I'apreneza_mi_ (1, p. 362, italics mine). With respect to awareness of audience, Lexicon yields many examples of the poet's personal intrusion into his subiect matter. These are sometimes made necessary by the exigencies of rhyme, but they occur frequently enough to have significance aside from that. His name is mentioned, in one connection or another, 23 times. He shows a fondness for the expression "endrait de moi" and an obsession for insisting on the veracity of his statements, with such phrases as "Je di par voir non pas devin", "Ne cuidez pas que ce soit guile", and "Si com moi samble" (see Appendix A - iv for the incidence of such expressions). He seems also to be very aware of audience attention span and "making a long story short", as in the oft-recurring: 401 Que vous iroie ie aloignant Ne mes paroles parloingnant ? (I, p. 355). and 116 Que vous iroie plus rimant ? (2, p. 104). (See Appendix A-v for incidence). He takes the audience into his confidence with such remarks as "Je ne sai que plus vous diroie" and "Que vous diroie ?". From the standpoint of Grammar, we have indicated the incidence of im- peratives, exclamations, rhetorical questions, "you" and "they" oriented poems. A glance at Table 3 will round out the grammatical portrayal of the poet's aware- ness of audience, showing incidence with respect to number of lines. 168 TABLE 3 lst Person 2nd Person No. of SING. PLUR. SING. PLUR. IMPER. INTER. LINE 169 Seventeen of the poems of serious intent are written in octosyllabic couplets, the accepted narrative verse form, but Since the same versification appears in the 5 fabliaux, we cannot attach it exclusively to the poems of serious intent, but rather to those of narrative intent. The tercet caué has already been discussed (see also Appendix B) and would seem to be equally divided between poems of serious and comic intent, while markedly used in the poems of dramatic intent. Four of the poems, however, are of twelve-syllable meter and there is no compar- able versification in the poems of comic intent, although the verse form does ap- pear in the Miracle de Théophile, of dramatic intent. Two of these are Crusade poems --Dit de Pouille and Voie de Tunes--and the remaining two, polemic-- Des Jacobins and Des Cordeliers--so that this verse form may be said to be ex- clusively used for poems of serious intent. As we have seen, Rutebeuf's serious poems, those tied to his news commentator, publicist, editorialist function, are largely rhetorical rather than dramatic, but they clearly indicate the author's awareness and manipulation of his audience and attest to the double métier of performer-poet. C H A P T E R 5 Poems of Comic Intent Though the greatest proportion of Rutebeuf's poems were of serious intent, he is perhaps known to a larger public for his personal lyrics, most often quoted in anthologies. Indeed, these are the poems for which he has been likened to Villan, although they represent only about a third of his poetic output. Comic intent is defined in Chapter 1 as having a low (or lower) purpose, seeking to arouse to action through laughter, using satire, irony, parody-burlesque, or what- ever might point up incongruity (p. 33 above). Such classification cannot be clear—cut, however, for as we have seen in the polemics, Rutebeuf uses laughter in its derisive form in poems of serious intent to instruct, or edify, or arouse to action. It is through this divergence of tone (comic) and intent (serious) that the poet achieves for his audience what Olsen terms "the pleasure bath of learning-- through recognizing the ridiculous thing precisely as ridiculous. .7-and of emotional satisfaction" (m, p. 38). For such is the power of comedy that it often "produces its characteristic relaxation by treating lightly things which we take most seriously" (MI p. 39‘). This is the purpose of the comedian's patter or mano- logue, to induce what Aristotle calls katastasis, or a lessening of tension and con- cern, by palpably presenting the ludicrous aspect of the situation in question. For the audience, solvent in the face of the raconteur's bankruptcy, wise where he is foolish, strong where he is weak, sober where he is drunk, continent where he is lecherous, the laughter kindles a complacent glow of superiority. 170 171 While the poems of serious intent illuminate for us the social, political and moral facets of the times, the fifteen poems to be dealt with in this chapter portray the human Side of 13th century life, at the level of the individual coming to grips with his personal problems and vicissitudes. Listed according to title, genre and--where possible--date, in Appendix C, they are linked by theme and treatment to Rutebeuf's role of entertainer. The maiority are performance pieces destined to amuse, to divert the mind of the listener from his own preocuppations by providing the release of laughter and its attendant appreciation of the talented fellow who provoked it--an appreciation which, hopefully, would translate itself into compensation. Yet, laughter and tears are closer than they appear to be, and although some of the personal lyrics do not, by definition, warrant classifica- tion among the poems of serious intent, they are more akin to the tragic than the comic tone, and seem perhaps to solicit Sympathy rather than laughter. 1. Personal Lyrics Eight of the poems designated as of comic intent may be classed as"personal" in that they either contain the name "Rutebeuf" in their titles, make reference to it in the body of the poem, or purport to be first-person monologues. All are in the iongleresque tradition, reminiscent of the camedian's patter--monologues of misfortune, exaggerated for comic effect, yet with enough truth to create plausi- bility, embellished with cogent imagery and colloquial vocabulary, exposing human weakness and the disasters engendered by folly or bad luck. These are the lyrics concerning which critics have raised the question of authenticity with respect to biographical detail (see p. 2 above). While I cannot 172 subscribe to the idea that Rutebeuf, writing for pay, did not reflect personal corn- mitment to the causes espoused in his poems of serious intent (pp. 90-92 above), I am in accord with Ham that the personal lyrics were not intended as autobiogra- phy. He quotes Leia Spitzer in this connection: "We must assume that the medi- eval public saw in the 'poetic l' a representative of mankind, that it was interested only in the representative rale of the poet" (" Pauper and Polemist", p. 228). This assumption is undeniably valid for the poems of comic intent. Whereas an editori- alist, to be convincing, must believe in what he says if he is to persuade others to his point of view, the comedian is not so obligated. "Anything for a laugh" is his credo, for his realm is the ludicrous, his purpose to provide a realistic framework for a comic fiction, and the use of the first-person Singular is not intended to mis- lead the audience as to the veracity of content. The facts in themselves are not important, but the point they illustrate and the katastasis they induce. In these monologues of misfortune, the iongleur assumes a comic identity-- the gambler who is always losing at dice, the "Mal Marié" (see Ham,"" Pauper and Polemist", p. 229) or the "compaignon a Job" whose every move is dogged by dis- aster. It is not Rutebeuf the man who Speaks but the character he is impersonating. In much the same way, the vaudeville performer of yesteryear and the television star of today have created comic identities for themselves as misers, tapers, lechers, or inept foals. Their public does not confuse this stage image with the man himself but gives tacit consent to the fiction for laughter's sake. Since assumption of comic identity is more apparent in some of the personal lyrics than it is in others, it may be useful for us to group them in terms of similar- ity of tone, versification and possible dating (see Appendix C - ii). 173 TERCET COUE MONOLOGUES The four monologues utilizing this verse form are the longest of the personal lyrics, ranging from 107 to 165 lines. Conceivably, they were all written during the some period-~1260-62 (see Appendix B)--and the conversational cadence of the tercet coué lends itself admirably to the monologue form. While the twelve line Ribauds de Greve is not in the same verse form, its theme and imagery prompt me to include it in this group. Specifically, they hold these themes in common: POVERTY AND PRIVATION Griesche d'hiver 4 Par povreté qui ma aterre Mon dit commence trap diver 9 De povre estoire Povre sens et povre memoire M'a Diex doné, Ii rois de gloire, 12 Et povre rente 21 De grant poverte Povretez est sur moi reverte (I, p. 522). 66 Et ie que fais Qui de povreté sent Ie fais? (I, p. 524). Griesche d'été 57 La borse est vuide (I, p. 528). 91 A I'endemain povre se truevent ; Li dui dé povrement se pruevent. (I, p. 530). Mariage Rutebeuf Et s'estoit povre et entreprise 31 Quant ie la pris. C'ar sui povres et entrepris 34 Ausi comme ele '. (I, p. 548). 100 Par ma poverte ; Complainte Rutebeuf Griesche d 'hiver Griesche d'été Complainte Rutebeuf Complainte Ru tebeuf 103 20 67 174 Ja n'ai sera ma porte ouverte, Quar ma meson est trap deserte Et povre et gaste : Sovent n'i a ne pain ne paste. Diex m'a fet compaignon a Job, Que Ia povretez ne me nuise Et que miex son vivre Ii truise Que ie ne fais '. GAMBLING AND DEBT 75 78 18 36 92 Trap ai en mauvés Ieu marchié: Li dé m'ont pris et emparchié : Je les claim quite '. Fols est qu'a Ior conseil abite : De sa dete pas ne S'aquite, Aincais s'encombre ; Et la griesche est si aperte Qu' "eschec" dit "a la descouverte" A son auvrier, La griesche est de tel maniere Qu'ele veut avoir gent legiere En son servise : Une eure en cote, autre en chemise. Mi gage sont tuit engagié FAIR-WEATHER FRIENDS 112 121 Que sont me ami devenu Que l'avoie si pres tenu Et tant amé ? Je cuit Ie vens les a osté, L'amor est morte ; Ce sont ami que vens enporte, (I. P- (I. p- (I. P- (l, p- (I. P- (I. P- (I, p. (I. p. (I. P- 550) . 553) . 555). 524) . 526). 528) . 556). 557). 557). I75 Griesche d'hiver 87 Et nus ne l'aime. Cil qui devant cousin le claime Le dit en riant : "Ci faut traime. . ." (I, p. 524). In keeping with the gloom of his themes, the poet provides bleak imagery to complement them, sketching strokes of black, white and gray. He evokes: The melancholy mood of autumn: Griesche d'hiver Contre Ie tens qu'arbre desfueille Qu'il ne remaint en branche fueille 3 Qui n'aut a terre, (l, p. 521). Ribauds de Greve 2 Li aubres deSpaillent Ior branches (1, p. 531). Mariage Rutebeuf 5 Qu'arbres n'a faille, oisel ne chante (l, p. 547). The winds of winter: Griesche d'hiver 12 Et povre rente, Et froit au cul quant bise vente : Li vens me vient, Ii vens m'esvente 15 Et trap sovent Plusors fo'r'es sent le vent. (I, p. 522). lssi sui com l'asiere franche Ou com li oisiaus seur la branche : 36 En esté chante, En yver plor et me gaimante Et me desfuel ausi cam I'ente 39 Au premier giel. (I, p. 523). Griesche d'été Juingnet le fet sambler fevrier : 21 La dent dit : "Cac", (I, p. 526). Cimplainte C'or n'ai de dausaine ne fais, 70 En ma meson, De busche par ceste seson 176 Et si me sont nu Ii costé 79 Contre l'yver. (I, p. 555). Ribauds de Greve Et vos n'aveiz de robe point, 4 Si en avreiz froit a voz hanches. Vas aIeiz en estei si iaint 8 Et en yver aIeiz si cranche '. (I, p. 531). Flies and Snowflakes: G riesche d'hiver Noire mousche en esté me point, 33 En yver blanche. (I, p. 522). Ribauds de Greve Les noires mouches vos ant point, 12 Or vos repoinderont les blanches. (I, p. 531). Certainly, the themes of these performance pieces are of a serious nature, but, as Olsen has said, comic effect is achieved by "treating lightly things which we take most seriously" . It is precisely this incongruity of theme and tone--what Ham refers to as the "easy cheerlessness" (p. 228), or "frolicsome self-pity" (p. 229) with which Rutebeuf catalogues his woes--that invites the audience to laugh. Over the centuries, a number of stereotypes have evolved the mere mention of whom triggers a comic response--the clown, for example (see p. 37 above), the cuckolded husband, the scheming servant, the miser, the miles gloriosus, the charlatan, the capulating cleric, to name the more venerable legacies from the theatre of antiquity, as well as their medieval counterparts. They are not portraits, but caricatures, and Rutebeuf evokes two such comic figures in the Mariage and the Complainte, referred to above as the"Mal Marié" and "compaignon a Job". The Mariage takes place in autumn, "when trees are leafless, and birds don't sing". Loosely translated into the modern idiom, the beginning sounds 177 somewhat like this (W. 17-42) : What a mess I'm in. I'd be better off if they sent me to Egypt. There's nothing I can do except moan about it. You know what they say--o fool must behave like a fool or he's wasting good time. Neither house nor hutch do I have, and what is worse, this gives aid and comfort to my enemies who see the kind of wife I have, whom nobody but me would want to take-- a Skinny, withered, ugly, low-born hag without a dime to her name, who'll never see fifty again. Ah, well, at least I don't have to worry about her cheating on me '. Since Jesus was born of Mary, there has never been a marriage to equal this one. I'm fairly bursting with ioy '. I9 20 22 25 28 30 35 38 40 Envoyer un homme en Egypte Ceste dolor est plus petite Que n'est Ia moie. Je n'en puis més se ie m'esmoie L'en dit que fols qui ne foloie Pert sa seson : Or n'ai ni borde ne meson, Encore plus fort : Par plus doner de reconfort A «Is qui me heent de mart, Tel fame ai prise Que nus fors moi n'aime ne prise, Et s'estoit povre et entreprise Et si n'est pas gente ne bele ; Cinquante anz a en s'escuele, S'est maigre et seche : N'ai pas poor qu'ele me treche. DeSpuis que fu nez en la greche Diex de Marie, Ne fu més tele eSpouserie. Je suis toz plains d'envoiserie : (I, pp.547-48). The plaint "Je n'en puis més se ie m'esmoi" is repeated again (v. 80) and the unhappy husband forecasts the starvation rations that will prevail in his house- hold, since he is not "ouvriers des mains" but as a iongleur must depend on the bounty of others. C_uens, Kai vielé : The ensuing description is reminiscent of Colin Muset in Sire I78 Quant g'i vois boursse desgarnie, 18 Ma fame ne me rit mie, Ainz me dit : "Sire Engelé, En quel terre avez esté, Qui n'avez riens conquesté? (Bédier edition, 1969, No. V, pp. 9-10). Characteristically, however, Muset sketches the icy of his family when he returns with a full purse, ending the poem gaily, whereas Rutebeuf takes only the pessi- mistic view: Que ie n'ose entrer en ma porte 112 A vuide main. (I, p. 551). This similarity of theme, however, does lend further support to the poem's being in the iongleresque tradition, rather than pertaining to Rutebeuf's personal life. For a man as sorely beset by tribulation as the unhappy husband pretends to be, he certainly shows enviable equanimity. Indeed, his reaction is totally at variance with the inventory of misfortunes he itemizes. Such a marriage defies belief, and "disavows all cause for concern" on the part of the audience (Olsen, _C_30_I_ne_dy, p. 39). We are in the realm of hyperbole : 74 Nis la destruction de Troie Ne fu Si grant comme est la moie (I, p. 549). and, most notably, in this evocation of the reaction in the streets when Rutebeuf passes by in his piteous state, a martyr of misery, so that "One would think I were a priest", he says, "more people cross themselves on seeing me--this is no lie-- than if I were reciting Scripture" : L'en se saine parmi la vile 121 De mes merveilles ; On les doit bien conter aus veilles : ll n'i a nules lor pareilles, 124 Ce n'est pas doute. (I, p. 549). 179 We are also in the realm of the antithesis of hyperbole, the litote : Je cuit que Diex Ii debonaires 55 M'aime de loing : (l, p. 549). The comic effect is further broadened by irony. I have already cited the line where he complains about having no house to live in, following it immediately with the thought that "what is even worse", he is giving pleasure to his enemies. Then, too, there is his ironic reaction to his wife's undesirability : 38 N'ai pas poor qu'ele me treche. (I, p. 548). and the equally ironic comment "I am fairly bursting with ioy" after his exclamation "There has never before been a marriage such as mine". Such phrases as "Ce n'est pas guile", "Ce n'est pas doute", or "C'est sanz doutance" subtly reinforce the irony since they very clearly are the reverse of the truth they purport to foster. Like many of his contemporaries, Rutebeuf was an inveterate punster and the Mariage reflects his proclivity for double-entendre: 31 Quant ie la E'i' A ci mariage de pris, (italics mine) the ironical intent is heightened by the understanding of "good, rich prize" for "de pris". Another example is the allusion to "manger a porte ouverte" whereby the lord Shared his table with the indigent, a practice attributed to Louis IX by Joinville, the abandonment of which Rutebeuf criticized unmercifully in Renart Ie Bestorné (see pp. 85- 6 above). Here, he says: Ja n'i sera ma porte ouverte, Quar ma meson est trap deserte 103 Et povre et gaste : (I, p. 550). The past participle "ouverte" has a double sense: first, a passive form indicating that his door will never be opened by a guest seeking a good meal; and second, 180 he will not keep his door open because his house has nothing to offer in the way of ”bele chiere" (v. 106). Then there is the pun on his name, which has become a trademark for him: 45 Rustebuef qui rudement oevre : (l, p. 548). The same techniques occur in the Complainte. When it comes to affliction, the poet tells us, God has made him a fit companion for Job. Within one week, he has been beset by the following calamities: (I) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) He lost his right eye (and that was his better eye, toa'.). His heart is saddened by this mishap because now he cannot see to make an honest profit: Le cuer en ai triste et noirci 37 De cest mehaing, Quar ie n'i voi pas man gaaing (I, p. 554). His wife has iust had a baby. His horse has broken its leg. The baby's nurse is ceaselessly after him for her pay for suckling the child: Qui m'en destraint et me pelice 58 Par l'enfant pestre, (I, p. 555). There is almost no wood in the house to weather approaching winter. His landlord keeps pestering him for the rent. He is virtually naked against the winter's cold. Troubles do not come singly, he sighs. Everything that can possibly happen to him has happened. Li mal ne sevent seul venir ; Tout ce m'estoit a avenir, 109 S'est avenu. His friends are all “gone with the wind". 121 Ce sont ami que vens enporte, (I, p. 557). 181 In the first lines of the poem, he reminds the audience that he has already told them: 4 En quel maniere Je pris ma fame darreniere, (I, p. 552). which appears to imply that there was a previous one, since he refers to her as his "last wife". Of course, we remember that she was fifty years old, and are a bit startled to learn she has just had a baby. Even more startling, however, is the juxtaposition of catastrophes : Or a d'enfant geii ma fame ; Mon cheval a brisié la jame 55 A une lice ; Or veu de I'argent ma norrice, (I, pp. 552-53). While the loss of his rig ht eye may well be accounted an affliction, it iS surely not for the reason given, nor is it in the same category as his wife's having a baby, or his nurse's besieging him for her wages. As for the loss of his friends, with great insauciance, he declares: Vers mes preudommes m'estuet trere Qui sont cortois et debonere I39 Et m'ont norri. and, because they are “rotten" : Mi autre ami sont tuit porri : Je les envoi a mestre Orri 142 Et se Ii Iais. (I, p. 557). consigns them to the realm of MaI‘tre Orri, who appears to have had the sewage- drainage concession in Paris in the beginning of the 13th century. His name be- came synonymous with waste-diSposal and F88 cite an illuminating reference in this connection from the Testament de Jean de Meung, p. 78, v. 1517, "Ce n'est pas don par Dieu, ains est par mestre Orris" (I, p. 558). 182 This last is pure banter, recalling Adam de la Halle's chaffing of his com- panions in the Jeu de la Feuillée, and in no way resembles the heart-broken re- action of a man whose friends have deserted him. Moreover, he scarcely seems perturbed about his dire straits when he announces 90in that he can always call upon his kind-hearted gentlefolk who have helped him out in the past. Yet the Complainte ends differently from the Mariage and poses a problem of tone (vv. 148-165). After a few more unkind words about faithless friends (W. 143-47), Rutebeuf abruptly invites his audience to prayer, in the manner of the serious sermons: 148 Or pri Celui Qui trois parties fist de Iui, Qui refuser ne set nului 151 Qui Ie reclaime, and then proceeds to ask God Monseignor qui est filz de roi Mon dit et ma complainte envoi, 160 Qu'il m'est mestiers, Qu'il m'a aidié moult volentiers : Ce est le bans quens de Poitiers I63 Et de Toulouse ; Il savra bien que cil goulouse Qui se fetement se dolouse. At first glance, this appears to be a means of publicly flattering his "Sponsor" for past favors, but why precede it with a pious prayer? Was a change of tone intended in the closing lines, a return to seriousness? Or does the banter so evident in the verses immediately preceding v. 148 prevail to the end of the poem? In other words, was the prayer a parody, or if that is too strong a term, a light-hearted invocation of God for purely practical considerations? 183 F88 point out that the prayer (vv. 148-156) is missing in manuscript C and the lines dedicated to Alphonse de Poitiers (vv. 157-165) are missing in manuscript D. They further indicate that 157 Tout sanz desroi. cannot with any degree of continuity follow after 147 Que l'en doie a amor clamer (I, p. 558). There is however no manuscript which omits the entire seventeen lines, and one can only assume that they were at least thought to be part of the original poem. As in the serious poems, the four tercet coué monologues abound in rhetorical figures. There are artful instances of anaphora: Griesche d'hiver Li dé que Ii decier ant fet M'ont de ma robe tout desfet ; 54 Li dé m'ocient, Li dé m'aguetent et espient, Le dé m'assaillent et desfient, 57 Ce poise moi. (I, p. 523). Mariage Or pri a Dieu que il li plaise Ceste dolor, ceste mesaise I36 Et ceste enfance (I, p. 551). There are fewer instances of annominatio than in the serious poems and those we find are inclined to be Shorter. For example, this one on "ven" Griesche d'hiver Li vens me vient, li vens m'esvente 15 Et trap sovent Plusors fo'r'e sent le vent Bien le m'ot griesche en covent (I, p. 522). and a double annominatio on "ven" and "porte": Complainte Je cuit Ii vens les a osté, —— 121 L'amor est morte : Ce sont ami que vens enporte Et il ventait devant ma porte 124 Ses enporta (I, p. 557). 184 There is the some rich rhyme: Griesche d'été 40 S'aus pains le tient, ele l'assomme. En cart terme set bien la somme (I, p. 528). 74 Par ce que le argens art gent (1, p. 529). Mariage 14 Ne de martire, S'iI en man martire se mire, Qui ne doie de ban cuer dire: (I, p.547). Also noteworthy in the above (W. 14-16) are the alliterative "m" and "d" sounds. Yet the divergence of tone and theme, the exaggerations that highlight the ludicrous, distinguish these four monologues from the poems of serious intent, even from the satirical jibes of the polemics which, despite their ridicule, remain serious in purpose. Let us also note all absence of moralizing in these monologues. They are poems intended not to edify but to entertain. In the main, the argument for the "poetic I" is persuasive in the tercet coué monologues of misfortune. Their themes are culled from the camedian's ancient repertoire, but Rutebeuf sets his own stamp upon them, and through hyperbole, litote, irony and double entendre creates a light-hearted tone conducive to katastasis. I feel that the poet would have been dismayed to think that posterity might account him a gambler, a "Mal Marié", or a Job's companion on the testimony of a camedian's routine. In my view, the personal lyrics give no insight into the life of the man Rutebeuf, although they bear witness to the jongleur's talent for characterization. Was he a gambler?' It is possible. Did he have an unhappy marriage, or two, or none? We cannot know. Yet, he need not have been a gambler nor have married unwisely to be able to impersonate people who were and who had. Unquestionably, he had a true ear for the idiom of his contemporaries and if he did indeed lose his 185 right eye, his left was a keen observer of their foibles. OCTOSYLLABlC-STROPHIC MONOLOGUES Three of the personal lyrics are written in 12-line octosyllabic stanzas, with the rhyme scheme aab aab bba bba While precise dating of these is difficult, F&B propose either 1266 or 1271 as the earliest (Paix de Rutebeuf), depending on the identity of the person referred to therein; between 1276-77 for Ia Povreté Rutebeuf; and somewhere within I277 and 1285 for la Mart Rutebeuf (referred to in Manuscripts C and D as la Repentance Rutebeuf). Four serious poems have the same strophic form: Proposed Date Dit de Sainte Eglise 1259 Ordres de Paris 1263 Complainte de Constantinople 1262 Complainte d'Eudes He Navarre 1266 The first two are polemics, the last two, Crusade sermons, although the Complainte de Constantinople does contain invective against the Mendicants (I, p. 427, W. 91- 120). Little light is shed by these with respect to date or genre for this strophic form which would appear to have been used over a 15-year period. So far as the three monologues are concerned, they might have been written anywhere from four to fifteen years after the tercet coué lyrics. The Paix Rutebeuf and Povreté Rutebeuf each contain 48 lines, composed of four 12-line stanzas, whereas Mort Rutebeuf iS seven stanzas long (84 lines). Are these poems, too, in the jongleresque tradition of the tercet coué monologues, or do they differ from them in tone and intent? 186 Paix Rutebeuf The title is given as "Priere Rutebeuf" in manuscript B, and it is difficult to derive meaning from either "paix" or "priere" so far as the content of the poem is concerned. On first reading, it appears to be directed at an un-named friend who aspires to high estate (en seignorie) and whom the poet would hope to main- tain at his currently lesser level. Mon boen ami, Dieus le mainteingne '. Mais raisons me montre et enseingne 3 Qu'a Dieu fasse une teil priere : S'il est moiens, que Dieus l'i tiengne 1 (I, p. 566). Critical attention has been centered on the identity of the friend, particularly in an effort to determine the date of the poem, but in my view this is a needless speculation. An examination of the poet's argument leaves me in doubt as to whether he actually had a specific person in mind, or whether this was another comic fiction engaged in by the jongleur, to lend a plausible framework to the remarks he intended to make. Several questions occur in this connection. In the first place, to whom was the poem addressed? The general public? If so, what would Rutebeuf's comments avail, particularly if he kept the identify of his friend secret? Second, what is the nature of his "argument"? For me, it has the ring of a generality: Car cam plus basse est la lumiere Mieus voit hon avant et arriere, I2 Et com plus hauce plus esloigne. (I, p. 567). It also makes an excellent transition for the next two stanzas which are a commen- tary on the court and the times, on ephemeral friendships, hypocrisy and flattery: 187 13 Quant Ii moiens devient granz sires, Lars vient flaters et nait mesdires : 16 Lors est perduz joers et rires, Ses roiaumes devient empires 18 Et tuit ensuient une trace. Li povre amisrest on «pace ; S'il vient a cart, chacuns l'en chace 21 Per groz moz ou par vitupires. (I, p. 567). In these two stanzas, the particular friend of the opening lines is forgotten for the sake of asermon with proverbial phraseology and annominatio: Riches ham qui flateaur croit Fait de legier plus tort que droit, 27 Et de legier faut a droiture Quant de legier croit et mescroit : Fos est qui sor s'amour acrait, 30 Et sages qui entour li dure. (I, p. 567). ending with an enjoinder to trust only the love of God : 33 Se n'est por Celui qui tot voit, Car s'amours est ferme et seiire ; Sages est qu'en Ii s'aseiire : 36 Tuit le autre sunt d'un endroit. (I, p. 567). In the last stanza, he reverts to the fiction of the friend: J'avoie un boen ami en France, Or l'ai perdu par mescheance ; and ends on a jongleresque note of Spurious self—pity and irony: 39 De totes pars Dieus me gerroie, De totes pars pers je chevance : Dieus le m'atort a penitance Que par tanz cuit que pou i voie '. (l, p. 568). God is oppressing me on all sides. I am losing my livelihood from all sources. God holds me in penance and at times it seems that I can barely see. May he who did me such disservice (i.e. whose malice cost me my friend) suffer the same fate, and 188 enjoy it as much as I do '. De sa veii rait il joie Ausi grant come je de la moie 45 Qui m'a meii teil mesestance (I, p. 568). His reference to a loss of vision is reminiscent of the Complainte monologue (where he mourns his right eye) and may perhaps have some basis in reality, but in the main I find it difficult to believe in the fiction of a friend, unless it is a matter of two separate friends. There is a discrepancy between the first and last stanzas which raises this question. At the beginning, the use of the subjunctive: 4 S'il est moiens, que Dieus l'i tiengne '. (italics mine). leads one to believe that the friend has not yet been elevated to his high rank, yet in the last stanza we are met with an imperfect and two passé composes which imply the contrary: 37 J'avoie un boen ami en France, Or l'ai perdu par mescheance ; (italics mine). and also 45 Qui m'a me'u teil mesestance '. (italics mine). so that the last stanza leaves us with the impression that the promotion is a f_a_it_ accompli and that the friend has been lost because his position of power surrounded him with self-seeking sycophants. These tenses would only make sense if he were talking about one friend in the first stanza and another in the last, citing what had happened previously as a reason for not elevating the first friend mentioned. Yet for me the poem has more meaning if the poet resorts to a specific in the first stanza to lead into his moralizing in the next two stanzas and I doubt that any 189 particular person was intended. Ham sees in Rutebeuf's personal remarks about himself a "seeking merely to intrigue and bemuse his public" ("Pauper and Polemist", p. 238), and this may well be an instance of it. Povreté Rutebeuf The dating proposed by F88 (1276-77) would place the lyric at a distance of 15 years from the tercet coué monologues and while it resembles them in general theme, there is a difference of tone which raises certain questions as to intent. At the outset, the poem seems to belong within the jongleresque tradition of the mis- fortune monologues: Je ne sai par ou je coumance, Tant ai de matyere abondance 3 Par parleir de ma pavretei. (I, p. 570). but the very next line is a plea to the king of France for welfare assistance: Par Dieu vos pri, frans rois de France, Que me doneiz queilque chevance, 6 Si fereiz trap grant charitei. (I, p. 570-71). Instead of the Specific and somewhat incongruous catalogue of woes characteristic of the t_er_c_c_e_t_c_o_ué poems, however, the rest of the stanza is general in nature. "I have lived on the bounty of others, " says the poet, "who believed in me, but now I can no longer get credit, since I am poor and in debt and you, on whom I had counted for help, have been absent from the realm." It is here that one begins to speculate on the poet's intent. Is this indeed a "letter" to Philippe le Hardi, son of Louis IX, who acceded to the throne in 1270? Reference to the Tunis Crusade in the second stanza as being post would preclude the poem's being addressed to Saint Louis, who died in that Crusade. If indeed it were intended as a personal message to Philip III, can it be considered 190 0 performance piece? Public solicitation of a patron is well within the jongler- esque tradition, as indicated earlier with respect to Colin Muset's Sire cuens, j'oi vielé (see p. 179 above) but was it a collection procedure, a plea to the audience for remuneration, or a dramatization of the plight of the jongleur and his dependence on the public for a livelihood? Ham is of the opinion that "Rutebeuf could have had his troubles, but at the same time he surely had too many high connections to have made a lifelong career of destitution" ("Pauper and Polemist", p. 232). Still, Povreté was written towards the end of Rutebeuf's career, and the point he makes in the second stanza might have some validity: Mars me ra fait de granz damages ; Et vos, boens rois, en deus voiages 21 M'aveiz bone gent esloignie, Et le lontainz pelerinages De Tunes, qui es leuz sauvages, 24 Et la male gent reno’l‘e. (I, p. 571). His benefactors may all have been dead at this time, and his poetic career on the wane . The annominatio of the third stanza, however, has the effect of lightening the tone somewhat: Granz rois, s'il avient qu'a vos faille A touz ai ge failli sanz faille. 27 Vivres me faut et est failliz ; Nuns ne me tent, nuns ne me baille, Je touz de froit, de fain baaille_,_ 30 Dont je suis mars et maubailliz Je suis sanz cautes et sanz liz, (italics mine). N'ai Si povre juqu'a Sanliz. an effect heightened by hyperbole: With cold I cough, with hunger I'm dead, I am without funds, I am without bed (vv. 29-3i1). 191 and double-entendre: None so poor as I from here to Senlis (v. 32). "Senlis" being pronounced, of course, "sans lit". It is worth pointing out also the effect of the two vowel sounds--"aille" and "i"--an which the rhyme of this stanza is based, which, taken together, form the “ahi" of lamentation. From the standpoint of medieval poetic artistry, there- fore, the stanza is admirable, but is it simply designed to Show off the virtuosity of the poet, or is it to be taken seriously’? The fourth stanza presents a versification problem. Rutebeuf is a skillful versifier who scrupulously sustains his rhyme scheme throughout an entire work, yet here we have an example of strophic deviation in the last twelve lines of the poem, where the a a b a a b b b a b b a' form is abandoned for rhyming couplets. F68 have no explanation to offer, but take note that "Ie paéme, qui semble d'une poignante sincérité, s'acheve par douze vers qui ne sont pas dans le ton de I'ensem- ble" (I, p. 570). In my view, the "tan de l'ensemble" is as difficult to pinpoint as the reason for Rutebeuf's strophic deviation. He has sufficiently demonstrated his mastery of rhyme and meter in his other poems for me to believe that the switch to rhyming couplets was deliberate. But why? Did he sense that a change in cadence would strengthen his final stanza? Or was it, as F8.B suggests, a change of tone? The 12-line stanzaic form is not far removed from the 1351' £316, the third line being octosyllabic rather than quadrisyllabic, and rhyming with the Sixth, seventh, eighth, tenth and eleventh lines rather than the verse immediately following. It also produces a mimicking of conversational cadence, but the rhyming couplets have the effect of a series of affirmative statements, each complete in I92 itself. For example: Sire, je vos fais a savoir je n'ai de quoi do pain avoir. (W. 37-38). A Paris sui entre touz biens, et n'i a nul qui i soit miens. (vv. 39-40). Prou i voi et Si i preig pou : (v. 41). ll m'i souvient plus de saint Pou qu'il ne fait de nul autre apotre. (v. 42-43). Bien sai pa_t_er_, ne sai qu'est_nitr_e_, (v. 44). Que le chiers tenz m'a tot ostei, qu'il m'a Si vuidié man hostei que le credo m'est deveeiz, (W. 45-47). Et je n'ai plus que vos veeiz. (v. 48). Viewed in this way, the meter evokes the intonation of a well-balanced argument and seriously persuasive tone at variance with the content. Surely the wordplay on the paternoster, wherein the possessive adjective is perverted to a personal sense, and on the apostolic creed, where credo, coupled with the verb devoir, takes on the meaning of “credit", is too coy to warrant serious consideration. On the whole, I incline more towards the consideration of Povreté as a performance piece in the jongleresque tradition. It may even be seen as a sly jibe at the King for being so absorbed with affairs outside his realm that he gives no thought to his subjects at home who have need of him. As Such, reciting it to a public who shared the poet's sentiments might well win their approbation and generosity. Mort Rutebeuf F88 begin their analysis of this, the last of the monologues, with the words "Cette piece, d'une apparente clarté, est au fond tres énigmatique" (I, p. 573). 193 Accurate dating of the piece is not possible. Monsignor Pesce, basing himself on the verse: 82 For cest siecle qui se depart (I, p. 578). cites somewhere around 1290 as plausible (see p. 9, n 21 above), but F8.B are of the opinion that it cannot have been written earlier than 1277 nor later than 1285. Certainly, it appears to have been composed towards the end of the poet's life. Manuscripts C and D Show its title as La repentance Rutebeuf . In manuscript R it is untitled. F&B follow manuscript A in calling it "mart". Persuaded that neither of the titles is authentic, representing merely the interpretation of a copyist, they incline towards "repentance" as the more suitable (I, p. 573). I would opt for L'adieu Rutebeuf, for I believe this to have been the poet's purpose. The occasion of the poem was his farewell performance, the last public appearance of Rutebeuf, jongleur. The announcement of his retirement from the arena begins the poem: 1 Lessier m'estuet le rimaier, Quar je me doi moult esmaier Quant tenu l'ai Si longuement. (I, p. 575). and ends it: Par ceste siecle qui se depart M'en covient partir d'autre part : 84 Qui que l'envie, je le 165. (l, p. 578). , and the five stanzas in between take stock of his life, his work, and his prospects for salvation. Their structure follows the signposts of the Voie de Paradis (see pp. 128431 above): 194 (1)He confesses his sins: 19 37 (2)He repents: 13 Bien me doit le cuer lermoier C'onques ne me poi amoier A Dieu servir parfetement Ainz ai mis man entendement En geu et en esbatement Qu'ainz ne daignai nés saumoier. (I, p. 575). J'ai toz jars engressié ma pance D'autrui chatel, d'autrui substance : J'ai fet au cars so volenté, J'ai fet rimes et s'ai chanté Sor les uns par aus autres plere, (I, p. 576). Tart serai més au repentir Las moi, c'onques ne sot sentir Mes fols cuers quels est repentance (I, p. 575). (3)He acknowledges his debt to God for all His bounty: 30 Ne me fist Diex banté entiere Qui me dona sens et savoir Et me fist a sa forme chiere ? Encor me fist banté plus chiere, Que par moi vaut mart recevoir. (I, p. 576). (4) He regrets the enticements of the Devil: Dont Anemis m'a enchanté Et m'ame mise en orfenté (l, p. 576). for, in succumbing to them, he has placed his soul in jeopardy and neither physician nor apothecary can make it well. (5)He appeals to the Virgin: Admitting that he knows of one Physician who can cure him, whose like has not been seen at Lyons or Vienne throughout the centuries: 195 N'est plaie, tant soit anciene, 54 Qu'ele ne netoie et escure, Puis qu'ele i veut metre sa cure. Ele eSpurja de vie obscure La beneoite Egypciene : A Die la rendi nete et pure. (l, p. 577). he prays for Her intercession on his behalf: Si com c'est voirs, si praingne en cure 60 Ma lasse d'ame crestiene '. (I, p. 577). (6)He considers approaching Death: 61 Puis que morir voi foible et fort Comment prendrai en moi canfart Que de mart me puisse desfendre? (I, p. 577). and God's judgment: Et quant Ii cars est mis en cendre, Si covient a Dieu reson rendre 72 De quanques fist dusqu'a la mort. ( - ‘ p. 577). (7)He resolves to mend his ways and retire : 73 Or ai tant fet que ne puis més Si me covient lessier en pés ; God grant that it is not too Iate'. His sins accumulate with each day, and the more the fire is fed, the hotter it burns: Diex doinst que ce ne soit trap tart '. Toz jars ai acreii man fés, Et oi dire a clers et a 165 : 78 "Com plus couve le feus plus art." (I, p. 578). In tone, in theme, in majesty of line, in imagery and lexicon, this last of the personal monologues resembles Rutebeuf's serious poems, and I must admit I discern nothing lighthearted in it. Though he Speaks of death, there iS no annominatio on “mar" which we have come to expect in his treatment of the theme. There are no puns to cast doubt on the sincerity of sentiment. 196 His images evoke the symbols of the time: the Healing Virgin, the pact with the Devil, the game of survival which invites to Sin. The lexicon is lofty, reminiscent of the Crusade and sermonizing poems, yet these were "you" oriented, and in his last performance piece, the first-person singular takes on a truly personal cost. Instead of "you" and salvation, it is "I"--not the poetic "I" this time--but Rutebeuf himself, who, having disposed of Rutebeuf the jongleur, seeing the Spectre of Death before him, will henceforth concern himself with the salvation of Rutebeuf the man. There is bitterness and disillusian in him as he watches the century draw to a close with a sense of the great changes that have taken place in the Span of his lifetime, and of his failure to accomplish what he had hoped to do. "I thought I could outruse Renart, " he says, ruefully, "but neither ruse nor art availed against him. He is firmly ensconced in his palace'.‘ (vv. 79-81). "As for this departing century, I must betake myself elsewhere. Whoever wants it, I bequeath it to him. " For these last two verses (83-84) Faral indicates an alternate interpretation, since "I'envier" and "le laier" are used in gambling. Rutebeuf might also be saying, "I am weary of the game. Let who will continue it. As for me, I am cashing in my chips. " The reference to Renart (v. 79) seems to lend credence to Faral's inter- pretation of Renart Ie Bestorné having to do with the Mendicant Orders rather than the Crusades. Plausibly, these last lines reflect Rutebeuf's battle to unseat the Franciscans and his defeat, for despite all his efforts they are firmly estab- lished, their influence unchallenged. It must have been a bitter blow. 197 To the traditionalist, aging and perhaps crotchety, the century must have seemed headed for perdition. Looking back on his life, on the exigencies of his profession, he was moved twice to exclaim, "I have made a bad bargain if God does not grant me salvation." Se por moi n'est au Jugement Cele ou Diex prist aombrement, 12 Mau marchié pris au paumoier. (I, p. 575). and 43 Se Cele en qui toz biens resclere Ne prent en cure man afere, De male rente m'a renté (I, p. 576). "I have done all I could, " he says in his last stanza, "I can continue no longer" (W. 73-74). He has placed his soul in jeopardy for the sake of a public who paid no heed to his counsel. The time has now come to think of his own salvation. Rutebeuf the jongleur will take his leave, as Rutebeuf the man prepares to meet his Maker. There are those who see in W. 38-39 an acknowledgment by the M that he espoused the interests of those who paid him, writing not from personal con- viction but from the exigencies of earning a living: J'ai fet rimes et s'ai chanté Sor les uns pour aus autres plere, (I, p. 576). I think they may be interpreting the intention of these lines too broadly. They occur within a context of self-castigation, as the old man who had started out a clerc searches his soul to make confession of his Sins. Scanning the catalogue of Vices, he admits he has been guilty of Gluttony--"J'ai toz jars engressié ma pance"--; he has sinned against Purity--"J'ai fet au cars so volenté"—-and against Charity, 198 in that he talked against some to please others. Surely his polemics were un- charitable, and in my view it is this aspect of his work that he seems to regret in this passage. I doubt that it was intended to apply to his entire poetical output as being the work of a mercenary. In view of its seriousness of tone and theme, I feel I should justify the in- clusion of Mort Rutebeuf among the poems of comic intent. By our definition, poems of serious intent were written to edify, or instruct, or to persuade to action. This is clearly not the purpose of the piece. Rutebeuf, the entertainer, is giving his farewell performance before a public he has served "too long" (v. 3). It is a truly personal lyric, as the others we have examined do not appear to be, and the only exhortation in the monologue is to the poet himself. While its tone and theme, its lexicon and imagery are those of the serious poems, its intent rightfully places it among the performance monologues of the jongleur. Clearly performance pieces, the personal monologues are not mimetic in the full sense of the term. They are comparable to the camedian's routine odd though Rutebeuf, particularly in the tercet coué poems, adopts a comic fiction as his framework, there is no real impersonation in a dramatic sense. There are two factors of prime importance in the delivery of a camedian's patter which we have no possibility of evaluating--timing and pace. These are the qualities that dis- tinguish the professional from the amateur. We can only assume that a veteran of the fairs and market-places such aS Rutebeuf would have become sufficiently Skilled with reSpect to both of these to exploit them to the fullest advantage in inducing katastasis. 199 2. The Fabliaux' To define a fabliau, as Chambers suggests, as a "conte a rire en vers", even adding Lecompte's characterization of it as "a painting of everyday life. . . combined with a traditional story" (see p. 15 above), is not adequate for our pur- pose. Writing in 1894, Kressner traced its ancestry to the Arabian tales brought back to France from the Crusades, on which were superimposed: Der gallische Geist aber, der, abhold der Poesie der "mondbe- gl'cinzten Zaubernacht", an neckischer, satirischer und frivoler Darstellung sich erfreut, wusste bald diese Erznhlungen der blendenden Farbe der orientalischen Phantasie zu berauben, und Sie durch jene oft ausgelassene Heiterkeit zu ersetzen, welche unsere westlichen Nachbarn jederzeit charakterisiert hat. Die franzosischen Fablels wurden dos getreue Bild des biirgerlichen Lebens einer Epoche, deren hochste LebensverhéTtnisse ihre Spur in den Ritter-romanen zuriickliessen. In 1955, Cohen agreed with this source, but differed as to means, "lls sont souvent d'origine orientale, et nous sont parvenus par l'intermédiaire des Arabes et des Juifs d'Espagne. “3 Faral, however, in 1924, proposed another possibility, basing his thesis on "Ie genre littéraire latin du moyen age qui s'intitule "comoedia”l et que je considere comme un organisme de transition entre la comédie des anciens Latins et Ie fabliau frangais."4 IThe Picard version of fableaux , the term became widespread because of the Picards' great skill in handling the genre. 2 Adolf Kressner, “Rustebuef als Fableldichter und Dramatiker", Franco- Gallia, XI, Nos. 8-9 (1894), 113. ' 3Gustave Cohen, Anthologie de la Iittérature franiaise du moyen—age (Paris: Delagtave, 1955), p. 67. 4 Edmond Faral, “Le fabliau latin au moyen age", Romania, I (1924), 321 200 It seems to me they are viewing the matter from different vantage points—- theme and form. The tales with a twist seen as the ancestors of our modern locker- room jokes are doubtless as old as man. Perhaps they were already hoary in the time of the troglogytes, huddled in their dim, damp dwellings, telling tall tales about shrewish wives, the witch doctor who got a taste of his own medicine, or the hunter who was so nearsighted he mistook his mother-in-law for a bison. Surely their counterparts are to be found in the cultural history of every ethnic group, with a subject matter common to all. That such tales existed in the Orient is to be expected, but in my view, they Simply exemplified the Similarity of human comedy wherever it is to be found. If, however, we are Speaking of the French fabliaux as a particular genre cultivated in the late 12th and the 13th centuries, the evidence linking them to Greco-Roman ancestry is convincing. As mentioned earlier (see p. 29 above) during the Middle Ages comoedia were narrative rather than dramatic in form although they took their themes from Terence and Plautus. In his study on the Latin fabliau, Faral points out not only the similarity of theme between, for example, Vitalis of Blais' Amphitruo (12th century) and the Plautus play of that name, but the similarity of form--argument, prologue and verse (p. 326). Summing up his study, Faral states: Entre le conte médiéval ainsi défini et le fabliau frangais du XIIIe SiéCle. . . il y a aussi cette ressemblance profonde que contes Iatins procedent exactement du meme eSprit. Memes types d'intrigue, mémes types de personnages, mames sources du comique, memes sympathies et memes antipathies. . .(p. 383). While acknowledging Bédier's list of parallels between certain fabliaux themes and the works of Phaedrus, Petronius and Apuleius, Faral reiterates his belief 201 that they have come down to us through the intermediary of old Latin comedy (p. 384). One might go back even farther, to AeSOp, and the Characters of Theophrastus, not to mention Menander and the new Greek comedy. Viewed from this perspective, the fabliau may be said to have come full cycle. Born of the comedy of antiquity, evolving into narrative in the Middle Ages, the genre blossomed in the late 12th century, flourished in the 13th, waned in the 14th, and became farce in-the 15th, reverting to the theater from which it sprang. These dates are significant also because they parallel the rise and fall of the jongleur, and as already demonstrated for the dit (pp. 14-24 above), may be seen as his Special genre. Usually built around a ruse, an equivocal expression, or a misunderstanding, the fabliau was a narrative poem, written in the vernacular, lighthearted (often bawdy) in tone, comic in intent, having to do with human foibles in an everyday context. A fine vehicle for jibe and satire, it catered to the eSprit gaulois which was the antithesis of chivalry. In form, it followed these general lines: 1. Prologue, or general introduction (frequently proverbial) 2. Narration of the story or anecdote in natural sequence 3. Peroratio -- closing remarks to point up the narrative 4. A proverb to sum up the message or moral implied While Kressner considered the themes of the fabliaux as "oft grauenhaft zotigen and schmutzigen Erz'dhlungen", he understood their value as literary and cultural history and referred to Rutebeuf as "auf jeden Fall einer der anst'dndigsten Fableldichter" (p. 1133). There is reason to believe that the poet started his career as a performer of fabliaux, earning a considerable reputation thereby (see p. 9 above). 202 However many he may have written, only five have come down to us, ranging in length from 76 to 336 lines, all in narrative octosyllabic rhyming couplets. None is datable, although Charlot Ie Juif must have been written sometime before 1270, the year of Alphonse de Paitiers' death. Le Testament de l'ane : In the main, this fabliau follows the usual pattern: 19 lines of prologue, 140 of narration alternating with dialogue (vv. 20-160); 0 peroratio (W. 161-64) ending with Six lines devoted to the poet's moral (vv. ' 165-170). It is a simple story line. The jackass of a thrifty priest, having served his master well for 20 years, dies of old age and the priest has him buried in hallowed ground. An envious member of the bishop's entourage reports the priest who is summoned be- fore the bishop, accused, and threatened with prison for committing such an out- rage. Asking for time to deliberate, the priest returns home, fortifies himself with twenty pounds concealed in a moneybelt and returns to face the charges. Taking the bishop aside so no one will witness the transaction, he whispers that his jackass, having worked hard and earned 20 sous a day for twenty years, had willed the bishop the sum of twenty pounds in the hope of being saved from Hell. Accepting his legacy, the bishop piously intones, “May God protect him and par- don his misdeeds and all his sins" and the jackass remains buried in consecrated ground, good Christian that he has become. The piece is a tour de force of subtle irony. Rutebeuf paints the priest who has worked hard to amass his wealth in antipathetic tones: Si at toute s'entente mise A Iui chevir et faire avoir 24 A ce at tornei son savoir 203 Asseiz at robes et deniers Et de bleif toz plains ses greniers (2, p. 300). "You couldn't Squeeze a penny out of him without using force" (W. 31-32), he tells us. The bishop, however, is quite the opposite: 44 Que cavaiteux ne eschars n'iere, Mais cortois et bien afaitiez 49 Compeigne de boens crestiens . Estoit ses droiz fisiciens (2, p. 300). AS fast as he gets money, the bishop Spends it. "If he owned any furniture, it wasn't paid for, " says Rutebeuf, adding the proverbial-sounding phrase : 56 Car qui trap despent il s'endete. (2, p. 301). Further, in summing up the affair, he pretends to believe that the point of the story is: "Thus, as you have heard, the bishop rejoiced for the rich priest be- cause he had done wrong, and his wrongdoing had taught him to give presents" (W. 161-64). Then, somewhat ingenuously, he declares that the moral Rutebeuf teaches is, "He who carries sufficient money against his needs, has no cause to fear evil entanglements" (W. 166-67). Yet his audience is more likely to carry away the thought, "Any jackass can purchase a bishop's favor, if he is willing to pay for it." At the outset, the tone of the prologue is moralizing. Envy and Slander, the poet tells us, attend the rich. If there are ten at his table, you will find among them six Slanderers and nine envious men. What then can he expect of those who are not at his table? Then, launching his story, he Sketches for us the rich priest, bisfaithful beast, and the bishop, and having introduced them gets 204 down to the action of his plot. Here, mime and pantomime combine with language as the fabliau takes on a mimetic aspect. Rutebeuf has an undeniable ear for dialogue and one can see the characters come alive, aS he impersonates Robert, the slanderer, the bishop, and the rich priest, suiting voice and gesture to the particular Speaker. Briefly, he returns to the story-teller's role, to set the final scene, then once again he is the priest drawing the bishop aside, casting furtive looks at the audience to make sure he is not perceived, becoming the bishop, reverting to the priest. . .With what glee the audience must have watched the bishop change from outrage to piety as, pocketing the legacy with his left hand, he raised his right in blessing, vond chanted, "May God protect him and forgive all his Sins". Pun, innuendo and irony highlight the humorous tone, and the poet is not above reaching for comic effect as, for example, when Robert says: 75 ---II at pis fait c'un Bed‘uyn, Qu'il at son asne Baudiiyn Mis en la terre beneoite. (2, p. 301). For the sake of a rhyme with "Bedouin" and the resulting laugh, he gives the ass the name, "Baldwin", though nowhere else in the poem does he refer to the animal by name. With the exception of a few light oaths, such as "par Marie l'Egyptienne" and "Se je soie de Dieu assoux", the lexicon is unusually mild for a fabliau and this is one which surely would not have offended Kressner. La dame qui fit trois tours autour du moutier: In theme, tone and form this is what F88 call a "pur fabliau"--"une histoire 205 burlesque encadrée entre un préambule moralisant et une conclusion fournie par un proverbe" (2, p. 292). It is one of the few portraits we find in Rutebeuf of the cliché of the medieval woman. The theme is clearly set forth in the opening lines: Qui fame voudroit decevoir, Je le faz bien apercevoir Qu'avant decevroit I'anemi, 4 Le deable, a champ arami. (2, p. 293). Not only is it easier to defeat the devil on a violent battlefield than to deceive a woman, but, he goes on to say, whoever would control a woman could beat her severely every day, and on the following day she would be wholly recovered, ready to re-submit to Similar punishment. But when a woman has a good-natured fool for a husband, she will bemuse him with such lies, jibes and trifles, She can make him believe that tomorrow the sky will be ashes and in this way wins the argument (vv. 1-15). At this point, the audience knows that only the details are lacking. This will be the old story of the cuckolded husband. Apuleius tells such a tale in the Golden ASS, and while the faithless wife is less subtle and the scene is a tub, not a wood, the centuries have changed the benighted fool of a husband very little. First, Rutebeuf introduces the dramatis personae (W. 16-24) and sketches the Situation. A Squire's lady is the girl friend (amie) of a priest. They love one another, and indeed there is nothing she will not do for him, whoever may be hurt by it. Considering the nature of his material, the poet handles it with a delicacy unusual in the fabliau. When the lovers arrange an assignation in the woods near the Squire's house, for example, he remarks: 206 Parler Ii veut d'une besoingne Ou je cuit que pou conquerroie 32 Se la besoingne vous nommoie. (2, p. 294). The implication is more effective than the use of the accurate term would have been. Or again, in describing "cel vaillant preudomme" who is the lovers' dupe, he subtly characterizes him as the one: 47 Qu'a saint Ernoul doit Ia chandaile. (2, p. 294). (Saint Ernoul being the patron saint of deceived husbands), and a few lines further on calls him "sire Ernaus" (v. 54). The scenes following the assignation are worthy of Moliere. Unexpectedly, the squire arrives home "toz moilliez et toz engelez"--an aside from the poet as- sures us he has no idea of where he could have been-- and the lady, fearing to be late for her appointment, scarcely gives him time to finish his meal before she en- joins him, for the sake of his health and welfare, to go to bed, since "Vous avez chevauchié assez" (v. 68). The innuendo implicit in the verb's action could not have been lost on the audience. When he seeks to detain her in their bedchamber, She urgently pretends the need of yarn for her weaving, and he cries out in irrita- tion: 82 -- Au deable soit tel filace (2, p. 295) Throughout the scene, of course, the audience is aware of the irony of the situa- tion, which intensifies their appreciation of the comic by-play, an appreciation which reaches its climax when the husband, having discovered his wife was not where She said she was, reviles her, "Dame orde, viex pute provee" and cries, "Do you take me for a fool? I suppose youte going to tell me you were with our priest?" (vv. 121-128). bea hus't knit am 5 sller with oper It is shol all, In tl raise the lost out IUTC Flér \ "bl: 207 As the lady assured her lover when he expressed concern lest She be beaten, She was well able to take care of herself. At first, she refuses to tell her husband where She has been. Then, as he grabs her by the hair, and unsheaths his knife, She tearfully consents to Speak. "Would I were in my grave, " She wails. I'I am going to have your child, and they told me to circle the church three times, in Silence, to say three “Our Fathers‘“ in honor of God and his apostles, to dig a hole with my heel, and if three days later I returned to the Spot and found the hole yet open, I Should have a son; if it were closed, I Should have a daughter. And now it is all Spoiled, and I shall have it to do all over again, but by Saint James, I shall do it again, though you kill me for it." Perhaps this is the loudest laugh of all. Our lady has turned the tables deftly. It is the worthy Squire who iS now in the wrong. Guilt-ridden, he promises that he will never again threaten her or raise a fuss about anything she may do. Thus the lady has won the argument, and the poet has made the point he promised in his prologue, which he sums up in the last two lines: 169 Rustebuef dist en cest fablel : Quant fame a fol, s'a son avel. (q, P. 297). While narration (and aside) alternate with dialogue, it is in fabliaux such as this where there is a preponderance of dialogue and action, that the seeds of farcical theater may rightly be discerned. Frere Denise: Here, the poet shows us another aSpect of medieval woman, one having more in common with the drame Iarmayant of the 18th century than it does with 208 force. The longest of the fabliaux, it is not the purest example of the genre. Rutebeuf himself referred to it as a ditié : 17 Fere un ditié d'une aventure De la plus bele creature Que l'en puisse trover ne querre De Paris jusqu'en Engleterre. (2, p. 283). It is unusual for the poet to use this tone for a woman other than the Virgin, and the description of Denise as "the loveliest creature to be sought or found from Paris clear to England", sounds more like a chanson courtoise than a fabliau. Two proverbs appear in the prologue (vv. 1-21) : Li abis ne fet pas l'ermite : and, fourteen lines later, 15 Que tout n'est pas or c'on voit luire ; Both have a legitimate bearing on content, the first one being a literal translation of the theme; the second, a moral interpretation of it. Following the prologue, there is a brief biography of Denise prior to the visit of the Franciscans which was to change her destiny (W. 22-32). Daughter of an apparently deceased knight, having neither brother nor sister, She was very close to her mother. Many noblemen sought her hand, but she refused marriage, having dedicated her life to the Virgin. Into this loving household enters the vil- lain of the piece, Brother Simon, who assures the artless maid that if she would agree to remain a virgin all the days of her life, he and his fellow friars would be happy to welcome her into the Order of Saint Francis. On receiving such as- surance, he swears her to secrecy, arranges for her to slip away from home without her mother's knowledge, to be tonsured,dressed as a young lad, and admitted to 209 the fellowship of the friars none of whom SUSpeCI' any irregularity in the situation. Naturally, it is Brother Simon himself who sees to her indoctrination: 164 Et Ii aprist ces geux naviaux Si que nuns ne S'en aparsut. 178 A cele aprist sa patrenostre Qui volentiers la retenoit. (2, p. 287). Sometime later, he takes her out into the countryside, and they visit a knight and his lady famed for a well-stocked wine cellar. The lady, less ingenuous than Denise, rightly'SUSpects the Situation, confirms her suspicions, and confronts Brother Simon who begs mercy. He is obliged to furnish a hundred pounds for Denise's dowry, a suitable husband is chosen for the girl, and there is a happy reunion between mother and daughter. Although there are comic moments in the tale--Brother Simon's futile yet desperate efforts not to leave Denise alone with the knight's lady; his discomfiture at being discovered; certain details of Denise's seduction by the wily friar--in the main, the tone is moralizing rather than lighthearted and one wonders at the audi- ence for which the narrative was intended. As might be expected, Rutebeuf loses no occasion to belabor the Franciscans--Denise's impatience to be "cainte de la corde" (v. 121); the implication that Brother Simon can easily lay his hands on a hundred pounds without having to pawn anything (v. 284); and the denunciation by the Knight's lady: 244 "Faus papelars, faus ypocrite, Fausse vie menez et orde. 249 Telz genz font bien le siecle pestre Qui par dehars samblent bans estre Et par dedenz sont tuit porri 210 256 Un tel Ordre, par saint Denise, N'est mie biaus ne bans ne genz. Vous desfendez aus bones genz Et les dansses et les caroles, 262 Or 5:5... .sire. $35122; °°°° Mena saint Francois tele vie? (2, pp. 289-90). In contrast with the Squire's spouse, who is depicted as a true sister of Eve, the knight's lady is the prototype of the good wife, kindly diSposed and capable, implacably on the Side of morality. And if her tongue be sharp, the better to cope with the Brother Simons of this world. Denise's mother is a Shadowy figure, and the reactions Rutebeuf attributes to her are merely conventional. As for Denise, her innocence, on which the plot hinges, may seem a trifle overdrawn. Brother Simon, however, emerges as the forerunner of the fourbe. In the 15th century, he will be a lawyer, in the 17th, a valet, and the 18th will see him come into his own and triumph over the Establishment in Turcaret and the Mariage de 519:2. Yet, whatever his calling, he will be shrewd and without scruple; he will create illusion and peddle it as truth; he will manipulate the gullible for his gain; he will outrage and incense the righteous, be humbly penitent when car- nered, always manage to wriggle free of justice'S tails, and be ready to start the game all over again, for it is the game that excites him. While we know him for a scoundrel, and decry his tactics, his ingenuity, his larger-than-life audacity win our reluctant admiration. Certainly, Denise seems to have borne her friar no ill-will. The remaining two fabliaux--Charlot le Juif et la peau de liEVre and_P_e_t au vi Iain --are in the tradition of Kressner's "schmutzigen Erz'cihlungen" and I agree with him that, while in theme they may be too earthy for modern critical 211 taste, they shed important light on contemporary life and custom (p. 113).Their counterparts are to be found in Bocaccio and Chaucer, and they played an impor- tant role in the development of the prose tale and the episodes that dot the frame- work of the picaresque novel. Charlot le Juif is another pure fabliau from the standpoints of form, verve and gaiety. Its closing proverb (which would appear to be a Rutebeuf original) -- "Qui barat quiert, baraz Ii vient"--applies equally to Maitre Pathelin, also hoist by his own pétard. The ruse on which the tale is based might just as well have been placed in another setting, yet Rutebeuf chose the milieu he knew well, and a great deal of the poem's effectiveness is due to the rich local color and plausible detail in which it abounds. "Never tangle with a minstrel", Rutebeuf warns at the outset of the piece, "for you're sure to get the worst of the bargain, and come out of it with an empty purse." From this generalization, he launches into the specific instance destined to prove his point. Though it is doubtless sheer comic fiction, for verisimilitude he designates the man who will get the worst of the bargain as purveyor of bread to Alphonse de Poitiers, and imputes the trickster's role to a contemporary jongleur, Charlot le Juif. F88 see this as the recounting of one of Charlot's exploits in an effort to discredit him, but I believe it is possible Rutebeuf invented the tale for the same reason. First, he describes how Guillaume the baker came to have the rabbitskin and lost his horse in its pursuit. Anaphora imitates the course of the hare fleeing from the dogs: 212 Asseiz fo'f, et longuement Et cil le chassa durement ; Asseiz corrut, asseiz ala, 24 Asseiz guenchi et 50 et la, (2, p. 257). and several lines later on describes the festivities at Guillaume's cousin's wedding feast, Rutebeuf himself being among the guests: 52 Asseiz mangerent, asseiz burent, Asseiz firent et feste et joie. Je meimes, qui iestaie, Ne vi piesa Si bele faire 56 Ne qui autant me peiist plaire, (2, p. 257). Finally, the guests depart, and the jongleurs who had entertained for the occasion seek their recompense from the host: 64 " Doneiz nos maitres ou deniers, Font il, qu'il est droiz et raison, S'ira chacuns en sa maison." (2, p. 258). AS luck would have it, Charlot le Juif is given a letter to Guillaume who, according to custom, was supposed to reward him with a gift for his part in the fes- tivities. The poet again resorts to anaphora to underscore the action: 76 Challoz en est venuz au bois : A Guillaume ses Iettres baille. Guillaumes les resut cens faille, Guillaumes les conmance a lire, 80 Guillaumes Ii 0 pris a dire: (2, p. 258). Guillaume bethinks himself of the rabbitskin and, vaunting its value (while neg- lecting to mention that he reckons it in terms of replacing a dead horse) : Qui m'a coutei plus de cent souz, 88 Se je soie de Dieu assouz '. " (2, p. 258). presents it to the jongleur. Charlot, observing quite truthfully that he could not hape to get that much for it at Saturday's market, departs with the Skin and re- flects an a suitable revenge, which Rutebeuf confides to us, adroitly avoiding 213 the use of an accurate verb: 113 Par le rendre la felonie Fist en la pel la vilanie, -- Vous saveiz bien ce que vuet dire. (2, p. 259). His account of Charlot's confrontation with his benefactor, however, is consider- ably more graphic, involving three of the five senses--visual, tactile, and olfac- tory--and without resorting to language the dénouement represents a dramatiza- tion of what Charlot told Guillaume to do with his rabbitskin. The natures of the protagonists are deftly drawn in both action and dialogue. Guillaume, through the disparity of word and deed, appears as the stingy master whose greed and duplicity are his undoing. As for Charlot, he is intended merely as the prototype of the Mr who has behaved honorably according to custom, and, having been cheated of his rightful compensation, feels thoroughly justified in repaying Guillaume in kind, making good Rutebeuf's opening admonition to his public to beware of cheating a minstrel. Pet au vilain belongs to the tradition of the popular medieval pastime of vilifying the peasant, and purports to explain why the souls of vilains are barred from Hell. Over a hundred years later, Chaucer will deal with the same theme in his Samnour's Tale, greatly expanding it and changing its emphasis. In his book on the French influence in Chaucer, Muscatine makes no mention of Rutebeuf or Pet au vilain but acknowledges the English poet's familiarity with 12th and 13th century fabliauxs. Undeniably, the two poems share a common theme, and it is interesting to note its treatment at the hands of two poets a century apart. 5Charles Muscatine, Chaucer and the French Tradition (Berkeley and Las Angeles : University of California Press, 1960), pp. 58-70. 214 Rutebeuf's_f9_bl_ia__u is only 76 lines long, 22 of which are taken up with a prologue giving the reasons for peasants' being excluded from Heaven. First of all, they have a known antipathy for cleric and priest, and love of humanity (charité) is not in them. Second, it is unthinkable that Jesus would allow them to dwell in the same place as the Virgin's Son. What is more, the poet continues, the vilain has lost the right to be lodged in Hell, for the reason we are about to hear. In the days when peasants were still accepted in the devil's domain, Hell made ready to receive the soul of one who was dying. Accordingly, a deputy was dispatched to his Sickbed to collect his soul in a leather sack. AS punishment for his misdeeds, the devil stomped on the Sick man's belly: Quar Ii Maufez par penitance 48 Li ot aus piez foulé la pance (2, p. 307). This process also facilitated forcing the soul out of the body : Quar le maufez cuide sanz faille 32 Que l'ame par le cul S'en aille. (2, p. 307). It seems, however, that the sick man, in an effort to cure his malady, had dined copiously earlier that evening, and there follows a clinical description of the effect of this meal on his digestive tract at the moment of the belly-stomping --"stretched taut as a zither string" (v. 38)--with unfortunate results which the devil, believing his mission accomplished, delivered to his brethren. The next day the devils held a council at which it was unanimously decided that the soul of a peasant was too foul to be allowed in Hell. Rutebeuf deviates from practice in that he does not terminate the poem with a proverb but with a speculation as to how indeed one might diSpase of a 215 peasant's soul. Not merely from the standpoint of its content, but in terms of tone and structure I am inclined to believe that Pet au vilain was one of Rutebeuf's earliest efforts in the genre. It is the shortest of the five pieces, closer in form to the monologue than the fabliau. It comes right to the point, as might an anecdote, but contains none of the realistic touches or local color which distinguish Rute- beuf's narrative skill. The lexicon is crude as is the imagery, and while there are instances of rich rhyme and anaphora, the subtle blending of content and ver- sification which we have come to expect of Rutebeuf is patently lacking. Though he deals with a similar locker-room theme in Charlot le Juif, it has a verve and finesse, an inherent irony that lessen the affensiveness of the dénouement. In Pet au vilain, I discern a younger Rutebeuf, intent on earning his livelihood at the fairs, the market-place and the tavern, courting the leer rather than the chuckle, a Rutebeuf who has not yet learned to control his craft. Chaucer, on the other hand, barring the differences of century and talent, has treated the therrewith a skill reminiscent of the best of the Rutebeuf fabliaux. His seemingly serious tone is at variance with the irony of his words and the be- havior of his characters. He has expanded the anecdote to 629 lines, including the prologue, which purports to inform the Canterbury pilgrims where the friars nest in Hell. While retaining the sick man, Chaucer replaces the devil with a begging friar or "limitour", whose relationship with the devil has already been established in the prologue. Instead of a soul being the solicited object, it is a gift to the church or, more exactly, to the limiter who seeks it on behalf of the church. Instead of the two protagonists, there are seven characters--the 216 friar, his helper, Thomas (the sick man), Thomas's wife, the lord of the manor, his lady, and his squire Jankin, who proposes the solution to the problem of di- viding Thomas's gift to the Limiter equally among his fellow friars, a solution which the manor folk deem worthy of a Euclid or a Ptolemy. The act of Rutebeuf's vilain was involuntary, whereas Chaucer's "cherl" behaved with malice aforethought, and, far from being the pariah of Rutebeuf's poem, the sick man is praised: 582 Touching this cherl, they seyde, subtiltee And heigh wit made him Speken as he Spak; He nis no fool, ne no demoniak.6 (p. 595). The portrayal of the Limiter's character--his greed, his hypocrisy, his envy, his making a god of his belly--is reminiscent of Rutebeuf's treatment of the Mendi— cants. There is another similarity. To make the transition between his prologue and the narration in the fabliaux, Rutebeuf makes use of slight variations of the same formula: "Jel di", "Ce di je", "Ice vous di je" (Pet au vilain) and "Je le vos di". In the Samnour's Tale, the friar, addressing Thomas, says: 124 '0 Thomas I Je vous dy, Thomas '. (p. 589). and again addressing Thomas's wife: 130 'Now dame, ' quad he, "je vous dy sanz doute, . . . These are the only French words in the entire tale (the italics are Chaucer's), and they have a Rutebovian ring. F&B forbear to analyze Pet au vilain, and one can understand their reluc- tance. It stands alone among the poet's works, antithetical to the image he pro- jects of himself in the other poems of serious or comic intent. 6All quotations are from Rev. Walter W. Skeat, The Student's Chaucer (Oxford: The Clarendon Press), pages indicated above. 217 3. Tongan - Invective There are only two examples of the tengan in Rutebeuf--Disputaison du croizé et du décroizé, discussed under the Crusade poems (see p.65 above), and Disputaison de Charlot et du barbier, an obvious parody of the provengale form. Both have the same metric form--an 8-Iine octosyllabic stanza with alternating rhymes in an a b a b a b a b pattern. Bath begin with the same word, "L'autrier" and make use of specific detail to lend credence to the proposed fiction. For in all probability, Rutebeuf did not actually witness the dispute, as he claimed, but took this means of ridiculing his fellow jongleurs. I He starts off in what appears to be the typical camedian's patter. "The other day, in the Saint Germain I'Auxerrois quarter, earlier in the morning than I normally care to be abroad, since by preference I am a late riser, I chanced upon the Barber tugging at Charlot's hands in such a way as to clearly demonstrate they were not behaving like first cousins"(vv. 1-8). Thereupon, in alternating stanzas, the two antagonists engage in scurrilous invective directed against each other until Rutebeuf is invited to act as arbiter of their dispute (v. 81). It is a name-calling M, Similar in tone, imagery and lexicon to the bawdier fabliaux, and like them mimetic, with a comic lilt and banter that must have insured its success as a performance piece. According to F88, Charlot would appear to have been a converted Jew, which gives the Barber of Melun an opportunity to raise doubts about the sincerity of his conversion: " Charlot, tu vas en compaignie 12 Par crestienté decevoir : ~ C'est trahison et felonie, Ce puet chascons apercevoir. . . " (2, p. 261). 218 Charlot, not to be outdone, replies, "By the faith which I owe the leper colony in which you abide, you have an ulcer. Saint Ladres (the leper) has broken his truce and struck you in the face. No point in making a pilgrimage now to pre- serve you from the disease" (W. 17-24). The Barber continues to bait the convert. "You believe as much in the virginity of Our Lady aS I do that a jackass has a soul. You love neither Gad nor the Church'." (w. 29-32). Whereupon Charlot ridicules the Barber's erstwhile occupation. "You're a barber without razor, without scissors, who knows neither how to clip or shave. You have neither a basin nor towels, nor the means of heating water" (w. 33-36). This stings the Barber to an invective that gathers momentum as he goes along. "You reap the benefit of all laws, " he says: Tu es ju'ys et crestTen, Tu es chevaliers et bargois 44 Et quant tu veus, clerc arcien. (2, p. 262). Then, warming to the task, he accuses Charlot of being a procurer, more graphi- cally than he needs to. "Since the time has come to Speak evil and cast aSpersions, " Charlot re- joinderS, "You will die poor and nude. If I am considered a procurer, then you are a go-between ("va Ii dire“)" (W. 49-56). They continue to trade insults in this wise until the Barber proposes that Rutebeuf who has known them both for ten years judge who is the better of the two. This gives the poet a fine opportunity to insult them both: -- "Seignor, par la foi que vous doi, Je ne sai le meillor eslire : Le mains pieur, si com”: .je croi, 92 Vous eslirai je bien du pire. (2, p. 264). 219 And he opts for the Barber as the less bad of the two. The dramatic nature of the piece-dialogue, impersonation, gesture, tonal-L ity--provides Rutebeuf with comic possibilities that he can exploit to the fullest. Mock combat, raised voices, raised fists, bawdy gesture, movement from this side to that, first Charlot, then the Barber, and finally Rutebeuf himself stepping be-' tween the two antagonists as he parodies his judicious decision. It is Sheer fun for performer and audience. De Brichemer Shares the some octosyllabic strophic structure as the Dis- putaison and may be considered a personal invective piece. There is some specu- lation as to the intent of the poem. Monsignor Pesce sees in Brichemer "son ami a la taverne, qui porte un sobriquet comme Iui et qui n'est que trap obligeant, hélas '." (p. 76). F8-B call the poem on epigram directed at someone who has cheated Rutebeuf and see the poet as taking this means of revenging himself pub- licly on the culprit, while disguising his identity with a nickname, for which two sources are suggested. Brichemer, of course, is the stag's name in the Roman de Renart, which F88 believe stems from the ward "briche" synonym for "tromperie", evocative of the stag's ruses in failing his pursuers. There is also the "jeu de la briche" to which Rutebeuf makes reference in the poem, 0 game in which the leader carries a small wand, offering it to all the players, but giving it to none of them (I, p. 579). Whatever the identity of Brichemer, the tone of the invective is more sophisticated than in the debate between Charlot and the Barber, and softened by the admission that: 3 Endroit de moi jel doi amer. (I, p. 580). 220 The comic element is sustained by pun: 1 Rimer m'estuet de Brichemer Qui jue de moi a la briche. (1, p. 580). and ironic simile: Autele atente m'estuet fere 16 Cam li Breton font de lor roi. (I, p. 580). "He is going to make me wait for him to keep his promise the way the Bretons wait for their King", the poet says, alluding to the Breton belief that King Arthur would one day reappear among them, which rather precludes the likelihood of Brichemer's ever making good on his word. Unless the identity of Brichemer were known to Rutebeuf's audience, I cannot see what purpose it would serve to twit him publicly under a pseudonym. But if, as the Monsignor suggests, he was a fellow jongleur, Brichemer might well have felt impelled to make good on his promise after having been publicly exposed as a welcher. Considering the treatment Rutebeuf's enemies receive at his hands, one might well suppose that Brichemer were a friend, for the tone is benign rather than choleric. Summary of the poems of Comic Intent Essentially performance pieces, the fifteen poems discussed in this chapter are designed to display the virtuosity of the jongleur in his function as entertainer. The monologues have been likened to the camedian's patter which is not in itself mimetic but relies for its effectiveness on timing, pace, tonality and gesture. On the other hand, the fabliaux and the tengon, despite their narrative content, are preponderantly dramatic in that they contain plot, dialogue and characterization 221 and provide opportunities for impersonation, movement, gesture, mime and pantomime. While the tercet coué monologues, the fabliaux, and the Disputaison are comic in intent, and have as their purpose the laughter produced by katastasis, a case for serious intent might be made with respect to the octosyllabic-strophic monologues. Their interpretation is open to question, yet as l have tried to Show both the Paix and the Povreté contain elements which might plausibly be con- sidered of comic intent Since their subject matter purports to be personal and therefore of lower purpose than the poems of serious intent examined in the pre- ceding chapters. The Mart Rutebeuf is the only monologue which appears to me to be Sincerely personal and serious in tone, yet here, too, theme precludes its con- sideration among the 36 poems we have designated aS of high purpose. By nature and intent, the fabliau may be accounted a comic genre, al- though its narrative form has much in common with the serious narrative poems in structure, devices and the use of the octosyllabic rhyming couplet. AS for the Complainte and Disputaison, they are serious genres which the poet parodies for comic effect. A study of lexicon reveals some Similarities with the poems of serious in- tent and some rather interesting differences. One finds the some use of proverbs and proverbial expressions, such as "Fos est qui sor s'amour acroit" (I, p. 567, v. 29) and "Qui baraz quiert, baraz Ii vient" (2, p. 259, v. 132), but no Bibli- cal references. The word "pance" recurs with the verb "fouler" added to the idea of "engraisser" voiced in the serious poems, and there are also references 1’0 "Li Maufez" and "L'Anemi". Yet the only vocabulary of salvation occurs in 222 the Mort Rutebeuf. Three of the five fabliaux contain variants of "Que vos iroie je dizant" (see Appendix C-ii) which appears also in the serious narratives (see Appendix A-v) and there are four instances of the expression "ce me cemble" in some form or other. Significantly lacking in the personal monologues, however, are such ex- pressions as "Je di par voir, non pas devine", the frequent incidence of which lent such sincerity to the serious poems (see Appendix A-iii). True, the poet makes ironic use of "Ce n'est pas guile", "Ce n'est pas doute" and "C'est sanz doutance" (see Mariage, p. 178 above), but with respect to such blatant hyper- bole that the very reverse is implied. Is this omission of such terms insisting on the author's truth aS we find in the serious poems support for the argument of the "Poetic I"? Peculiar to the poems of comic intent are light oaths of the "Foi que je doi. . ." variety (see Appendix C-iii for incidence) and "Se je soie de Dieu assouz", which mimic colloquial conversation. There are fewer instances of bawdy lexicon than one would expect, indeed less than in Rabelais, and with the exception of Pet au vilain which is excessively crude, Rutebeuf will resort to euphemisms, such as "Vas saviez bien ce que veut dire" (2, p. 259, v. 114) and "Cu je cuit que pou conquerroie se la besoingne vous nommoie" (2, p. 294, W. 31-32), often more effective than the Specific verb. In the main there is little significant difference in rhetorical devices be- tween the poems of serious or comic intent in that one finds the some rich rhyme, anaphora, alliteration in bath, but there are fewer instances of annominatio in the comic poems and those there are are far less extensive than in the serious. 223 It would appear likely that annominatio in its fullest and most effective form is reserved for poems of serious intent. Table 4 demonstrates the preponderance of first-person Singular forms in the personal monologues, decidedly "I" oriented, whoever the "I" may be. As for the fabliaux, the first-person Singular is indicative of dialogue rather than the poet himself, and as large an incidence may be noted in the second-person plural forms, with few firstperson plurals indicated. There are fewer imperatives and in- terrogatives than among the serious poems since these are acknowledged performance pieces, shorter in length, and contact with the audience is maintained mimetically rather than through language. In the tengon, the "you" orientation is strikingly apparent in bath second-person Singular and plural forms, with the poet intruding half as much as the antagonists. Note the impersonality of Pet au vilain. TABLE 4 st n n a SING.“ PLUR. SING. PLUR. IMPER. INTER. LINES 224 With respect to versification, the tercet coué has already been dis- cussed (See Appendix B) and cannot be specifically cited as serious, comic, or dramatic. The octosyllabic-strophic monologues have the same stanzaic form and rhyme Scheme as four of the poems of serious intent (see p.185 above), and the fabliaux use octosyllabic rhyming couplets as all narrative poems. As for the Disputaison and Brichemer, they have a stanzaic form and rhyme scheme in com- mon with the serious Disputaison, so there would appear to be no real relation- ship between Tone-Intent and versification. Since the emphasis of the poems of comic intent is on laughter rather than thought, they are mimetic instead of rhetorical and underscore the entertainment function of the performer-poet. C H A P T E R 6 Poems of avowedly Dramatic Intent Dramatic intent presupposes performance before an audience and imperso- nation of characters on the part of the jongleur. Themes may be serious or comic, but they have one thing in common: they are enacted instead of narrated. Of the three poems to be considered in this chapter, one is a dramatic monologue (M l'Herberie); one is a poeme dialogué (Sacristain et la femme au chevalier); one is a play (Miracle de Théophile). The last two, dealing with miracles of the Virgin, are serious in theme, while the monologue is wholly comic. Why do we not include the fabliaux in this category? Or the Disputaison? It is a question of primary purpose. Though the fabliaux might be considered poemes dialogués, they are anecdotal in nature and therefore essentially narrative. True, they make use of dramatic elements such aS plot, characterization, dialogue, mime and pantomime, but these are intended to implement narrative and not as an end in themselves. Two centuries later when the dramatic possibilities inherent in the fabliaux b‘ecome primary in intent, they will revert to the theater which spawned them and became force. As for the Disputaison, it began as a rhetorical contest (debate) and even when Rutebeuf parodies the form in Charlot et le barbier he does not change its essential agon, though it becomes invective rather than argument. In the foregoing chapters, mimetic elements were discussed as a means of dramatizing rhetoric. In this chapter, rhetoric will play the secondary role. 225 226 1. Dit de l'Herberie Emile Picot, in his carefully detailed study on the subject, explains that the term “dramatic monologue" in the Middle Ages was used to denote two differ- ent forms, "Ie sermon joyeux et Ie monologue proprement dit".' The first he de- fines as "une parodie, généralement fort Iibre, des sermons en vers ou en prose qui précédaient les grands mysteres. . .c'est une suite plus ou mains heureuse de traits satiriques" (1, p. 358). The second he describes as "une scene a un personnage, dons Iaquelle l'acteur joue un veritable rale. . .c'est une comédie complete placée dans un cadre restreint" (1, p. 358). The sermon was a récit; the monologue mime- tic. It' is this latter form that is intended in classifying the Dit de l'Herberie as a dramatic monologue, what might properly be accounted "une force a un personnage" in the 15th century. The majority of selections cited by Picot are from the 15th and 16th centu- ries but he makes the claim that the Dit de l'Herberie proves the existence of a 13th century theater Similar to that of the 15th, adding that the 15th century authors re- mained faithful to the old traditions until the Pléiade broke with them in the 16th (2, pp. 492-94). Ordinarily written in rhyming couplets, the dramatic monologue was supposed to be approximately 200 lines long, but often exceeded this limit. Many had prose passages similar to the Spoken interludes of comic songs, so that while the prose in the Herberie is unique in Rutebeuf, it is quite in keeping with the tradition of the dramatic monologue. Emile Picot, " Le monologue dramatique danS I'ancien theatre frangais, " Romania, XV (1886), 258-422 (designated as "1"); XVI (1887), 438-542 (desig- nated as "2"); XVII (1888), 207-275. 227 The Dit de l'Herberie differs from the monologues of misfortune discussed in Chapter 5 in that the first-person singular refers to an assumed identity, where- as in the personal lyrics the first-person singular purports to refer to Rutebeuf him- self. The jongleur does not appear at all in the Herberie. He impersonates a char- latan from start to finish, without commentary, without intrusion. Thus the role is thoroughly mimetic. Ham has called the Herberie "The Rutebeuf Guide for Medieval Salescraft"2 but the technique of the soft sell which it epitomizes is just as valid today as it was in the 13th century. The immediate ancestor of the charlatan was the Spice mer- chant whose role in the early liturgical Easter dramatization become more and more expanded until he emerged as a comic character, vaunting his wares with the some extravagant claim as Rutebeuf's pitchman, albeit with less subtlety. As previously noted, the first part is comprised of 112 lines of tercet coué verse, followed by 74 lines of prose. Seventeen imperatives attest to its "you" orientation, and 32 first-person singulars tell "you" what "I" am going to do for you. The progression is admirable, and encompasses the best tenets of communica- tion. Starting with the "you" approach, Gather 'round all you good people, sit down, listen to me. he introduces himself: 10 Je Sui uns mires (2, p. 273). and sets forth his sterling qualifications: ZStudies in Philology, XLVII, (1950), 20-34. 228 Si ai estei en mainz empires. Dou Caire m'a tenu li sires 13 Plus d'un estei ; 16 Meir ai passee, Si m'en reving par la Moree, Ou j'ai fait mout grant demoree, l9 Et par Salerne, Par Burienne et par Byterne. . En Puille, en Calabre, en Palerne 22 Ai herbes prises (2, p. 272). From himself, he skillfully Shifts their attention to the high quality and remarkable curative powers of his wares. Although Ham has Spent much time trying to identify the geographical names and the precious "stones" mentioned in the poem, it seems to me that the humor is intensified by the admixture of the real and the fancied, and that Rutebeuf intended it as sheer fatrasie (W. 34-38). Diamonds, rubies and gar- nets form part of the some series as daisies, and ferrites, creSperiteS, galofaces and tellagons doubtless created for the exigencies of rhyme and also to.enlighten us concerning the veracity of the "herbier". The same technique occurs a few lines farther on: Carbanculus et garcelars, 49 Qui sunt tuit ynde, Herbes apart des dezers d'Ynde Et de la Terre Lincorinde 52 Qui siet seur I'onde Elz quatre parties dou monde (2, p. 274). From the rare qualities of his herbes, the pitchman returns the audience's attention to his own powers. "I can cure you," he promises, giving Rutebeuf an excellent opportunity to catalogue some hilarious ailments and parody the ingredients of a toothache cure in a five-line anaphora that begins: 229 Preneiz dou sa'yn de marmote, De la merde de la linote 82 Au mordi main, Et de la fuelle dou plantain, Et de l'estront de la putain 85 Qui soit bien ville, Et de la pourre de I'estrille, Et dou ruyl de la faucille, 88 Et de la Iainne Et de l'escorce de l'avainne Pilei premier jar de semainne, (2, p. 275). Make a plaster of it, he enjoines his listeners. Wash the tooth with the juice. Eat the plaster under your cheek. Sleep awhile. This gratuitous advice is intended as evidence of the salesman's magnanimity. He has only the best interests of the audience at heart. Then, lapsing into prose, he assures them that he is not to be confused with those poor quacks in their ill-fitting cloaks, with portable display case, who hawk their wares on the church parvis. No indeed. He is in the employ of a world- famous physician . . .ma dame Trote de Salerne qui fait cuevrechies de ses oreilles et le sorciz Ii pendent a chaainnes d'argent par desus IeS espaules. . . (0, pp. 276-77). Picot interpretes this last as referring to the long ears of the pitchman's mule and the silver chain which served as the beast's bridle (2, p. 493), but F88 see it only as hyperbole for burlesque effect. He allows for audience response : . . .je vos apanrai a garir dou mal des vers, se vos le voleiz o'r'r. Voleiz o'r'r ? (2. p. 277). and doubtless waits for his public to Shout "Yes", whereupon he obliges with a soliloquy on the origin of worms and the best herb in the world to cure them. 230 There is a line here that may or may not have autobiographical significance : En cele Champeigne ou je fui neiz (2, p. 278). It is the only such reference found in his poems, but may possibly be a touch of truth, and there are critics who believe Rutebeuf was of Champenois origin. It is interesting to observe that Rutebeuf's prose is as fluid and cadenced as his verse. He is given to compound sentences, interSperses them liberally with imperatives, and makes frequent use of relative pronouns. The tone of pseudo- sincerity prevails to the end. Car, se mes peres et ma mere estoient ou peril de la mort et il me demandoient la meilleur herbe que je Ior peiisse doneir, je Ior donroie ceste (2, p. 280). "For that's the way I sell my herbs and my ointments, " he assures us, forthrightly, "Let those who wish come get them; those who do not, let them be. " Parody is achieved through the fatrasie already referred to above--tellagons, galofaces, garcelars, for example--as well as through hyperbole: De toute fievre sanz quartainne Gariz en mainz d'une semainne 67 Ce n'est pas faute ; (2, pp. 274-75). Ces herbes vos ne les mangereiz pas : car il n'a Si fort buef en cest pa'r's, ne Si for destriere, que, s'il en avait ausi groz com un pois sor la langue, qu'il ne morust de male mart, tant sont fors et ameires; (2, p. 278). through irony : Je vos di par sainte Marie Que ce n'est mie freperie 61 Mais granz noblesce. (2, p. 274). Et se vos saveiz home xort, Faites Ie venir a ma cart ; 109 JO iert touz sainz ; anues mais nul jor n'o'y mains, (2, p. 276). 231 through proverbs and proverbial turns of phrase : 41 Foux est se il se desconforte (2, p. 274). car ceil qui auteil sert, d'auteil doit vivre (2, p. 278). ce qui est ameir a la bouche Si est boen au cuer (2, p. 278). and the cadence and repetition of the salesman's pitch, which seems to imply that it has been memorized : 53 E12 quatre parties dou monde (2, p. 274). Et sachiez que c'est la plus sage dame qui soit enz quatre parties dou monde (2, p. 277). . . . Ia meilleur herbe qui soit elz quatre parties dou monde (2, p. 277). Se vos n'aveiz blanc, Si preneiz vermeil ; se vos n'aveiz vermeil, prenez de la bele yaue clere. . .Se vos failleiz a un, preneiz autre (2, p. 279). a Paris un parisi, a Orliens un orlenois, au Mans un man- soiS, a Chartres un chartrain, a Londres en Aingleterre un esterlin, par dou pain, par dou vin a moi, par dou fain, par de l'avainne a man roncin : (2, p. 278). Note also the rhyme in this last prose passage--chartrain, esterlin, pain, vin, fain, roncin-- which underscores the Sing-song intonation of the pitchman. While the lexicon may be a bit bawdy for modern critical taste, compared with other monologues cited in Picot, it is fairly innocuous for its time. A masterpiece of caricature and comic verve, l'Herberie is as titivating . . . 3 . . . today as It seems to have been In Rutebeuf's time. Its emphasrs IS on caricature 3There is evidence that the Herberie was one of the most popular pieces of its time. F88 quote the fabliau Vilain au buffet, in which a nobleman organizes a contest among minstrels to discover "la meillor truffe savroit dire ne fere" in which these lines occur: 150 Et li autre dit I'Erberie La ou il at mainte risee : (2, pp. 266-67). 232 and the poet has skillfully lent a living dimension to a stereotype whose counter- part remains unchanged ta this day. It should settle for all time the question as to whether Rutebeuf was capable of credible character delineation. Picot says rightly that "dans le monologue il faudra posséder en autre l'entente du théatre. . . un comédien exercé pourra seul rendre le monologue supportable" (I, p. 360). I feel we can assume that Rutebeuf was a "comédien exercé" and that he portrayed his quack to perfection, perhaps even utilizing props in his performance. 2. Le Sacristain et la femme au chevalier Though undoubtedly a performance piece, this 766-line poem is a Rutebeuf pot-pourri that defies facile classification. In form, theme, tone and lexicon it resembles the serious narrative poems and indeed has passages in common with Marie l'Egyptienne, Voie de Paradis, Sainte Elysabel and the Dit de Notre Dame. Yet the dialogue and cast of characters are reminiscent of the fabliaux, save that it is a pious tale dealing with a miracle of the Virgin. Rutebeuf himself refers to it as a conte : Sel sot mesires Beneoiz 748 Qui de Dieu soit toz beneoiz A Rustebuef le raconta Et Rustebués en un conte 0 Misc la chose et la rima. (2, p. 234). while I have classed it as a poeme dialogue because, pared of its extraneous rhetoric, it is a mimetic account of a miracle. It is this superfluity of rhetoric which gives us pause in identifying the genre. I think, however, that a consideration of the circumstances under which it was written may clarify the author's intent. 233 The poet tells us at the outset that the piece was commissioned by Benoit, but we do not know who Benoit was. F&B, basing themselves on the title "mesires" (see v. 747 above) propose that he was "un membre de I'église sécu- liere, et il fallait pour que Rutebeuf attendit de Iui une‘ recompense, que le per- sonnage fOt d'un certain rang" (2, p. 206). From the nature of the poem, I would conjecture that it was intended for some important occasion and that Rutebeuf was chosen to perform before the assemblage in view of his considerable reputation. This would be sufficient reason for him to outdo himself in earning his fee, and it seems reasonable to me that, to assure his success, he borrowed from other poems in his repertory those passages he felt represented his best efforts. In discussing Marie l'Egyptienne, I pointed out that there was no indica- tion it had been commissioned, but that it seemed rather to belong to the poet's general repertory (see p. 145 above). Perhaps it was the success of Marie l'Egyp- tienne and its Similar theme that prompted Benoit to confide the manuscript of the Sacristain to Rutebeuf. The passages cited below indicate only the lines they have in common: Egyptienne Sacristain 261 Virge pucele 489 Virge pucele Qui de Dieu fus mere et ancele, Qui de Dieu fus mere et ancele 265 Se ta porteUre ne fust 493 Se ta porteiire ne fust Qui fu mise en la croiz de fust Qui fu mise en la croiz de fust, En enfer fussons sans retor : En enfer fussons sanz retor : 268 Ci eiist pereilleuse tor. 596 Ci eiist pereilleuse tor. Dame, qui par ton douz salu Dame qui par ton douz salu Nous a geté de la palu Nous a geté de la palu D'enfer qui est vils et obscure Denfer, qui est vil et obscure, 272 Virge pucele nete et pure 500 Virge pucele nete et pure. . . Si come la rose ist de l'espine 503 Si com Ia rose ist de l'eSpine Issis, glorieuse ro’t'ne, Issis, glorieuse ro'r'ne, 234 De ju'érie qu'est poingnanz, 505 De ju'érie qu'est poingnanz, 276 Et tu es souef et oingnanz Et tu es souez et oingnanz. Faced with a narrative calling for two prayers to the Virgin, it is quite possible that Rutebeuf bethought himself of the earlier version, felt it could not be im- proved upon, and included it in the poem, thus having only to create a second prayer. Then there is the anaphora on Envie to which I alluded in Voie de Paradis (see p. 131 above), which bears repetition here for side by Side examination: Voie de Paradis Sacristain 337 Li cars au Envie s'embat 39 Li cars au Envie s'embat Ne se solace ne esbat. . . Ne se solace ne esbat. . . Envie fet hommes tuer 49 Envie fet homme tuer 348 Et Si fet bonnes remuer, Et si fet bonne remuer, Envie fet rooingner terre, Envie fet rooingnier terre, Envie met ou siecle guerre, 52 Envie met ou siecle guerre, Envie fet mari et fame Envie fet mari et fame 352 Ha'r'r, Envie destruit ame, Ha'r'r, envie destruit ame, Envie met descorde es freres, Envie met descorde es freres, Envie fet ha'r'r les meres 56 Envie fet ha‘r’r les meres, Envie destruit gentillece, Envie destruit gentillece, 354 Envie grieve, Envie blece Envie grieve, envie blece, Envie confont Charité Envie confont charité Et Si destruit Humilité ; 60 Envie ocist humilité. Ne sai que plus briefment vous die : Ne sai que plus briement vous die: 360 Tuit Ii mal vienent par Envie. Tuit Ii mal viennent par envie. (1, p. 353). (2, p. 215-16). Envie, being one of the vices, is essential to the theme in Voie de Paradis, but its inclusion in the Sacristain is gratuitous rhetorical comment and could easily be omitted without in any way affecting the action of the miracle. There are two passages in common with Sainte Elysabel which pose prob- Iems of priority of inSpiration. One has to do with the poet's trademark--Clumsy Ox-- (see Dit d'Hypocrisie, p.120 above). As pointed out earlier,"Rutebeuf" 235 was a sobriquet which the poet expanded into an advertising device--a piece of self-deprecation intended to imply the reverse, but also a mnemonic that is easily remembered by an audience. It might be regarded as a primitive copyright. From this perspective, it is not surprising for it to appear in his two commissioned works-- Elfiabel and Sacristain. Yet F8.B use this passage to bolster their claim that Sacristain preceded EIEabel because ". . .dans Elysabel, l'exposé est confus; et c'est ce qui arrive Iorsque par retour a une idée qu'on a déja exprimée, on Io reprend avec omission d'intermédiaires indispensables, en s'entendant mieux sai-meme qu'on ne se fait entendre des autres" (2, p. 210). While I agree that this is a just observation in general, I am not sure that it is applicable here. In my discussion offiafle; EIEabel I commented on the poet's inadequacy to the translation task (see p. 96 above). It is not just the passage quoted here but the entire poem that is rambling and confused, To me, it has the ring of an earlier work, before the poet came into full mastery of his talent. It impresses me as having been hastily rather than carefully written, as if an uninspired Rutebeuf were eager to complete the task. A comparison of the two passages from the standpoints of metaphoric strength and versifying Skill might just as plausibly indicate that the Sacristain represents an improvement over an earlier attempt. Elysabel Sacristain Dont Rustebués a fet Ia rime A Rustebuef le raconta, 2156 Se Rustebués rudement rime EtRustebués en un conte 0 Et se rudece en sa rime a Mise Ia chose et la rima. Prenez garde qui Ia rima. 752 Or dist il que, s'en la rime a Chos'é ou il ait se bien non, Rustebuef, qui rudement oevre, Que vous regardez a son non. 236 2160 Qui rudement fet Ia rude oevre, Rudes est et rudement oevre : Qu'assez en sa rudece ment, 756 Li rudes ham fet la rude oevre Rima la rime rudement. Si rudes est, rudes est bués ; Quar par nule riens ne crairoie Rudes est, s'a‘non Rudebués. 2164 Que bués ne fe'r’st rude roie, Rustebués oevre rudement, Tant i me'n'st l'en grant estude. 760 Sovent en so rudece ment. Se Rustebués fet rime rude, (2, p. 234). Je n'i part plus, més Rustebués 2168 Est aussi rudes comme uns bués. (2, p. 165). In cadence, Elysabel is uneven, while Sacristain has the rhythm of litany which leads harmoniously into a closing prayer. Bath contain alliteration--recurring l"r" "m" and nasal sounds--and rich rhyme, although their arrangement is far more skillful in Sacristain. Once a poet has written such well; turned lines as these: A Rustebuef le raconta Et Rustebués en un conte a Mise la chase et la rima 752 Or dist il que, S'en la rime 0 why should he at a later date write the lines below to express the some thought: Dont Rustebués a fet la rime 2156 Se Rustebués rudement rime Et se rudece en sa rime a Prenez garde qui la rima. especially Since he has not Shown himself averse to transposing whole passages from one of his poems to another ? The second passage in common between the two poems appears also in ab- breviated form in Dit de Nostre Dame : 19 Se j'estoie bans escrivains Ainz seroie d'escrire vains Que je vos eiJsse conté La tierce part de sa banté 237 Elysabel ' Sacristain 985 Se j'estoie bans escrivains 97 Se j'estoie bans escrivains, Ainz seroie d'escrire vains Ains seroie d'escrire vains, Que j'eiisse dit Ia moitié Que j'eiisse escrit.la moitié 988 De l'amor et de l'amistié 100 De l'amor et de l'amistié Que Dieu moustroit et jar et nuit, Qu'a Dieu moustroit et jar et nuit. Et je dout qu'il ne vous anuit. Encor dout je ne vous anuit Here again the couplet common to all three is a rhetorical formula, seemingly self-deprecating while implying the contrary. If we examine the differences between the two juxtaposed versions, they appear to be quite minor, yet the substitution of "escrit" for the "dit" in Elysabel; the substitution of the preposi- tion "a Dieu" for the dative "Dieu"; and the transposition of words in the final line from "Et je daut qu'il ne vous anuit" to "Encor dout je ne vous anuit" all improve the metric flow. F&B are of the opinion that the above verses appear to have been merely inserted in Elysabel, without relation to the rhyme preceding or following the passage and see this as a further indication that the Sacristain was the earlier version (2, p. 209). There is, however, a similarity of thoughtto be distinguished in the three poems in which this couplet appears. In Dit de Notre Dame, he is speaking of the Virgin herself, and note he states that if he were a good writer he would not be able to convey a third of her goodness. In the other two, he is Speaking of Elysabel and of the knight's wife, and he uses the fraction "one half", but he is Simply using hyperbole to express "more than I can ever hope to convey". The _D_it develops the idea less fully than the other two and may have provided the source of the couplet. 238 While setting the chronology as (1) Egyptienne, (2) Sacristain, (3) Voie de Paradis, (4) Elysabel, F8.B admit that it rests "sur des bases fragiles". I would be inclined to place Voie de Paradis and Elysabel before the Sacristain. The fact that there are four instances in it of passages in common with other poems --more than occur in any other poems Rutebeuf has written-~in addition to the reasons set forth above, prompts me to believe that the borrowing was done in the poet's zeal to put his best foot forward for an illustrious company. This would also explain the extraneous rhetoric which makes for a sprawl- ing rather than a tightly-knit narrative. In Marie l'Egyptienne and in the fabliaux Rutebeuf has Shown himself to be a highly skilled story-teller. It is interesting to observe that in the two commissioned narratives he appears less so. True, the Sacristain is not a translation and he has more liberty of action and invention, but it is full of passages which really have no bearing on the narrative and seem to have been introduced to Show off the jongleur's rhetorical virtuosity in addition to his mimetic flair. A consideration of the poem's structure will demonstrate this effectively. vv. 1-16 Benoit commissioned the work from Rutebeuf who hopes that a good job will elicit a fitting recompense. Ending with the proverb "De tel marchié tel vente" (v. 16), he leads right into the next 13 verses. W. 17-30 An annominatio on "marchiez" having to do with the bargain made on earth for the salvation of the soul. W. 31-66 Beware of bargaining with the Devil, and guard against Envie which is worse than viper or leopard. Then the passage on Envie cited above is followed by a couplet saying, "I would ITk—e—to tell you a story about a miracle." This iS a long prologue to a narrative poem. Sixty-six lines of introduction before 239 the knight's wife is mentioned. He describes her as a good and pious woman (vv. 67-109) and goes on to introduce the sacristain, of whom he is equally ful- Some in praise (w. III-148). These two are innocent victims of the Devil : Anemis Si les entama Qui Ii amis l'amie ama Et l'amie I'ami amot. 172 Li uns ne set de l'autre mot; De plus en plus les enchanta (2, p. 219). and bear no responsibility for what happened to them, an idea reinforced a few lines later by another annominatio: Or est la dame moult obscure, Quar Ii obscurs I'a obscurcie 196 De S'obscurté et endurcie ; De male cure I'a curee. Ci a moult obscure curee (2, p. 219). and still another: Vairement dit an, ce me samble ; "Diex done blef, deables I'amble." Et li deable ant bien emblé 216 Ce que Diex amoit miex que blé. (2, p. 220). All this digression delays the first line of dialogue (in which the lady admits her love to herself) for 220 lines, producing an introduction to the action longer than the whole of any fabliau but Frere Denise. We arrive at line 225 before the first scene in which the lady and her sacristain meet and Speak , and the action becomes mimetic, interSpersed to be sure with narration to set the sequence of scenes (vv. 255-274). Even the body of the miracle itself is not immune to digression and rhetorical display, however: Papelars fet bien ce qu'il doit, 404 Qui se forment papelardoit. De l'engin sevent et de I'art Li ypocrite papelart. (2, p. 225). 240 De la loenge du pueple ardent : 408 Par ce papelart papelardent. Ne vaut rien papelarderie Puis que la papelarde rie, Jamés n'apapelardirai, 412 Aingais deS papelars dirai : "Par chose que papelars die Ne croirai més papelardie." (2, p. 225). The effect of the rhyme, ingenious though it be, coupled with the word play, is ridicule of the first order, but there is no justification for the inclusion of the pos- sage except to demonstrate the poet's artistry and provide a favorite target. In- deed 45 lines later on, the Beguines receive their Share of invective, further de- laying the action of the plot. Els encusa une beguine ; 460 So langue at non "Male voisine". Or ant beguin ch'r'e au fautre ; Beguin encusent ll uns l'autre, Beguin font volentiers damage, 464 Que c'est Ii droiz de beguinage ; Més que los en puissent avoir, Beguin ne quierent autre avoir. In his conclusion, the poet acknowledges his debt. to Benoit for the material on which his tale is based, and gives his trademark Speech, ending with six lines of prayer reminiscent of the Crusade poems: Or prions au definement Jhesucrist Ie Roi bonement Qu'il nous doinst joie pardurable 764 Et paradis I'esperitable. Dites amen trestuit ensamble ; Ci faut li diz, se com moi samble. (2, p. 234). The Sacrestain, therefore, has elements in common with the Crusade, polemic, sermonizing and Marian poems as well as the fabliaux, and seems to me to justify the contention that Rutebeuf intended it as a vehicle which would exploit to the 241 fullest advantage his talents as writer and histrion. Still, of the 766 lines, Sixty per cent (489 lines) is devoted to the recount- ing of the miracle which prompts me to classify it as a poeme dialogué having enactment as its primary purpose. The theme--the thwarting of the Devil by the Virgin-~is taken from one of the serrnones vulgares of Jacques de Vitry which Rutebeuf seems to have followed faithfully in chronology and detail with one ex- ception. Jacques de Vitry states : . . .diabolus invidens honestati et fame eorum immisit eis vehementes temptatianes, ita quad amor spiritualis conversus est in carnalem (2, p. 212). but in Rutebeuf's version Ne fet pechié ne autre chose 352 Dont Diex ne so Mere les chose, Ainz sont ausi com suer et frere : La douce Dame Ior soit mere '. (2, p. 223). His rejection of the carnal aspect of the couple's relationship actually strengthens the plot. By stressing the purity and nobility of the victims in contrast with their actions, he effectively portrays the power of the Devil to infiltrate even the most pious souls, making the intercession of the Virgin in their behalf more credible. For who but Notre Dame is strong enough to foil the corrupter of innocence ? While the poet may have intended the scene in which the lady acknowledges to herself her compelling and impossible love as a parody of the roman courtois, it has an almost Racinian quality: . . . "Dolente, lasse, Ceste dolor toute autre passe. Lasse '. que porrai devenir ? 224 Comment me porrai contenir En tel maniere qu'il pergoive Que Ia seue amor me degoive ? (2, p. 220). 242 Though She deplores her miserable fate, she must succumb to it for it is not She herself who is plotting her destiny. Of what avail is the human will against the devil's blandishments ? lnevitably, the sacristan declares his love: Ne puis plus ma dolor couvrir 268 Ainz me covient ma bouche ouvrir : Les denz me covient desserrer ; Vous me fets sovent serrer Le cuer el ventre sanz demor : Dame, je vous aim par amor." (2, p. 221). and in depicting her reaction, Rutebeuf betrays a sound knowledge of female psychology (vv. 273-320). At first, she is incensed: Moult savez bien servir de guile. Estes vous par c'é en la vile Par la bane gent engingnier ? 280 Ha '. com savez bien barguingnier '. she addresses the atmOSphere at large, referring to him in the third-person Singular: Je cuidai qu'il fust uns hermites, Et il est uns faus ypocrites. Ahi '. ahi '. quel norrigon '. 288 Il est de piau de herigon Envelopez desouz la robe Et defors sert la gent de lobe, Et s'a la trahison ou cars 292 Et fet biau semblant par defors. " But when he hastily reassures her: --Dame, dame, ne vous anuit '. Avant soufferai jor et nuit Des or més man mal et ma paine 296 Que vous die chose grevaine. Tere m'estuet, je me terai : Lessier l'estuet, je le lerai : Vous a proier n'en puis plus fere. her indignation melts and she confesses: 243 300 --Biaus sire chiers, ne me puis tere Tant vous aim, nus nel porroit dire. Then with calm feminine practicality, she proposes that they appropriate sufficient treasure--she from her husband, he from the convent--to sustain their needs and run away together : Prenons deniers et autre avoir Si que nous vivons a honor 312 La ou nous serons a sejor. (2, p. 222). to which her partner readily agrees. A comic note is introduced into the narration following the above scene by this annominatio and equivocal word play: 337 Un troussiau fet : troussiau, més trousse. Le troussiau prent, au col Ie trousse. Or il a le troussiau troussé. Thus, abundantly provided for, they depart for a distant city where they take up Ioding in a hotel, living together as brother and sister (v. 353). The transition to the convent is swiftly and alliteratively made: 355 Venir me covient au couvent and there follows a lively little scene in which the action is underscored with anaphora, alliteration, annominatio, the cadence and lexicon of everyday Speech, and an accurate knowledge of human nature. Li couvenz dart, ne se remue ; Li couvenz Ia descouvenue Ne set pas : savoir Ii covient, 360 Quar uns convers au couvent vient Et dist : "Seignor, sus vous levez S'anuit més lever vous devez Qu'il est biaus jars et clers et granz '." (2, p. 224). Aha I The first conclusion is jumped to. Our sacristan must have drunk too much 244 wine last night and overslept(vv. 369-372). Second conslusion: Més je cuit qu'autre chose i a 374 Foi que doi Ave Maria. They call the sacristan. No answer. Then they begin to worry. Chascuns vousist bien estre fuer, Quar trestuit Si grant paor orent 384 (Li un (les autres riens ne sorent) Que Ia char Ior fremist et tramble. The abbot voices the fear as fact, even before the treasurer has the chance to confirm it: 396 "Seignor, dist il, nous sons lobé : N'avons ne chalice ne croiz Ne tresor qui vaille deus noiS." (2, p. 224). and the scene ends with the abbot voicing his certainty that there is no cause for alarm, the culprit will be found: Dist Ii abes : "Ne vous en chaille '. 400 Va s'en il? O’r’l '. Bien s'en aille '. S'il est de droit, encor savrons La au il est, Si le ravrons." (2, p. 225). It is at this point that the poet launches into the "papelars" diatribe cited above, before taking us to the knight's house to witness the discovery scene. The poor man is incredulous: "Ha '. Diex, com m'avez escharni, Dist Ii chevaliers, biaus douz Sire '. 424 Or ne cuidai qu'en nul empire Hist tel fame com Ia moie : (2, p. 225). ending his speech with Rutebeuf's most aft-quoted proverb, "N'est pas tout or quanqu'il reluit." (v. 428). The husband and the monks set out in search of the culprits who, as one would expect in a Rutebeuf narration, are betrayed by a Beguine, giving the 245 jongleur an opportunity to comment on the order. Charges are pressed by the aggrieved parties, the couple apprehended and returned home to stand trial. The sacristan is the first to appeal to the Virgin (see p. 233 above) adding these last desperate lines to W. 489-506: Dame, je vous ai tant servi, 508 Se ce pert que j'ai deservi, Ci avra trap grant cruauté. Virge plaine de Ieauté Par to pitié de ci nous oste : 512 Ci a mal ostel et mal oste." (2, p. 228). Rutebeuf seems to derive his finest poetic inSpiration from the Virgin, as we have seen in the Marion literature, and the lady's appeal in the Sacristain is no excep- tion: Virge pucele, Virge dame, Qui est saluz de cars at d'ame, Secor ton serf, secor to serve, 520 Cu ci a pereilleuse verve. Pars de salu, voie de mer, Que toz Ii siecles doit amer Quar regarde ceste forfete 524 Qui de t'aide a grant saufrete. (2, p. 228). The two prayers are the climax of the miracle. Our Lady heeds the appeal and acts, forcing the devils to repair the evil they had done by freeing the couple from prison, and returning the stolen treasure so that everything was as before. Both the husband and the abbot think they are confused by phantoms when the wife and the sacristan are returned to them, but a visit to the prison clarifies the situation which ends on a happy note. The husband now knows that his wife has been faithful and he is not "sire Ernous" (v. 639) and the abbot has his money and his sacristan. At the beginning of this section, I referred to the Sacristain aS a pot- 246 pourri. The primary intent is dramatic. A series of scenes follow each other in natural sequence, peopled by a sizeable cast who reveal themselves in credible dialogue, true to the cadence of everyday conversation and the personality of the Speaker. Action is Iively--the interior monologue of the lady, the confronta- tion of the lovers, the appropriation of the treasure, the flight, the discovery, the pursuit, the imprisonment, the prayers, the deliverance--all provide the jongleur ample range for his histrionic talent. Rutebeuf has succeeded in fashioning an entertaining performance piece built around the narrator rather than the subject matter. While he emerges as a master of his craft, the dramatic effectiveness of the miracle is lessened by a multiplicity of tone which leaves the audience unsure as to their expected reaction. There is neither clown nor Oedipus to furnish a clue, only a jumble of apposed extremes--gaiety-piety, satire-sublimity, distance- involvement. One wonders for what occasion Benoit commissioned the piece, and if he felt he got his money's worth. 3. Le Miracle de Théophile Much has been written about Rutebeuf's drama--perhaps the best known of his poetical works--but it is only within the last ten years that critics have begun to view it in the proper perspective, as a phenomenon of the 13th century. It could have been written at no other time. In theme, in tone, in implementation, it mirrors the mimetic drive of a public to concretize in physical form and Symbol the struggle for eternal life, a public who fervently relied on the intercession of the Virgin and the saints to pave the way to Paradise. In Speaking of the Mariage Rutebeuf, Jubinal ventured the opinion that doubtless the poet had written it after his Miracle de Théophile and possibly 247 “plusieurs autres pieces du méme genre qui ne nous sont pas parvenues." 3 There is no evidence to support or deny this contention, but the Miracle remains the only known example of Rutebeuf as dramatist, and it is consonant with our defini- tion of a play (see p. 35 above). Recent criticism has fairly well conceded that the play was intended for mimetic representation and certainly the mnemonic rhyme and prose stage direc- tions attest to its dramatic form (see F88, 2, p. 171). Yet as late as 1954, Grace Frank, while acknowledging that these and the Te Deum at the end of the play "mark it as a true piece de théatre" goes on to say that "our play might also have served on occasion as a vehicle for recitation by its author, perhaps assisted by a companion. "4 She gives as her reasons the fact that no more than two characters appear on the stage at the same time, the "diSproportionately long role of Théo- phile (246 lines out of 663)" and the problem of the didascalies, a term applied to the stage directions scattered throughout the text indicating the scene changes, stage business, and the identity of the speaker. For example, the first one we en- counter is: lci vient Theaphiles a Salatin qui parloit au deable quant il valoit (2, p. 181). Mrs. Frank feels that this can hardly be intended for the actors, but must have been confided to the audience. Faral does not agree. Pointing out that when the stage directions introduce a new scene they indicate the Speaker, he iS of 3Achille Jubinal, Oeuvres completes de Rutebeuf, trouvere du XIIIe siecle (Paris: P. Daffis, 1874-75), p. 1T, n 1. 4Grace Frank, The Medieval French Drama (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1954), pp. III-12. 248 the opinion that the didascalies "par la S'avere que les indications en prose ant la mame destination que les noms placés en tete des répliques. "5 In his view, then, the stage directions confirm the intent of mimetic characterization. There remains, however, the question as to why such information as "who used to Speak to the devil whenever he wished" is included if they are intended merely as stage directions. Joselynne Reed accepts Sepet's explanation "que Rutebeuf a suivi ici une source maintenant incannue."6 I believe that a detailed consideration of the structure of the play, assessing the role of the didascalies in terms of action and spectacle will yield another possible answer to the problem. The 13th century manuscript would indicate that Rutebeuf did not number his scenes, but treated the play as a poetic whole, with only the dialogue and stage directions to guide the sequence of the action. It is taking a liberty to do so for him. Yet the inner coherence of the plot becomes much more apparent if these divisions are made. Gustave Cohen's transposition of the Miracle into modern French separates the text into 18 scenes, according to the incidence of 7 In terms of plot and versification, however, the play divides itself didascalies. rather distinctly into two acts, the first having 12 scenes, the second, six, with a lapse of seven years between them. These initial 12 scenes are the mimetically portrayed steps in Théophile's 5Edmond Faral, "Quelques remarques sur le Miracle de Théophile de Rutebeuf", Romania, LXXII (1951), 190. 6Joselynne Reed, " Le Miracle de Théophile de Rutebeuf", Bulletin des Jeunes Romanistes (1965) nos. 11-17, H, 7Gustave Cohen, Le Miracle de Théophile (Paris : Librairie Delagrave, 1934). 249 descent to perdition, forming the first half of what Joselynne Reed rightly sees as the "theme central de tentation, chute, repentir et rédemption" (p. 39). They are detailed below in terms of form, characters, versification and didascalies. SCENE Be tween Be twee n ACT ONE -- Temptation and Fall VERS ES FORM CHARACTERS VERS IF ICATIO N 1 - 43 Monologue Théophile Octosyllabic rhyming couplets 43- 44 Didascalie: Ici vient Theaphiles a Salatin qui parloit au deable quant il valoit So far as is known, "Salatin" is a name Rutebeuf invented to designate the "Jew" of earlier versions. It is for this reason, I think, that Rutebeuf felt im- pelled to clarify the identity of Salatin as the man "who used to Speak to the devil whenever he wished". Viewed in this light, the didascalie would seem to be intended for the actors, having the dual function of announcing the characters who take part in the ensuing scene and indicating the movement of the action from stage center, where Theaphile undoubt- edly stood at the start of the play, to stage left, the "mansion" of Salatin. Let us note that the audience is not yet aware of the identity of the speaker, although the actors know it must be Salatin because of verse 44 : Qu'est-ce ? qu'avez vous, Theophile ? 44-100 Dialogue Salatin Octosyl Iabic Théophile rhyming couplets 47-48 Didascal ie: Theophile parole SCENE Be tween Be tween Be tween Between 250 VERSES FORM CHARACTERS VERSIFICATIO N It is obviously for the sake of the actors that Rute- beuf indicates the next speaker "Theophile parole" and for the sake of the audience that Theophile makes the first mention of his interlocutor's name: S'en sui plus dalenz, Salatin (v. 51) 61 -62 Didascalie: Ici parole Salatins: Again this is intended for the actors and the pattern for the dialogue having been established the Speakers are indicated alternately to the end of the scene in normal dramatic fashion. 100-01 Didascal ie: Or so depart Theaphiles de Salatin et Si pense que trap a gant chose en Dieu renoier et dist: Once more the stage direction indicates the movement of the action from Salatin's mansion back to stage cen- ter, and further alerts the actor to the tone of the en- suing speech. "Théophile realizes what a grave Sin it is to renounce God, " says Rutebeuf, "acquit yourself accordingly of the next lines." 101 -43 Monologue Théophile Tercet coué 143-44 Didascalie: Ici parole Salatins au deable et dist : This direction indicates that Théophile remains stage center, the scene of his monologue, and that the ac- tion now reverts to Salatin, who "Speaks" to an invis- ible devil. 144-59 Monologue Salatin Tercet coué 159-60 Didascalie: Ci conjure Salatins Ie deable. SCENE 251 VERSES FORM C HARACTERS VERSIFICATIO N The purpose of this direction is to indicate move- ment from Salatin's mansion to extreme stage left, representing the "hole" in the ground leading to Hell. Arrived at the devil's abode, Salatin in- vokes him. 160-68 Incantation Salatin Tercet coué Be tween 168-69 Didascalie: Between Between Or vient Ii Deables qui est conjuré et dist : Here is the cue for the devil to emerge from his hole and begin his speech, at the startof Scene 5. 169-203 Dialogue Li Deables Tercet coué Salatin 203-04 Didascalie: Or revient Theaphiles a Salatin This indicates three simultaneous actions on the part of the actors. The devil retreats to his hole. Salatin goes home. Theaphile comes to Salatin's house. It also serves to alert the actors that Théophile is the first Speaker in the scene. 204-29 Dialogue Théo phi le Tercet coué Salatin 229-30 Didascal ie: Ici va Theaphiles au deables ; si a trap grant poor et li Deables Ii dist : Once again the directions are clearly intended to describe the movement of the action as Théophile leaves Salatin's house to go to the devil. This is Symbolic movement as well, for Théophile has be- gun at stage center, ventured left to Salatin, then back to stage center, indicating his hesitation be- cause "trop a grant chose en Dieu renoier". Then SCENE Between 252 VERSES FORM CHARACTERS VERS IFICATION he takes his irrevocable steps left to Salatin, and extreme left to the gates of Hell. Scene ‘7 finds him at the climax of the first act, when, albeit with "too great fear", he separates himself from God (extreme right stage) and re- nounces salvation. It appears likely that the words "a trap grant poor" are also intended as an instruction to the actor in approaching the devil, so that the devil's first lines: Venez avant, passez grant pas (v. 230). will be meaningful to the audience in terms of the obviously demonstrated fear portrayed by the actor in confronting the devil, who is the first to Speak. 230-87 Dialogue Li Deables Octosyllabic Theaphile rhyming couplets 239-40 It is interesting to observe that the stage directions for the act of ham- age are implicit in the devil's lines: Or joing Tes mains, et Si devien mes hon : 255-56 Didasca 1 ie: Or baille Theaphiles les Iettres au deable, et Ii Deables Ii commande a ouvrer ainsi: These instructions are obviously actor-oriented, and . the person playing the Devil's role is apprised of the solemnity of tone to be conveyed in his "sermon a rebours" to Theaphile (vv. 256-284) which follows the didascalie. In my view, the purpose of the words "Ii Deables Ii commande a ouvrer ainsi" is intended as guidance for the actor's rendition of the ensuing lines, and not, as has been suggested, a narrated interlude for audience edification. SCENE Between Between Between 253 VERSES FORM CHARACTERS VERSIFICATION 287-88 Didascalie: Or envoie l'Evesque querre Theophile. This is intended to trigger three stage movements. At the end of Scene 7, the Devil descends to his lair, Theophile starts slowly towards stage center, the BishOp appears and sends Pinceguerre to seek Théaphile. It also indicates to the actors that the first speech belongs to the Bishop. 288-95 Dialogue I 'Evesque Octosyl labic Pinceguerre rhyming couplets It is through the dialogue that follows that the audience is made aware of the identity of the Speakers. In the first line the Bishop addresses Pinceguerre by name and gives him his instruc- tions (vv . 288-294). 294-95 Didascal ie: Or parole Pinceguerre a Theophile et Theaphiles respont: Here again stage movement is indicated as Pince- guerre leaves the Bishop's house (right off-center) and starts (left) for Théophile's house where they encounter each other, Théophile having just re- turned from extreme left. It also announces the sequence of speakers for the four half-lines which introduce Scene 9, after which the speakers are clearly set forth till the end of the scene. 296-319 Dialogue Pinceguerre Octosyllabic Théophile rhyming couplets 319-20 Didascalie : Or se lieve l'Evesque contre Theophile et li rent so dignité et dist : SCENE 10 Be tween 11 Between 12 254 VERSES FORM CHARACTERS VERSIFICATION This direction moves the action further stage right to the Bishop's house for the scene with Theaphile The words "Ii rent sa dignité" are meant to identi- fy the scene for the actors. The Bishop appears three times during the course of the play. "This is the Speech, " says Rutebeuf, "in which he makes restitution to Théophile. 320-45 Dialogue l'Evesque Octosyl labic Théophile rhyming couplets 345-46 Didascalie: Ici va Theaphiles a ses compaignons tencier premierement a un qui avait non Pierres : Action moves stage center as Théophile leaves the Bishop's house, encountering Peter on his way home. Its purpose is also to alert the actors that of the two companions Peter is the first to be quarreled with. The audience is able to identify the speaker by the first word in the next verse (346). 346-65 Dialogue Théo phile Octosyl labic Pierre rhyming couplets 365-66 Didascalie: Or tence Theaphiles a un autre The beginning verse of the next scene identifies the "other" for the audience. Since the cast knows the two companions are Peter and Thomas, and Peter has already spoken, the author has no need to name the second. Action is moved to- wards stage center for the encounter with Thomas. 366-83 Dialogue Théophile Octosyllabic Thomas rhyming couplets The scene ends as Thomas stalks away and Théo- phile is left alone, stage center, muttering after him, "You'll rue this day '." 255 With Scene 12 the first act of the play ends. Both plot and versification justify a division here. We have a coherent dramatic progession, starting with Theaphile alone, stage center, desperate and destitute, culminating in his pact with the Devil (Scene 7), leading to the dénouement (Scenes 8-12) as all is re- stored to him, and he is embarked on seven years of evil service. When the scene ends, Théophile is at the height of his worldly triumph, again alone, stage center, where he began. That Rutebeuf himself sensed this division iS borne out by the versification. For the first twelve scenes, he makes use of only two verse forms, which parallel the movement of the plot. Scenes 1 and 2, though mimetically portrayed, are essentially narrative in nature in that the motivation for Théophile's fall from grace must be established before the action itself begins. They might be viewed as an introduction to the action. The octosyllabic rhyming couplet has been recognized as the narrative verse form. With Scene 3, Rutebeuf Switches to the tercet coué which mimicks the intonation and breath groups of Spoken cadence. It is first used for Théophile's monologue (which may be accounted a dialogue with the audience) and persists through Salatin's conversation with the Devil and his conversation with Théophile until the climax scene which regains the narra- tive quality. Théophile's second monologue and Salatin's conjuration of the devil are Rutebeuf deviations from the Gautier de Coincy poem, in which they do not appear (see Reed, p. 38). We might think of them as "imagined" scenes, dialogue which would carry the rhythm of normal conversation, and prevail until the solemn moment of the confrontation with the Devil, when the poet would re- vert to the octosyllabic couplets of narration, sustaining them to the end of Act 1. 256 The ensuing scenes are again mimetic narrative in that, through Théophile's in- teraction with the other characters, we observe the amelioration of his worldly position and the degeneration of his soul. He has chosen rewards on earth instead of rewards in Paradise, and the gravity of this choice is reflected in the change of meter. The use of the octosyllabic couplet ends with Scene 12. It does not recur in Act 2, as does the tercet coué.8 There is a unity of plot and versification in the first twelve scenes, which begin and end with both Theaphile and the rhyming couplets. From the standpoint of time lapse as well--seven years between Théo- phile's sin and his repentance--Scene 12 appears to be a logical ending for Act 1. ACT TWO -- Repentance and Redemption SCENE VERSES FORM CHARACTERS VERSIFICATION Between 383-84 Didascalie: Ici se repent Theaphiles et vient a une chapele de Nostre Dame et dist: The didascalies in Act 2 are all obvious stage di- rections intended to identify the scene and govern the actors' movement to the appropriate mansions. Unless there is some particular comment to be made, therefore, I shall Simply cite them. 1 383-431 Monologue Théophi Ie Duodecasyl labic quatrains based on same rhyme. 8In her edition of the Miracle de Théophile, Grace Frank points out that the tercet coué is "destinée a étre tres employee plus tard dans les pieces drama- tiques", notably the Passion du Palatinus and the Passions of Semur and Greban (p. xx). This is probabfy because of the verse form's evocation of spoken cadence. SCENE Behween Between Between Behween 257 VERS ES FORM C HARAC TERS Théophile bemoans his rashness in denying God and repents. The time lapse is indicated in v. 404 : Sathan, plus de set anz ai tenu ton sentier ; 431 -32 Didascal ie: C'est la proiere que Theaphiles dist devent Nostre Dame 432-539 Prayer Théophi Ie 539-40 Didascalie: Ici parole Nostre Dame a Theophile et dist: We can imagine a two-story mansion, with Théophile stage level and Our Lady on a balcony above him. The direction serves as a cue for her to appear. 540-72 Dialogue Nostre Dame Théophi le 572-73 D idascal ie: Ici va Nostre Dame par la chartre Theophile The action moves extreme stage left to the devils' hole. 573-85 Dialogue Nostre Dame Sathan 585-86 Didascal ie: Ici aparte Nostre Dame Ia chartre a Theophile From here to the end of the act, the action will move progressively stage right, ending at the Bishop's mansion. VERSIFICATION Hexasyllabic 12- line stanzas, rhym- ing: aab aab bba bba Tercet coué Tercet coué 258 SCENE VERSES FORM C HARACTERS VERSIFICATIO N 4 586-601 Dialogue Nostre Dame Tercet coué Théo phile Between 601 -02 Didascalie: Ici vient Theaphiles a l'evesque, et Ii baille sa chartre, et dist : 5 603-31 Monologue Théophi le Tercet coué l'Evesque Although Théophile addresses the Bishop, the BishOp merely listens and says nothing, so that in effect this speech is a monologue. Between 631 -32 Didascalie: Ici list l'Evesque la chartre et dist: 6 632-63 Monologue l'Evesque Tercet coué Théophile (W. 63239). (a crowd) Duode casyl labi c Here again the effect is a monologue since quatrains based the Bishop addresses the assemblage. on some rhyme (w. 640-55). variant of the tercet coué aab bbbc c (w. 656-63). There is a unity of plot and versification to be discerned in Act 2 as well. It begins and ends with the duodecasyllabic quatrain verse form, each stanza based on a single rhyme, and the content of the first scene and the last for which this meter is used is, in both cases, a confession. Scene 1 begins with Théophile's repentance and Scene 6 ends with his penance-~that the story be told before the Bishop and the people. The prayer to the Virgin is hexasyllabic 12-line stanzas, 259 reminiscent of the heptasyllabic five lines of the 8-line stanzas in C'est de Notre Dame (see p. 143 above), except that the rhyme scheme is the same as the acto- syllabic-strophic monologues discussed in Chapter 5 (see p. 185 above). I noted the "hammering" effect of the heptasyllabic line in C'est de Notre Dame, and its affinity with the "mea culpa" chest thumping. This is true of the prayer in the Miracle also, in these lines, for example: 516 En vilté, en ordure, En vie trap obscure Ai esté lonc termine : (2, p. 198). Significantly, scenes 2 through the opening lines of 6, are all in the tercet coué representing dialogue between Our Lady and Théophile, Our Lady and Satan, Theaphile and the Bishop, and the Bishop and the populace. After the Bishop has read the "chartre" aloud, Rutebeuf reverts to a variant of the tercet coué, as the closing remarks are made and the Bishop invites the crowd to join in the Te Deum Iaudamus. I believe that this breakdown demonstrates that the didascalies are unques- tionably stage directions, as Faral has maintained, included to guide the sequence of scenes, the stage action, and even the interpretation of roles as in the case of "Si a trap grant poor". There is no doubt, therefore, of the author's mimetic in- tent, and we would expect to find in the Miracle all of the dramatic elements de- fined in Chapter 1. TO N E There are those who discern comic intent in the Miracle, but I am unable to distinguish any. It seems to me that the tone is consistently serious. Indeed, a strong case might be made for tragic elements. By "tragic" I intend having the e ~ I ,-,. ,.,_ .,, . . ‘_ a. V- f 1'. 3‘ f“ '15)“ ' I: I I _ “5'" 5 I ,\ I: :Irfllw ' .-'o ‘(’V¢ 4' ‘ ., .A‘. r. .cclmorna-., . . ft: 13911.”. .-I ~ . I"_ l-Nfl" or. LII not” 01 R. I ’1! H t L. at‘naac « r " we.“ eucalonl: , , r . ‘cgr-t‘zta ert! w- ,. f . II . q '1. ' ‘ Ht: ‘1 “(ID "91! - - "’ .v- I. It . : It‘nr'nbcmem: :1. ‘ ,. 0 ' ‘. . L 1 .. '.‘nrxu . -r z ~.»7.°,i"‘.‘.orltov0 m , l , f ~:;ir:yttr.. EL I'm-‘- an (analtoetib . . j . . 5.1.. r ' I -- »--. ..: ea Ir. r r.r.:c1".r;1"‘.m ‘. n'w‘ In: ,ncrtso ego“ t m ‘I.'1in z 1: 4 :r w . c ,Mctmarlt and: or; .23 °1rsrtT ."1ooq 1 5 0“ ob care. are ritrmmc 5'le 1r Ila siomitx'. srlt ni :r it ct trsqxe blow, ' A ._,.,9 I .t amor oldonu rro I tuo‘ ,elscfiM ertt ni tnemi oimoo mesaib adrenalin 7 o O O . 260 characteristics normally associated with tragedy, not tragedy itself. I am in firm accord with Gerald Else that Greek tragedy was a phenomenon of a particular era, cogent to the stings of a particular people, and not "a fashionable genre. . .the highest and somehow the 'truest' literary genre" (see p. 40 above). In the some way, I believe with Young that medieval liturgical drama was a like phenomenon and that both had their source in the religious convention of their times. I would go so far as to state that, despite their Similarities, the two are antithetical be- cause of their prevailing religious conventions. "Seldom in Greek tragedy. . . " says Else, "is the stark face of death softened by any suggestion of survival, and then not in the sense of personal immortality. Except in men's memories and of- fections there is no life beyond the grave, no assurance of ultimate victory over our human condition" (p. 66). Yet if there were no ultimate victory, terrestrial triumph was possible. In keeping with its cult, Periclean tragedy exalted man, making him equal (or superior) to the gods, whereas medieval liturgical drama negated man and glorified the God who had given His only begotten Son so that man Should not perish but have life everlasting. This is precisely the Miracle's theme, an echo of the Psychomachian agon. Man is incapable of his own salvation, powerless to withstand the forces of evil unless God is on his side. It is not Théophile who triumphs over the Devil, but the Virgin. While admittedly Théophile is not a tragic hero, he may be said to satisfy certain aSpects of the Aristotelian definition of one: . . .a man who is not eminently good and just, yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty. He must be one who is highly renowned and proSperaus-- 261 a personage like Oedipus, Thyestes, or other illustrious men of such families (Poetics, p. 76). Before we meet Theaphile, he seems to have been "eminently good and just" and his misfortune (making a pact with the Devil) was not brought about by "vice or depravity" but by his feeling that God had abandoned him: Diex ? OTI '. qu'en a H a fere ? En autre lieu l'escovient trere ; Qu'il me fet l'areille sorde 16 Qu'il n'a cure de ma falorde. (2, p. 180). Can we discern a tragic flaw (hamartia) when, in retaliation, he abandons God, and is guilty of "orgueil" (hubris) ? Salatin tells us twice that Théophile was "highly renowned and prosperous": 151 Qu'il a esté molt grant preudon '. (2, p. 184). Molt a esté de grant renon I86 En ceste terre. (2, p. 186). though he was far from an Oedipus "or other illustrious men" of noble birth. An in voluntary Sinner, conspired against by the gods who forged his destiny, Oedipus erred through ignorance, yet gauged out both his eyes to blot out the horror of un- witting guilt. Many a lesser man would have made excuses for himself. Oedipus has our admiration and our pity. According to Aristotle, "pity is aroused by un- merited misfortune, fear by the misfortune of a man like ourselves" (Pam—Lics, p. 76). There is no pity for Théophile, who was free to choose his own destiny. His sin was deliberate, his guilt acknowledged, yet our fear is mitigated when he escapes the consequences of his acts. If the seneschal of Silesia could sell his soul to the Devil and still be saved through confession, repentance and appeal to the Virgin, surely there is hope for us in our less heinous crimes. 262 God's triumph over Satan was a joyful experience for the medieval audi- ence and may be seen as the result of katharsis. This is a term that has raised much controversy among the experts and elicited various interpretations, but I use it here in the sense of Olson's explanation of it as an adjunct of "proper con- struction of plot" (My, p. 34). If the imitation of a "fearful and pitiful action" is properly made, it may give pleasure, Olson tells us, pointing out that pleasure may be construed as "the removal of something painful". Further, it is consonant with Butcher's understanding of the term: "The tragic katharsis requires that suffering shall be exhibited in one of its comprehensive aspects; that the deeds and fortunes of the actors shall attach themselves to larger issues, and the spectator himself be lifted above the Special case and brought face to face with universal law and the divine plan of the world."9 To be sure, it may also be in- terpreted in the Freudian sense of purgation. The audience, participating in Théophile's confession, repentance and prayer, is relieved of its fear as Théophile is relieved of his bondage to Satan. The Miracle resembles Greek tragedy also in its economy of scene and character and its portrayal of universal truth in terms of a particular conflict. It has the ritual aspect of a parable. Theaphile is representative man, forsaken by God, tempted by the Devil, succumbing, repenting, praying, and saved from the pains of Hell to do penance for his sins, for Justice must be served. While Sin cannot go unpunished, it may be forgiven. That is Christianity's answer to the 9S. H. Butcher, "The Function of Tragedy" an essay appended to Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and FingArt 4th ed. (New York : Dover Publications, Inc., 1951), p. 2%. 263 Erinnyes. And the play ends with the victory of the Mother of God (and, by ex- tension, the Mother of Mankind, and, by further extension, the Mother Church) over the forces of evil. Aside from its elements in common with the Greek theater, the play is similar in theme and lexicon to the poems of serious intent discussed in preceding chapters and, like them, its purpose is to edify and instruct, albeit mimetically rather than rhetorically. P L O T There are many versions of the Theophilus legend. As we have already seen (p. 145 above), in the 9th century Paul the Deacon based his Latin account of the Greek texts of Sophronias and Eutychianos, and Fulbert of Chartres' a- bridged Latin version of Paul's Theophilus became the authorized text for the feast of the Nativity (F8-B, 2, p. 174). Yet the principal source for Rutebeuf's Miracle is Gautier de Coincy's poem, almost half of which is in direct discourse. Joselynne Reed has analyzed the two 13th century versions Side by side (pp. 38-39), demonstrating how closely Rutebeuf adheres to the De Coincy poem and wherein he departs from it. Eschewing the prologue and the introduction, Rutebeuf starts with Théo- phile's monologue, a fact which led Plenzat and Cohen to suggest that the manu- script is incamplete. On the other hand, Grace Frank and F8.B feel that Rutebeuf deliberately began with the monologue, Since the story was sufficiently familiar for him to do so with impunity. I am persuaded of this latter view, but not entirely for that reason. Aside from omitting the prologue and introduction, Rutebeuf sup- presses six other "scenes" from the De Coincy narrative as well as the moralizing 264 conclusion containing a eulogy of the Virgin and the lesson of humility. In ad- dition, he adds three scenes which do not appear in De Coincy. A consideration of these Sheds some interesting light on Rutebeuf as a dramatist, as Joselynne Reed points out. De Coincy was writing a prose tale of moralizing intent of which prologue, introduction, eulogy and moral were intrinsic parts. Rutebeuf was writing a the- atrical presentation with intent to portray rather than describe. The information in the prologue-introduction, therefore, is included as a flashback in Théophile's monologue where the story is told with a remarkable paucity of detail. Since the whole play as Rutebeuf conceived and executed it was a eulogy to the Virgin, that, too, could be dispensed with. AS for the moral, it is salvation and not humility that is the burden of the poet's message, clearly indicated in the closing lines of the play: 656 Issi auvra icil preudom. Delivré I'a tout a bandon La Dieu ancele. 659 Marie, Ia virge pucele, Delivré I'a de tel querele. Chantons tuit par ceste novele. (2, p. 203). Viewed in this light, the omissions and additions make dramatic sense. Salvation iS the climax, penance the dénouement of the plot. Anything after the reading cloud of the Devil's letter would be anti-climactic. Because Théo- phile's death three days later had no bearing on the Sin-Confession-Repentance- Redemption cycle, its inclusion would destroy the coherence of the drama's action and Rutebeuf omitted it. Consonant with the bland disregard of time and Space in the 13th century 265 discussed in Chapter 2 (p. 54 above), the only time indication in the play is the seven-year lapse between Sin and repentance, essential to the movement of the plot. Aside from that, neither time, nor place, nor motivation is important. What counts is the action itself, as Auerbach has perceptively stated with respect to medieval drama: . . . Nor is there any basis for concern with the unities of time, place, or action, for there is but one place--the world; and but one action--man's fall and redemption. "'0 De Coincy, writing a plausible narrative, is concerned with motivation and veri- similitude. Rutebeuf is not. He will delete whatever detracts from the unity of his play or lessens its dramatic impact. What matter if legend decrees that forty days must elapse between Théophile's prayer to the Virgin and her response, or that it must take three days for her to offer a pardon ? Indeed, is this not incon- sistent with the Virgin who, as De Coincy has Shown three scenes earlier, peti- tioned her Son to open Théophile's eyes? And how much stronger dramatically is Rutebeuf's portrayal of Nostre Dame's righteous indignation at being petitioned by so flagrant a flouter of God's covenant '. So much for the deletions. What of the innovations ? To fullfil the role of the Jew, he created Salatin and there is no indication whatever that Salatin is a Jew, though many critics, Cohen included, persist in regarding him as one. Traditionally, the role called for a Jew, for was it not unthinkable that o Chris- tian would willingly traffic with the Evil One? The deputy devil's petulant re- ply to Salatin as he is taking his leave iS cited to bolster this identification of 'oErich Auerbach, Mimesis (New York: Doubleday 8. Company, Inc., 1957), p. 138. 266 Salatin as a Jew: Ne me traveillier més des mais, 202 Va, Salatin, Ne en ebrieu ne an latin '. (2, p. 186). There are also those who discern a Hebraic syllable and cadence in the conjuration. This is another Rutebeuf innovation, since the scene does not appear in Gautier de Coincy. Rutebeuf greatly diminished the role of the Jew in his Miracle, as Jose- Iynne Reed's summary shows: . . .non seulement il amene Ia victime a la fete des diables, mais aussi, apres Ie rétablissement de Théophile dons ses fonctions, le Juif revoit fréquemment le pauvre Chrétien déchu (G 463) et I'en- courage dons sa course au Mal, Iui promettant de lo faire pope (G. 470) s'il cele leur affaire (p. 39). But the name "Salatin" as F&B point out is close to "Saracen" and it is a Saracen deity, "Cahu" that Théophile mentions: Bien sera m'ame devoree, Qu'en enfer fera demoree 566 Avoec Cahu. (2, p. 200). which leads F8.B to Speculate further that "11 semblerait donc que Rutebeuf ait eu l'eSprit occupé par l'idée de la mécréance sarrasine. . . l'on pourrait supposer qu'il écrivait en un moment 00 redoublait en Occident I'inquiétude causée par les menaces et la détestation deS ennemis de I'Eglise : or tel était bien le caS en 1261" (2, p. 175). In his prayer to the Virgin, Théophile also refers to Tantalus : 477 Car qu'avoec Tentalu En enfer le jalu Ne praingne m'erité (2, p. 197). Does this imply that Salatin was a pagan ? Another innovation is the signing of the pact in blood, which has Since formed an intrinsic part of the Faust legend. Why blood? Because, as the Devil 267 says in his public letter at the end of the play: 653 De son sanc les escrist (autre enque n'i fist metre) (2, p. 202). and indeed what ink is fit to Sign away one's soul, except the symbolic blood- brother rite? Théophile's second monologue (W. 101-43) does not appear in Gautier De Coincy's version either. It gives Rutebeuf an opportunity to portray the human quality of "second thoughts". Surely a man about to take so irrevocable a step would have misgivings. It also gives the poet an occasion to pictorialize Hell: Que fera ma chetive d'ame ? Ele sera arse en la flame 110 D'enfer le noir. La la covendra remanoir : Ci avra trap hideus manoir, 113 Ce n'est pas fable. En cele flambe pardurable N'i a nule gent amiable, Aingois sont mal, qu'ils sont deable : 117 C'est Ior nature ; Et Ior mesons rest Si obscure C'on n'i verra ja soleil luire, Ainz est uns puis toz plains d'ordure. 121 La irai gié '. (2, p. 183). and points up Théophile's freedom of choice and the awesomeness of his defection. In full knowledge of what is in store for him (unlike Marlowe's Doctor Faustus who refuses to credit the reality of hell despite Mephistopheles' assurances) Théo- phile lets his anger against God persuade him to arrogant defiance : 132 Je le ferai '. Diez m'a grevé : jel greverai, Ja més jar no le servirai 1 135 Je li ennui : (2, p. 184). The effect of such bIaSphemy on a 13th century audience must have been blood- curdling. 268 There remains the puzzle of the pact. Fulbert of Chartres has the Bishop consign it to the flames : Jam vero ut rem brevi fine concludamus, episcopo jubente male cautum chirographum Theophilus igne cremavit (F88, 2, p. 177). as does Gautier de Coincy. De Coincy makes mention (as does Fulbert in connec- tion, however, with the life of St. Basil) of the Devil's insistence on a written "charte" in addition to the act of homage, since the word of a Christian is not to be trusted (vv. 391-406). This precaution an the part of the Devil is also included in the Rutebeuf version: Saches de voir qu'il te covient De toi ai Iettres pendanz Bien dites et bien entendanz ; 252 Quar maintes genz m'en ant sorpris Par ce que Ior Iettres n'en pris. Par ce les vueil avoir bien dites. (2, p. 188). In this scene between the Devil and Theaphile there iS no mention of a charte however, only the letters, referred to in Théophile's reply to Satan: 255 Vez les ci : je les ai escrites. (2, p. 188). and the didascalie "Or baille Theaphiles les Iettres au deable. . ." and no indication that these were signed in blood, until verse 653 cited above. Yet in Théophile's repentance monologue, reference is made to it : 390 De moi a pris la chartre et le brief recall (2, p. 194). It appears again the Speech of Nostre Dame, when she announces the pardon : 570 To chartre te ferai ravoir Que tu baillas par nonsavoir. (2, p. 200). in the encounter with Sathan: 577 Rent la chartre que du clerc as (2, p. 200). 269 and in the didascalie following this encounter : "Ici aparte Nostre Dame la chartre a Theophile". It recurs twice in the Virgin's Speech to Théophile: 586 Amis, ta chartre te raport. 590 Va a l'evesque et plus n'atant ; De la chartre Ii fai present (2, p. 200). and in the didascalies following this scene: Ici vient Theaphiles a l'evesque, et li baille sa chartre, et dist : and Ici list l'Evesque la chartre et dist : Yet the Bishop burns nothing, in the final scene, and reads what purports to be a letter from the Devil recounting the whole affair. F8.B conjecture that the poet might have substituted the public letter from the Devil for the sake of those in the audience who confused Spectacle with reality who, knowing that the ori- ginal "chartre" had been burned would construe its apperance as "une invraisem- blance au une fausseté" (2, p. 170). It is possible that Rutebeuf uses the word "chartre" loosely to indicate the letters Théophile Signed and handed to the Devil, far the real pact, according to medieval tradition, was the act of homage, a sol- emn oath sworn before God, and forever binding. The letters could only contain testimony that such an act had been performed, but certainly Rutebeuf leaves us in ignorance as to their fate. One might assume that, on retrieving them, the Virgin herself destroyed them, forcing her adversary, in his humiliation, to write a letter to the Bishop detailing the entire transaction. This would be a dramati- zation of her victory and the Devil's defeat. 270 C H A R A C T E R S I mentioned earlier the economy of characters in the play, and Aristotle's precept that Plot takes precedence over Character in tragedy (see p. 43 above). If we count the first devil conjured up by Salatin as a minion of Sathan's and not the Lord of Hell himself, there are only nine characters in the M, every one of whom furthers the dramatic action of the plot, and is subservient to it. Compared with the 20 characters in Bodel's Jeu de Saint Nicholas, in whichSaint Nicholas and his miracle seem merely to furnish an excuse for the lively dialogue and rich local color of the tavern scenes, Rutebeuf's play has the starkness of tra- gedy. In Marie I'Egjtptienne, the fabliaux, the Dit de l'Herberie, Rutebeuf has proven his ability at character delineation. He was therefore prefectly capable of providing "psychological motivation and continuity" as Mrs. Regalado main- tains he does not in the Miracle. She sees the play as "a series of didactic tab- leaux", likening it to the "narration" in a stained glass window or a sculpture (Poetic Patterns, p. 57). Yes, the Théophile sculptures of Notre Dame de Paris, and the stained-glass windows of the Sainte Chapelle are narrative, and the rea- son the Miracle resembles them is they all stem from the temperament of the times, which was the need to pictorialize the abstract in concrete images. The medieval mind perceived in symbol. Rutebeuf did not intend his characters to be flesh and blood individuals caught in a particular fiction. The realism of the Jeu de Saint Nicholas was not his goal. Pawns in the struggle between vice and virtue which will lead to the ultimate wonder of redemption, his characters are created for the 271 action, not the action for the characters. But they are not merely one-dimensional figures in a tableau, incarna- tions of abstract qualities, as in allegory. Rather, they are the reverse. In alle- gory, abstractions are endowed with human characteristics; here, human charac- ters are reduced to abstractions. The result is a moral portrait clothed in flesh. Théophile's words and actions reveal him as a vengeful man. God has abandoned him, he will abandon God : 137 Se il me het, je harrai Iui : (2, p. 184). He is also excessively self-centered. How can God do this to him? Where is God anyhow, that he will allow Theaphile to starve and be ragged, after all Theophile has done for Him? Ahi '. Ahi '. Diex, rois de gloire, Tant vous ai eii en memoire. Tout ai doné et despendu 4 Et tout ai aus povres tendu : (2, p. 179). We know that his troubles began when he was offered the bishopric and refused it, protesting his unworthiness, but his humility was more apparent than real, for when put to the test, his true arrogance manifests itself, even before the pact is signed: Tout a en main et ciel et terre : 141 Je Ii claim cuite. (2, p. 184). I do not think he was greedy, although Mrs. Regalado sees the moral of the Miracle as "a condemnation of such greed for worldly goods" (Poetic Patterns, p. 4). It seems to me that his desire for worldly possessions was a retaliation against God who had robbed him of them. "I'll have them in Spite of you," he promises (vv. 135-I43). So long as things were going well for Théophile, he was 272 benevolent. When disaster struck, he shed the veneer to Show the base metal beneath. No Job, he '. But in common with other Fausts it is power he wants, and when offered a bargain with Sathan, he Shows little imagination in his de- mands. Give him the creature comforts and the prestige to lord it over his fellows. An ordinary sort of man, Théophile, who discovered after seven years that what he thought he wanted was not what he wanted at all. Certainly, it was not worth the price he had paid. There iS a yearning in him not to die, a yearning so strong it will not be gainsaid. He knows that the way to eternal life is through confession, repentance and penance and while there is still time, this is the road he takes. Grace Frank makes a parallel between Theaphile and Rutebeuf, " in which, based on the personal lyrics, she Singles out a similarity of tone and con- tent--"emotional climate"--between the two. With respect to Rutebeuf, She finds it remarkable "how much of his own quarrel with fate finds an echo in the words of Théophile" (p. 161). I do not feel that these similarities are remarkable, Since to me they represent the universal problems of the I"poor, .naked and cold" whether through their own faults, as she suggests, or through the adversity of fate. The parallel she discerns simply intensifies for me the identification of Théophile with Everyman. Nor do I find it strange that "Theophilus, the religious, uses the some figures of Speech as Rutebeuf, the wandering minstrel" (p. 162), Since it is Rute- beuf, the wandering minstrel, who has written the lines. Further, the metaphors of a broken instrument or an unfortunate throw of the dice are common in our own time and used by many who are neither musicians nor gamblers. I do most "Grace Frank, "Rutebeuf and Théophile", The Romanic Review, XLII, No. 3 (1952), 161-65. 273 certainly agree with Mrs. Frank, however, that the emotional climate of the Miracle is echoed in the Marion, crusading and polemic poems which I have designated as of serious intent, and among which I do not class the Mariage or the Complainte. The character of Nostre Dame is ambivalent--at once Lady and Woman. Faced with portraying the Virgin in person, Rutebeuf is incapable of imagining her in other than very human terms. She is Woman--good woman, of course, but one of his contemporaries in language, accent and reaction. This becomes very apparent in the scenes where he is obliged to imagine her dialogue. Used to evok- ing her in prayer, in nobility of language, he refers to her as 432 Sainte ro'r'ne bele, Glorieuse pucele, Dame de grace plaine (2, p. 196). 555 Flors d'aiglentier et lis et rose (2, p. 199). 486 Torne ton douz visage : (2, p. 197). so that when She appears on the balcony to peer down at the intruder, we expect the soft compassionate words and dulcet tones of the Mother Mild. Instead, it is the medieval goodwife who calls, somewhat pettishly: 540 Qui es tu, va, qui vas par ci ? Again, it is not the Courtly Lady but the righteously indignant Woman who sends him packing: 552 Je n'ai cure do to favele. Va t'en is fors de ma chapele '. The purpose of this scene is to dramatize the fact that appeal to the Virgin does not at once bring forgiveness. But if prayer and penitance are sincere, eventually 274 Our Lady will listen. After Théophile petitions her again, She relents, and the language and accents revert to the tone of the Lady: Theophile, je t'ai seii Co on arriere a moi eii 569 Saches de voir, Ta chartre te ferai ravoir (2, p. 200). The next dialogue with Sathan is again imagined and the Woman takes an imperious tone with an underling : 573 Sathan '. Sathan '. es to en serre ? S'es or venuz en ceste terre 577 Rent la chartre que du clerc as, Quar tu as fet trap vilain cos. (2, p. 200). and when Sathan retorts that he'd sooner be hung, She makes a very unfeminine threat: 585 Et je te foulerai Ia pance I (2, p. 200)- We have come across this practice in Pet au vilain. Belly stomping was not only a punishment of painful proportions, but it was designed to force the soul from the body. This line is often cited as humorous, causing the relief of laughter in the audience. In my view, however, far from being funny to the 13th century mind, it was a fearsome threat and evidently was sufficient to intimidate the Devil who handed the "chartre" aver forthwith. Once more, Rutebeuf is on familiar ground and in the following scene the Virgin returns the pact to Théophile with Iadylike language and tonality. Doubtless, none of the Spectators was aware of this duality. As Auerbach has noted, ". . .there is no basis for a separation of the sublime from the low and everyday, for they are indissolubly connected in Christ's very life and suffering" 275 (p. 138). In this connection, a comparison of the reSpective roles of the Virgin and Saint Nicholas in these two 13th century miracles yields some points in com- mon. Both appear very briefly. St. Nicholas has a total of twenty-two lines, all in one scene (XXVII) ; the Virgin a total of twenty-eight in three scenes. Their tones are identical. Considering the benevolent nature of St. Nicholas, his language iS surprising: Maufaiteour, Dieu anemi Or sus '. Trap i avez dormi. he Shouts at Pincedés, and two lines later calls him a son of a bitch. Evidently, this was the kind of strong talk the audience expected of its saints. In a ritual drama, action and results are what count and Notre Dame was a quickly perceived symbol for the spectators, little more. According to Joselynne Reed, Salatin is second to Theaphile in importance, based on the number of lines Spoken, the number of scenes in which he appears, and the number of Speeches he is accorded (p. 47). While her breakdown is illumi- nating, I cannot agree that these factors indicate incidence of importance among the characters. Viewed in terms of Action as preponderant over character, which we have Shown in Chapter 1 (see p.43 above) as Simply one means of implementing action, there are three protagonists in the fall-redemption struggle: Nostre Dame, the victor, Théofirile, the victim, and Sathan, the villain. Salatin, in my view, plays an auxiliary role. Whether he is a Jew, a Saracen, or Simply a pagan, has little importance for us. He is the symbol of the go-between, the procurer who battens on human weakness. In himself, he is insignificant--a chameleon on plaid who takes on such coloring as suits the transaction of the moment. Yet he does Show 276 some distinguishable human traits. In dealing with the little devil he has conjured, Salatin insists on his rights, for he knows his livelihood depends on keeping this channel open: Qu'il n'est pas droiz que tu me failles Ne que tu encontre moi ailles 174 Quant je t'apel. He seeks credit for having unearthed a valuable prospect: 177 Un clerc avons De tel gaaing com nous avons : Soventes foiz nous en grevons 180 Par nostre afere and wants to be recognized as part of the organization he represents, use of the possessive adjective "nostre" in v. 180. He pretends Sympathy for his prey: 44 Qu'est-ce ? qu'avez vous, Theophile ? Par Ie grant Dé, quel mautalent Vous a fet estre Si dolent ? Vous saliiez Si joiant estre '. and flatters him: 62 Biaus Sire, vous dites que sages; 74 Comme ham qui est de Si grant pris Molt en estes mas et penssis. and quickly seizes the opening Théaphile gives him in the line 80 II n'est chose que je n'en face. (2, p. 185). (2 PP- 185-36). witness the (2, p. 181). (2, p. 181). (2, p. 182). (2, p. 182). to drive home his bargain, limiting his sales pitch only to the advantages to be gained therefrom, ignoring the drawbacks. Then, having set forth the terms of the transaction, he gives his personal assurance that this course of action is to his client's best interests: I . j. l .(L'FI .a .5. .atiort hound ”an? ~lttIl orlt dit” I. " ‘l'.lIL'V'il 85d brttVL-II ‘611 '7 I “I . _ ‘3 1'1 -‘ I t I. ("O . I I. II I ' ( I It’ .TIQM'I - I .4 A ., I I f v . 1' I II 'I ‘nx'fl t ;f r .. 7 III I . (\r z, ‘2 4 r c w v'~ 2» I- ‘6‘. 1:11: aumft ei1‘:v,1nmr, is :b I|>.' r r I 'n-rreaD .alazn‘io an '.rr‘ zmt n"1l(-M I'.‘ :"rzi: 'rlt nitrides-.19 “Ilrl’r 1’: pnmeqo edt .errft nah. ej 9(rp ezclo tze'n II \_.J .J a: motnmbo "II c‘. (Inc Jotiq zoloa zirl gnitimil ‘I’IIWH’ | 277 90 Creez moi, lessiez vostre mestre. Qu'en avez vous entalenté ? (2, p. 182). Let us note also that he uses the second-person plural with deference until the bar- gain has been agreed to, and the second-person Singular thereafter : Je t'ai basi Si bien ton plet Quanques teS sires t'a mesfet 208 T'amendera, (2, p. 186). Once the prospect has become a customer, there is no need for further politeness. Théophile may now be ordered about: Va t'en, que il t'atendent; passe 225 Grant aleiire. De Dieu reclamer n'aies cure. (2, p. 187). Salatin, having fulfilled his function, departs from the play. With Cohen, I recognize two devils--the deputy (Li Deables) conjured by Salatin's incantation, and the Lord of Hell himself. In the first place, Li Deables clearly refers to Sathan as a third person : 194 Molt avra bien de Iui merci Sathan et Ii autre nerci : (2, p. 186). and he would certainly not do so if referring to himself. Secondly, someone of Salatin's calibre would hardly be sufficiently important to reach the chief adminis- trator, in my view. I think if Rutebeuf had intended to identify him as THE Devil, he would have called him "Sathan". The deputy in some ways is more colorful than his master. He appears harried and overworked. His first words demonstrate this: Tu as bien dit ce qu'il i a : Cil qui t'aprist riens n'oublia. 171 Molt me travailles. (2, p. 185). ‘. .3. d .. I I 5‘ n ~ I .. um sen} ' .L LGIUO -‘ . . , £11 eeauerf I ' . ' . . .anpthI- IV 2, . In I A" I ‘.L' \l t r “end aor‘l QM L‘rl O 0“ Wm \ ' ImIIHM‘Q I .x ‘f‘. Inc C I .It‘ I .'£ " '2‘: (II. n . ' m me «who! II . II.- '1- ":I 1'1 ‘ ‘ ; I :t "u I :: frorlloa 0‘ :":'r- 21:1 " tv- r12: .lc‘M "I’m '1 f I‘ " t.C-'IID; :2 ob ion vlniot'lot r. -. I‘. .—~ _‘I :u‘iti Cf grti'fntrt' .45 tins rm: 1 -r~' ; a: innnoqmi vltrttnioi'dre no '(IITIDII blUOVI 3H1 er.- "1": gtltnehi o‘. bebnztr‘i 1506100135303 11 xnlr't I lul‘rclco U‘lC’" 21 zvow emoz rti vtuqeb eclT ."norfio?" mid bel - eto'nmomob etnow mi‘t zit! .bexwvwwvo boo Mined noeqqo DH 1, 278 Evidently, he resents being summoned away from his important duties to answer Salatin's call. This irritation recurs at the end of the scene when he de- mands to be treated with more reSpect and tells Salatin not to bother him again, either in Hebrew or in Latin: Or soiez vers moi plus cortois : Ne me traveillier més des mais, 202 Va, Salatin, Ne en ebrieu ne en latin '. (2, p. 186). It is difficult to discern Rutebeuf's purpose in this interchange, unless it be to indicate that business has prOSpered to such an extent that the minions of Hell have all they can do to keep up with the demand. Sathan is a far cry from his counterpart'in the Jeu d'Adam, reputedly writ- ten in the latter part of the 12th century. Though it is vastly entertaining and surprisingly sophisticated for its time, the Jeu d'Adam, in the same way as the Jeu de Saint Nicholas, emerges as a triumph of character over theme. Light- hearted tone, witty dialogue, and apt characterization detract from its serious purpose--the portrayal of the loss of terrestrial paradise by the bite of an apple. Yet Diabolus, tempter of Eve, is memorable as a subtle seducer, an expert in fe- male psychology, a brilliant tactician, indeed, a devil worthy of the name. Not so Sathan. Straightforward and businesslike, he wastes no time or rhetoric : Venez avant, passez grant pas. Gardez que ne resamblez pas 232 Vilain qui va a offerande. (2, p. l87). "Come along, " he says to the reluctant Théophile, "Take big steps. Don't hang back like a peasant supposed to make an offering to his lord." Instead of asking 279 "Do you believe in me ?" as tradition would have it, he asks, "Do you have need of me ?" and on being answered affirmatively, gets right down to the act of ham- age. Or ioing 240 Tes mains, et si devien mes hon : Je t'aiderai outre reson. (2, p. 188). Then he asks for the letters written in blood and, when they are handed over, gives Théophile his instructions in what Jod09ne refers to as a "sermon a rebours" (p. 220). It is not what Sathan says or does but what he stands for that is awesome. To the 13th century, he was real. Bloch reproduces a page taken from the psalter of Queen lngeburge, around 1200, showing the Devil as a bi-ped monster, with scaly skin, horns and a tail, receiving homage from Théophile (Feudal Society, p. 115). The sculpture of Notre Dame de Paris shows the Virgin, in crown and veil, aiming a cross-headed lance at a cowering gargoyle-faced creature, who holds the pact aloft in his right hand. However Sathan was portrayed in the Miracle, the spectators invested him with their own sense of fear and horror at the incarnation of Evil. It is a skin-prickling scene. Imagine this hideous beast standing before the hole of Hell from which smoke is curling skyward, towering over an erstwhile dignitary of the Church who kneels abiectly at his feet, places his hands within the scaly claws, long-pointed nails digging into his flesh, as he swears the sac- red oath of homage. Watch his hand tremble as he proffers the blood-signed le tters to his new lord, and listens to the loathsome commandments : 280 Li Deables 256 Theaphile, biaus douz amis Puis que tu t'es en mes mains mis, Je te dirai que tu feras. Ja més povre homme n'ameras. 260 Se povres hom sorpris te proie, Torne l'oreille, va ta voie. S'aucuns envers toi s'umelie, Respon orgueil et felonie. 264 Se povres demande a to porte, Si garde qu'aumosne n'en porte. Dougor, humilitez, pitiez Et charitez et amistiez 268 JeUne fere, penitance Me metent grant duel en la pance. Aumosne fere et Dieu proier Ce me repuet trop anoier. 272 Dieu amer et chastement vivre, Lors me samble serpent et guivre Me meniue le cuer el ventre. Quant l'en en la meson Dieu entre 27 6 Por regarder aucun malade, Lars ai le cuer si mort et fade Qu'il m'est avis que point n'en sente, Cil qui fet bien si me tormente. 280 Va t'en, tu seras seneschaus : Lai les biens et si fai les maus. Ne iugier ia bien en ta vie, Que tu feroies grant folie 284 Et si feroies contre moi. Théophi le Je ferai ce que fere doi. The Devil Theophilus, my fine sweet friend, Since thee thyself to me commend, Tell thee shall I what thou shalt do. The poor man henceforth shalt eschew. If, sore distressed, thy help he pray, Turn a deaf ear, and go thy way. To suppliants begging they goodwill, Reply with arrogance and ill. Take care the poor who seek thy door, Depart as empty as before. From gentleness, humility, Pity, friendship, charity Abstain thou. Repentance really Rails a great duel in my belly. To give alms, to pray God, and such Might well annoy me overmuch. To love God, and chastely choose Him, Seems a viper in my bosom Gnawing the vitals of my heart. Whenas in hOSpital thou art Regard not any sick there be, With e'en a whit of sympathy, Else in my heart death tolls a knell, He who does good torments me well. Begone, a steward for thy vows : Renounce all good, evil espouse. Judge iustly never in thy life, 'Twere folly to beget thee strife And it despites me to be iust. Théophile Yea shall I do what do I must. Superficially, one gets the impression that what is to be avoided at all costs is iniury to the Devil's heart and entrails, but a closer reading puts Sathan's speech into proper perspective. The Christian tenet was to avoid sin for fear of displeasing God; the Satanic document might be seen as the reverse--"Lai les biens et si fai les maus". What is pleasing to Sathan sums up what is displeasing to God, at least in the opinion of the poet. 281 It seems to me that this is a place in Rutebeuf's works where one might venture an interpretation of the poet's personal beliefs, as much in what he says as in what he omits. Jodogne sees Sathan's speech in this way, "C'est un sermon a rebours qui traduit bien ce que Rutebeuf concevait comme les prédominantes de la vie morale d'un pretre : l'humilité, Ia charité, la piété sans doute, mais aussi Ia pratique des mortifications" (p. 220). His first observation, in my view, is too narrowly interpreted. In terms of the universality of Rutebeuf's theme, it is not iust the life of a priest that he intends but the lives of all Christians. Further, I can find no iustification for “Ia pratique des mortifications" unless Jodogne is interpreting far more stringently than I the sense of "chastement vivre". I see the structure of Sathan's speech as having these possible Biblical sources: (1) vv. 259-265 Matthew 25:34-46. In particular, the verses cited below: 35 For I was an hungered and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: W. 275-78 36Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. 40Veri|y I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. (2) W. 266-67 Matthew f:3-11. The Beatitudes. In particular : 5 Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. 7 Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. Also, l Corinthians 13. In particular: 3And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned and have not charity it profiteth me nothing. 282 v. 268 Luke 13:3 3 I tell you, Nay: but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. v. 282 Romans, 1:17 The iust shall live by faith. (3)v. 272 Deuteronomy 5:6-11, and 18. The Ten Commandments. Perhaps the whole of the Ten Commandments is implied, although Rute- beuf specifically quotes the first three--"Dieu amer“ and the seventh--chaste- ment vivre". I do not believe that this last was intended only in connection with adultery, however, but more broadly to live in strict accord with God's command- ments. Yet no actual mention is made of keeping the sabbath, honoring parents, not killing, not stealing, not bearing false witness, or not coveting. One would have expected the Devil to include the positive version of these last in his com- mandments. Are these significant omissions ? It is hard to say. Sathan's Speech was not meant to be a complete recital of the Devil's creed, but rather the admoni- tion to "renounce all good", and in referring to Matthew 25, the Beatitudes and the Ten Commandments, Rutebeuf might well have felt that the parts suggested the whole. I would say that of the sources cited above the one most significant for Rutebeuf personally was Matthew 25:34-46. As has been seen in the poems of serious intent, frequent reference is made to the apposition "faire-dire" , and in the 28 lines of Sathan's sermon, the verb "faire" occurs seven times, and twice more in Théophile's response. I think, therefore, that we can safely assume that Ru tebeuf's ideal of Christian compartment was good works rather than words. 283 A case might equally be made for his belief in prayer and repentance, in view of their incidence not only among the poems of serious intent, but in the intensely personal lyric, Mort Rutebeuf. Also, I believe we can impute to him a strong sense of iustice, since his quarrel with Louis IX seems to have begun with the monarch's uniust treatment of Guillaume de Saint-Amour. Significantly, as well, Rutebeuf's Sathan does not play the role of tempter in this miracle, as he does in the Sacristain et la femme au chevalier. Can we see in this Rutebeuf's personal belief that it is man who chooses the road he takes, that the Devil is there to be courted and succumbed to, but it is not he who seeks out man, rather man who seeks him out? Is this perhaps echoed in the "mea culpa" beat and theme which recur in his writings? The four remaining characters clearly represent functions of the plot and have little in the way of personality. Moved like a chessman across the board, the Bishop appears in three scenes: first, to send Pincegueere in search of Théophile; second to restore Théophile to his former rank and remuneration; and third, to read the Devil's letter and lead the audience into the Te Deum. His gentle re- proach to Théophile when the latter describes how he will mistreat the people: 337 Théophile, ou entendez vous ? Biaus amis, penssez de bien fere. (2, p. 191). is simply in keeping with the rank he represents, for he is as much a symbol as his mitre. Pinceguerre, Pierre and Thomas were created by Rutebeuf to portray mime- tically the change in Théophile after his pact with the Devil. All of them wish him well, and are astonished at his behavior, incongruous with the man they thought they knew. He accuses the canons of spreading scandal about him and 284 consigns them all to the devil (w. 317-19). He is arrogant to Pinceguerre, threatens Pierre, and vows Thomas will rue the day he walked away from him. These are the scenes which forecast the life Theaphile will lead during the seven years between his fall and his redemption. DRAMATIC DEVICES 1. Dialogue : Fast-paced, colloquial, it ably evokes the character of the speaker, as has been pointed out. We have seen that Rutebeuf makes use mainly of the tercet coué form for its conversational cadence, but even in the octosyllabic rhyming couplets, he skillfully divides a line into two quadrisyllables, one per speaker, as in the following interchange between Pinceguerre and Théophile : 296 Que est ceenz ? --Et vous qui estes ? 297 --Je sui uns clers --Et ie sui prestres. (2, p. 190)- Consonant with 13th century dramatic practice, Rutebeuf also makes fairly consis- tent use of mnemonic rhyme, an ingenious prompter's device whereby the rhyme in the last line of one character's Speech is repeated in the first line of his inter- locutor's, for example: Théophile: Li perdres m'est honte et damages. Salatin: Biaus sire, vous dites que sages ; (2, p. 181). On hearing Théophile pronounce "damages", Salatin knows this is the cue for his reply. As F8B observe, in those instances where the mnemonic rhyme is lacking in the Miracle, it is because other factors render it unnecessary (2, p. 171). 285 2 . Aside : To be sure the audience understands it is the Devil's doing when Theo- phile hears the news from Pinceguerre that he is to be reinstated, Rutebeuf has him say-—perhaps to himself, perhaps to the audience-- 305 Deable i puissent part avoir 1 (2, p. 190). 3 . Dramatic Irony: Unable to fathom Theaphile's astonishing behavior, Thomas exclaims : Théophile, foi que vous doi, 372 ll samble que vous soiez yvres. . The audience knows why Theaphile is behaving the way he does, but Thomas attri- butes it to inebriacy. 4. Rite and Ritual: The theme is underscored and paralleled by these to a remarkable extent. There is Salatin's incantation, which we shall discuss more fully under language, where it properly belongs. There is the act of homage, enacted on the stage in all its symbolism and solemnity. There is the sermon a rebours which might so easily have been a parody, and instead dramatizes good as the negation of evil. There is the scene of confession, maiestic in its I2-syllable stanzas, that presage the alexandrin of French classical theater : 384 He '. laz, chetis, dolenz, que porrai devenir? 388 Or ai Dieu renoié, ne puet estre te'u 424 Je n'os Dieu reclamer ne ses sainz ne ses saintes Las, que i'ai fet hommage au deable mains iointes. 428 Je n'os Dieu ne ses saintes ne ses sainz reclamer Ne la tres douce Dame que chascuns doit amer. (2, pp. 197-98). 286 and Théophile's prayer to the Virgin: 498 Ha '. resplendissant iame, Tendre et piteuse fame, Car entent ma proiere Que mon vil cors et m'ame De pardurable flame Rapelaisses arriere. (2, pp. 197-98). followed by the pardon, the penance, and the Te Deum. Young tells us that the Te Deum ended the first office of the Church, Matins. "At the conclusion of the 9th responsory, a dignitary begins the singing of the Te Deum and the chorus stands, takes up the chant and carries it through" (1, p. 47). Evidently, this is the procedure followed in the play, the Bishop giving the first line, the audience rising, and taking up the chant: Chantons tuit por ceste novele. Or levez sus, 663 Disons: "Te Deum laudamus". (2, p. 203). F8.B believe that the play was enacted in connection with the Feast of the Nativi- ty (2, p. 174), but we do not know that it was presented at Matins. Concluding the mEtéres with the Te Deum in the 13th century was common practice, witness the Jeu de Saint Nicholas and Courtois d'Arras. 5 . Diction, Spectacle and Song: We have no way of assessing the performance of the actors who played the various roles--they may have been clerics or members of the boys' choir but little is known about this aSpect of 13th century drama. I think we may safely say, though, that if they knew their craft, Rutebeuf gave them every opportunity to exercise it. So far as spectacle is concerned, however, we are fortunate enough to have the experience of a group of 20th century students, under the tutelage of 287 Gustave Cohen, called Theaphiliens,'2 who gave 61 performances of the Miracle with remarkable spectator acclaim, as Gérard d'Houville has attested. '3 Cohen's production took certain liberties with the staging. To the strains of a three-part motet, he brought God on scene in "perruque et barbe blanches, en vetements pontificaux, suivi des deux anges tenant d'une main Sa robe et de l'autre une palme. . .suivi des autres acteurs, qui, apres un instant d'arrét, face au public, vont occuper Ieurs mansions reSpectives" (p. 456). Aside from the fact that this was a gratuitous addition to the play, it was an anachronism. The 13th century would not have dared to impersonate God on the stage. In the Jeu d'Adam, God is represented by M, for it would have been sacrilege for an actor to play His role. It is not until the 15th century that God and his Angels appear in Paradise. Further, he added a chorus singing motets from the Montpellier manuscript, in addition to the Te Deum. While this doubtless enhanced spectacle, it was also a departure from Rutebeuf's tightly-conceived script. As has been shown, there is enough rite and ritual inherent in the play to provide cogent spectacle. Yet, though the staging of the 13th century was simpler than the Cohen production would indicate, spectacle there was, of much the same sort utilized by the Theaphiliens. Cohen's evocation of the mansions is imaginative : Notre-Dame a caté de sa Chapelle, a la tenture bleue, l'évéque et ses clercs devant le Palais Episcopal, a la tenture rouge, Théophile devant so maison a la tenture verte, couleur d'eSpérance. Salatin devant sa maison arabe au rideau iaune et sommée d'une croissant (p.456). lzGustave Cohen, "Expériences Théophiliennes", Mercure de France, CCLXXIII (1 fevrier 1937), 453-477 13Gérard d'HouviIIe, "Festival Rutebeuf", Revue des Deux Mondes, (Feb. 1936), 683-686. 288 He dressed the devil's deputy in a "maillot rouge, masque écarlate et grimagant" (p. 456); the devil himself in red and black with a terrifying mask; created the illusion of fire, flames and thunder. I think perhaps there may be proof for the contention that the mood of the drama was consistently serious in Cohen's account of the reaction to the devil's deputy. The Théophiliens were prepared for the audience's laughter but instead "ce fut un long frisson d'une foule composée en partie d'incrédules, mais qui en- trait dans le ieu et avait, cet aprés-midi de printemps, une ame médievale" (p. 456). This reaction is confirmed in d'HouviIle's review, " Les quatrains de 'la repentance', les douzains de la priere a Notre Dame iaillissent des remords de Théophile. . .Je ne peux pas les entendre ces strophes a iamais vivantes, sans une émotion merveilleuse. . ." (p. 684). L A N G U A G E As is to be expected, the lexicon, in the main, is that of the poems of serious intent, with a Sprinkling of colloquial speech patterns in the dialogue reminiscent of the fabliaux, such as "foi que vous doi", "lessiez me en pais '." and "ie te foulerai la pance". Particularly of interest, however, is Salatin's coniuration of the devil's deputy; Bagahi laca bachaché Lamac cahi achabahé 162 Karrelyos Lamac Iamec bachalyos Cabahagi sabalyos 165 Baryolas Lagozatha cabyolas Samahac et famyolas 168 Harrahya. (2, p. 185). 289 . To the modern ear this verbal fantasy is a parody of language, at which we smile in amusement. Such preponderant importance is given to language as communica- tion through words with established connotations and denotations that we lose sight of the earliest aspect of Ianguage--sound--which existed before it was endowed with specific meaning. Artaud puts it this way: "For I make it my principle that words do not mean everything and that by their nature and defining character, fixed once and for all, they arrest and paralyze thought instead of permitting it and fostering its development."'4 Sound has magic properties in itself, witness onomatopoeia, We Speak of hissing sibilants, buzzing "z"s, humming "m"s and "n"s, liquid "l"s. In terms of sound, the passage may be analyzed as follows: Incidence of vowels: a é 0 38321070 c g l m ch 5 2 Incidence of consonants: b 8 8 3 10 5 3 7 1 Yet this tells us very little. The predominance of "ah" and "i" has been noted on previous occasions as forming the "ahi" of lament, but in this case it does not seem to be intentional. One can search for "Hebraic" sounds, or Latin sounds, as some critics have done, but even if they may be discerned--—"cabyolas" reminiscent of "cabbala", or "famyolas" of "familias"-- all they indicate is a similarity of syllable but meaning is no further advanced. There is a magic to incantation that harks back to the earliest folk drama, '4Antonin Artaud, The Theater and Its Double (New York: Grove Press, Inc., 1958), p. 110. 290 the celebration of the cult in ritual, and it is the symbol beyond the syllable that has meaning. To the medieval mind this conjuration was awesome in that it produced first a visceral and then a conceptual reaction. For these syllables which seem to us mere gibberish, have the power to call forth and give physical shape to a Force--the force of evil. On can understand the shudder that elec- trified Cohen's spectators that May afternoon, caught as they were in the spell of an earlier age, watching the crimson form materialize out of its hole, in a burst of flame, a cloud of smoke, a clap of thunder, summoned by Salatin's sol- emnly-intoned incantation. It is lexicon in its primitive form, and pure theater. Rutebeuf's versification is at its best in the Miracle, as we have shown elsewhere, and there have been ample examples of the rich rhyme and anaphora characteristic of his poetic style. There is an instance of annominatio in the re- pentance speech that I might point out: 412 Ha '. Ias, come fol bailli et com fole baillie '. Or sui ie mal baillis et m'ame mal baillie. Sor m'osoie baillier a la douce baillie, G'i seroie bailliez et m'ame ia baillie. (2, p. 195). but it has more the effect of litany, and suits the tone of the confession. Summary of Poems of avowedly Dramatic Intent In this chapter, we have seen Rutebeuf's dramatic versatility in both comic and serious theater. The Dit de l'Herberie demonstrates his talent for creating a deft caricature with verve and flair, for producing laughter. The Miracle shows his equal mastery of the sublime. Considering Rutebeuf's rhetorical skill, he might well have sacrificed dramatic impact to sermonize, or narrate. He might have lessened serious effect by giving rein to his satiric bent; might have fallen 291 into the trap of his contemporaries and opted for character over plot. Yet his sure sense of the dramatic, his feel for the contemporary convention, his rever— ence for the theme he portrayed served him well. The Miracle is true 13th cen- tury theater, wherein the Language-Thought, Tone-Intent entities are harrnoni- ously blended into a mimetic whole. C O N C L U S IO N Rutebeuf's role as performer-poet has been assessed in terms of the criteria established at the beginning of this study. Three tones have been distinguished-- tragic, comic, bawdy--and three intents--serious, comic and dramatic. Based on Aristotle's dramatic elements, action (comprising theme, plot and character) was defined as the gbiit of mimesis, and devices (comprising diction, spectacle and song) as the m and medium of mimesis, their dual function being to enhance thought in the broad sense of dianoia. Two entities were established: Language- Thought (the medium of expression-the ideas to be expressed) and Tone-Intent (the manner of treating purpose-the purpose to be treated), and the iongleur's poems were examined to determine (1) the dramatic elements discernible therein as well as their relationship to the Tone-Intent entity and (2) how awareness of audience is manifested through Language-Thought. In the poems of serious intent, as befits a poéte engagé, Rutebeuf comments on the social, political and religious aSpects of his time, consonant with prevailing 13th century preoccupations. He preached the Crusades and salvation; excoriated the Mendicants, the Pope and the King; praised God the Father, God the Son, the Holy Virgin and the saints. A bard in the sense of the ancient 13:5, interpreter of the cult, he was not an original thinker blazing trails of fact or fantasy, but more concerned with the spirit, the flesh and the heart than with the intellect. Unknowingly Aristotelian in tradition, the editorialist-commentator- 292 293 publicist considered theme all-important, devices being merely a means of em- bellishing thought. His realm was rhetoric--to edify, to persuade, to arouse to action--but the jongleur took advantage of tonality, gesture, dialogue, mimicry --whatever would highlight his theme, and enhance his audience's apprehension of it. Sensitive to the reactions of his audience, he showed this awareness in syntactical terms--exclamations, imperatives, interrogatives and predominantly first and second-person orientation--and in rhetorical device, such as apostrophe, anaphora and exhortation. The popular genres of his day are represented in his serious poetic ex- pression--allegory, sermon, polemic, hagiography--and to implement thought he made use of lofty lexicon, quickly perceived symbol and imagery, Biblical quota- tion, paraphrase and allusion, proverbs and proverbial expressions, the cadences of litany and prayer. Although irony, barb, pun and innuendo occur frequently in the poems of serious intent, their purpose is not to produce katastasis but its opposite : to arouse concern by exposing to ridicule. The same mimetic elements are utilized in the poems of comic intent. What distinguishes them from the serious is their emphasis. Tied to the entertain- ment function of the iongleur, their aim is not edification but diversion. There are 15 poems of comic intent, representing less than a third of Rutebeuf's extant poetical output. Only two of the genres--personal lyrics and fabliaux--may be accounted comic, since them is a parody of the provengal courtly debate, which the poet used with serious intent in the Disputaison du Croizé et du Décroizé. It is conceivable that Rutebeuf earned his reputation and his 294 sobriquet as a reciter of fabliaux, for he was a gifted raconteur, a keen observer of human nature with an ear for dialogue and conversational cadence, and a flair for farce. Contemporary in theme, the poems of comic intent illuminate for us the human side of the 13th century society, shedding light on its customs, its perSpec- tives, and the problems of the individual in his particular milieu. While the_tf_r- cet coué monologues appear to belong to the camedian's repertoire in view of their hyperbole and lighthearted tone, the octosyllabic strophic monologues are not so easy to pinpoint. Still, by our definition, they cannot be considered of serious intent since the themes are personal rather than didactic. With the ex- ception perhaps of Frere Denise, the fabliaux are consistently comic, if not bawdy, and the same may be said for the Disputaison de Charlot et du barbier. Lexicon is colloquial, prurient, sprinkled with light oaths and pithy com- mentary. The predominance of the first-person singular in the monologues bears out their personal nature. With the exception of Pet au vilain, almost entirely in the third-person, the fabliaux have a preponderance of first and second- persons indicative of dialogue and interchange. Essentially performance pieces, the poems of comic intent rely on mimetic audience contact, and there is a paucity of imperatives and interrogatives directed to the audience. The fabliaux afford the greatest Opportunity for dramatic action, having plot, character, and dialogue and allowing the iongleur Opportunity for impersonation. This is true also of the tefion. It is in the avowedly dramatic works that one sees the effect of Tone- Intent and Language-Thought on action and 'devices. A dramatic monologue in 295 which the performer impersonates a stock character engaged in a realistic situa- tion, the Dit de l'Herberie has no plot, depending on characterization for its comic effect. The poet's purpose is laughter, and katastasis is achieved through mimetic caricature implemented by hyperbole, pun, parody and a bawdy-comic tone. In the Sacristain, designated a pOéme dialogue, the emphasis is not on the subject matter but on the virtuosity of the performer-poet. Although sixty per cent of the poem provides opportunity for mimetic portrayal of plot, dialogue and char- acterization, its dramatic impact is marred by an inconsistency of tone and the sacrifice of action to the poet's dual intent. The Miracle de Théophile is completely mimetic, its serious tone and in- tent aonsistently reflected in action and devices. First and foremost is theme, implemented by plot to which character is subordinate, embellished by rite, ritual, dramatic irony, aside, costume, décor, all the accoutrements of spectacle, en- hanced by language through dialogue, lexicon, versification and syntax. All of Aristotle's elements are felicitously blended in a synthesis of the Tone-Intent- Language-Thought entities, resulting in pure theater-~the pictorializatian of the abstract through the enactment of the concrete apprehended by the senses. Rutebeuf emerges as a dramatist of maior proportions, equally versatile in comedy or in serious drama. The relationship of Tone-Intent to versification is difficult to establish, the same metric forms occurring in poems of serious, comic, or dramatic intent. It is possible to posit the octosyllabic rhyming couplet as the verse for narration, and the tercet coué for conversational cadence, but, apart from these, Rutebeuf's choice of rhyme or rhyme scheme would seem to be dictated by personal 296 preference rather than serious or comic intent. A master craftsman, he had a facility for suiting the cadence to the content, with one notable exception, C'est de Notre Dame, where his choice of heptasyllables marred the effectiveness of the eulogy (see pp. 143-44). A metalinguistic clue to intent may be discerned in Rutebeuf's reiteration of such expressions as "Je di por voir non pas devine“ (see Appendix A - iii-v), which appear only in the poems of serious intent. These are noticeably absentin the poems of comic intent and may well be an indication that the poet did not intend the monologues to be taken seriously. We are reminded of Jauss's observa- tion on the early nature of the dit--didactic and true (estoire-dit) as opposed to fiction (fable-conte)--as having a possible bearing on the subiect (see p. 19 above). Rutebeuf's insistence on his veracity is an outstanding lexical trait and, in my view, warrants serious consideration. On the evidence of his poems, what may be said of Rutebeuf the man ? Can we coniecture that he was a loyal friend (Guillaume de Saint-Amour); an implacable enemy (Mendicants, Pope, and King) ; compassionate (Ribauds de Gréve); sincerely devoted to the Virgin (Marian literature and the Miracle) ? For some it is difficult to reconcile the idealist of the Crusade poems with the gueuleux of the polemics, the cleric with the sinner. As many others, he would cling to absolutes while living relatively. One would expect a man to change over a thirty-year period and the Rutebeuf reflected in the earlier writings (Des Cordeliers, Pet au vilain) would hardly be the same as the seasoned poet of the Nouvelle Complainte, the mellow author of Voie de Paradis, or the 297 crotchety old man of La Mort Rutebeuf. Whatever manner of man he might have been, as a poet, let us grant him an ear for the felicitous cadence, a virtuosity of rhyme, a versatility of image, a passionate intensity, 0 trenchant wit, a "iustesse d'observation", a sense of mission and self-worth, and the ability to attract, to hold, and to seduce an audience, for portrayal was inherent in his art and the performer cannot be separated from the poet. BIBLIOGRAPHY 298 BIBLIOGRAPHY 1. COMPLETE EDITIONS OF RUTEBEUF'S WORKS Faral, Edmond et Bastin, Julia. Oeuvres complétes. 2 vols. Paris: A 8. J Picard, 1959-1960. 2e tirage, 1969. Reviews: Alfred L. Foulet, Speculum, XXXVI, No. 2 (April 1961), 328-332; Edward B. Ham, Romance Philology, XVI, No. 3 (February 1963), 301-323; Omer Jodogne, Les Lettres Romanes, XVII, No. l (1 February 1963), 85-88; H. H. Lucas, French Studies, XV, No. 2 (April 1969), 157-159; Mario Roques, Romania, LXXX, No. 4 (1959), 549-550 (on vol. 10, LXXXL, No. 2 (1960), 288 (on vol. 2). Jubinal, Achille. Oeuvres complétes de Rutebeuf, trouvere du XIIIe siecle. 3vols. Paris: P. Daffis, 1874-1875. Kressner, Adolf. Rustebuef Gedichte nach den Handschriften der Pariser National-Bibliotek herausgegeben. Wolfenbutter: Zwissler, 1895. 2. PARTIAL EDITIONS OF RUTEBEUF'S WORKS Augsburger, Daniel André. "Rutebeuf et la Voie de Paradis dans la Iittérature frangaise du moyen age." Unpublished dissertation: University of Michigan, 1949. Bartsch, Karl. Chrestomathie de I'ancien frangais. ]2e édition, revue et corrigée par Leo Weise. New York: 1958. Bastin, Julia et Faral , Edmond. Onze pOEmes de Rutebeuf concernant la croisade. Paris: P. Geuthner, 1946. Reviews: AlfredFoulet, Speculum, XXII, No. 1 (January 1947), 88-89; P. Groult, Les Lettres Romanes, I, No. 3 (IAugust 1947), 211-232; Edward B. Ham, Modern Language Notes, LXll, No. 4 (April 1949), 280-283; Albert Henry, Le Moyen Age, Llll, Nos. 1-2 (1947), 170-171; Omer Jodogne, Les Lettres Romanes, I, No. 3 (1 August 1947), 263- 264; Félix Lecoy, R_c_>__mnia, LXIX, No. 275 (1946-1947), 396- 400. 299 Buiila, Bernadine A. La Vie de Sainte-Marie l'Egyptienne. The University of Michigan Contributions in Modern PhiTology, No. 12. Ann Arbor: 1949. Reviews: Edmond Faral, Romania, LXXI (1950), 119-126; Grace Frank, Romance Philology, IV (1950-1951), 284 285; Félix Lecoy, Le Moyen Age, LVI, Nos. 1-2 (1950), 145-149; C. A. Robson, Medium Aevum, XX (1951), 88-91. Cantera, Angelo. A Critical Edition of the Fabliaux of Rutebeuf. Unpublished dissertation: University of Michigan, 1960. Clédat, Léon. Morceaux choisis des auteurs frangais du moyen age. 2e édition. Cohen, Paris: Garnier Freres, n. d., pp. 350-361. Gustave, ed. and trans. Anthologie de la Iittérature frangaise du moyen age. Paris: 1946. , Le Miracle de Théophile, miracle du XIIIe siécle. Paris: 1948. "Nos pages anthologiques. Rutebeuf: L'ancetre des poetes maudites. " Les Nouvelles Littéraires, No. 7 (18 January 1936). Reprinted in R3515 de Fontaide, 1.946 . Université. (15 February 1936), Disputaison du Croisé et du décroisé, pp. 11-12 (15 April 1936), La Comante Rutebeuf, pp. 7-8. La Vie Iittéraire en France au Molen Age. Paris: Editions Jules Tallandier, 1953, pp. 226-242, pp. 247—456. Faral, Edmond. Mimes frangais du XIIIe siecle. Pairs: Honoré Champion, 1910. Dit de l'herberie, pp. 55-68. "Pour le commentaire de Rutebeuf: Le Dit des régles, Studi Medievali, Nuova Serie, XVI (1943-1950), 176-211. "Le Dit des cordeliers de Rutebeuf", Romania, LXX (1948-1949), 288,331. "A propos de l'édition des textes anciens: le cas du manuscrit unique", in Recueil delavaux offert a M. Clovis Brunel. Paris: 1955, I, Dit de Sainte Eglise, pp. 409-421. 300 Frank, Grace. Le Miracle de Théophile, Miracle du XIIIe siecle. Paris: CFMA, I925, 2Fédition, 1949. Reviews: Edmond Faral, Romania, LXXII (1951), 199-201; Raphael Levy, Romanic Review, XLI, No. 2 (April 1950), 130-132; Ruth Whittredge, Romance Philology, IV (1950-1951), 67-68. Groult, P., and Edmond, V. Anthologie de la Iittérature frangaise du moyen age des origines a la fin du Xllle siécle. GembToux, 1942, voT. I, pp. 187-194. Ham, Edward Billings. Renart Ie Bestorné. The University of Michigan Contributions in Modern Philology, No. 9 (April 1947). Reviews: AIfred Ewert, Medieum Aevum, XVII (1948), 54-55; Edmond Faral, Romania, LXX, No. 278 (1948), 257-269; Percival B. Fay, Romance Philolog , I, No. 2 (November 1947), 163-166; A. W. Reed, Modern Language Review, XLIII, No. 2 (April 1948), 247—248. Harden, A. Robert. Trois Pieces Médiévales. New York: Appleton-Century- Crofts, 1967, Le Miracle de Théophile, pp. 57-81. Henry, Albert. Chrestomathie de la Iittérature en ancien frangais. Berne, 1953, Vol. I, pp. 244-248, 264-268, 779-7280. Jeanroy, A. Le Miracle de Théophile, traduction nouvelle par un ancien professeur de l'Université avec notes explicatives par. . . Paris, Toulouse: 1932. Review: Mario Roques, Romania, LIX, No. 4 (October 1933). Chansons satiriques et bachiques du XIIIe siécle. Paris: CFMA, 1921, La Chanson des ordres, pp. 13-16, 92~93. Johnston, R. C., and Owen, D. D. R. Fabliaux. Oxford: 1957, Testament de I'ane, pp. 39-43. Review: Jean Rychner, Romance Philology, XII, No. 3 (February 1959), 340-342. Jubinal, Achille. "Le Miracle de ThéOphiIe par Rutebeuf, trouvére du treiziéme sieJe." Paris: 1838. 301 "La Complainte d'outremer et celle de Constantinople", par Rutebeuf; publiées et mises au iour avec une notice sur ce poete par. . . (XIIIe siecle)." Paris: 1834. Lafeuille, Germaine. Rutebeuf, étude par...Paris: Ecrivains d'Hier et d'Auiourd'hui, P. Seghers, 1966. partial trans. Choix de textes, (23 poems), glossary, pp. 175-181; bibliography, pp. 185-187. Langlois, Ernest, et Paris, Gaston. Chrestomathie du moyen age. we édition. Paris: Librairie Hachette, n. d., Le Dit des béguines, pp. 265-266. Lucas, Harry H. Les Poésieipersonnelles de Rutebeuf. Paris: Droz, 1938, Mariage Rutebeuf, Complainte Rutebeuf, Priere Rutebeuf, Griesche . d'yver, Griesche d'esté, Povreté Rutebeuf, Repentance Rutebeuf. Reviews: Julia Bastin, Romania, LXVI, No. 3 (July 1940), 398-407; Jessie Crosland, Modern LanguagevReview, XXXV, No. 1 (January 1940), 102-103; E. Hoepffner, Revue des Langgj» Romanes, LXVIII, Nos. 13—24 (January-December 1938), 224-228. POEmes concernant l'Université de Paris. Paris: 1952. Critical edition. Reviews: Edmond Faral, Romania, LXXIV (1953), 109—120; Grace Frank, Modern Language otes, LXlX, No. 2 (February 1954), 102-104; Edward B. Ham, Romance Philology, Xl, No. I (August 1957), 88-96; Urban T. Holmes, Jr., Speculum, XXVIII, No. 2 (April 1953), 415; Omer Jodogne, Les Lettres Romanes, Vlll, No. 4 (1 November 1954), 460; J. Orr, Modern Lan ua e Review, XLVIII, No. 3 (July 1953), 368. Mary, André. Anthologie poétique frangaise moyen 093, Vol. 1. Paris: Garnier Freres, 1967, pp. 407-425. Méon, Dominique. Nouveau recueil de fabliaux et contes inédits des Bates frangfls des Xlle, Xllle, et XVe siécles. 2 vols. Paris: 1823, Li Diz de l'erberie, I, 185-191. Montaiglon, Anatole de, et Raynaud, Gaston. Recueil général et complet des fabliaux. 6 vols. Paris: 1872-1890. Critical edition. Vol. III: No. 68, Le Pet au vilain, 103-105; No. 79, De la dame qui fit iii tors entor le moustier, 192-198; No. 82, Le testament de l'asne, 215-221; No. 83, De Charlot le iuif (El chia en la pel dou lievre, 222-226; No. 87, De Frere Denise, 263-274. 302 Mustanoia, Tauno. "Les Neuf ioies Nostre Dame: A poem attributed to Rutebeuf.” Annales Academiae Scientiarum Fennicae, Helsinki, 1952, Ser. B, Vol. LXXIII, No. 4. Reviews: Jean Frappier, Romance Philology, X, No. 1 (August 1956), 66-70; Urban T. Holmes, Jr., Speculum, XXVIII, No. 2 (April 1953), 410-411; F. W. A. George, Medium Aevum, XXIII, No. 2 (1954), 102-104; Y. Lefévre, Le Moyen Age, LXII, No. 3 (1956), 372-373; C. E. Pickford, Modern Language Review, XLVlll, No. 4 (October 1953), 499. Pauphilet, Albert. Jeux et sapience du moyen age. Monaco: Gallimard, (Bibliotheque deja Pléiade), 1960,. Le Miracle de Theaphile, pp. 135-158, Le Dit de l'herberie, pp. 203-209. Pernoud, Régine. La Poésie Médiévale frangaise. Editions du chene, 1947, pp. 121-131. Studer, Paul, and Waters, E. G. R. Historical French Reader, Medieval Period. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 4th edition, 196T. De E Descorde de l'Université et des Jacobins, pp. 175-177, La mlainte Rutebeuf, pp. 177-182, Le Miraae de Theaphile (vv. 144-347), pp. 183-191. I Voretzsch, Karl. Altfranz'asisches Lesebuch zur Erlaiiterung der altfranz'osischen Literaturgeschichte. Halle, 1921. C'est de Nostre Dame, pp. 107-103, Li Testamenz de l'asne, pp. 110-112. 3. CRITICAL WORKS ON RUTEBEUF Bastin, Julia. "Quelques pr0pos de Rutebeuf sur le roi, Louis IX, " Bulletin de I'Académie Royae de Langue et de Littérature Francoise, XXXVIII, No. 1 (1960), 5-14. Clédat, Léon. Rutebeuf. "Le Miracle de Théophile." Miracle du Xllle siecle; explication par. . . Paris: Centre de Documentation Universitaire, 1933. "Littérature. Les chefs-d'oeuvre animés au souffle de la ieunesse. La plus ancienne piece de notre théatre en France, Le Miracle de Théophile," Conferencia, XXXI, No. 2 (1 January'l837), 85-93. 303 Le Théatre en France au Moyen Age. Presses Universitaires de France, 1948, pp. 30-32, 99-101. Faral, Edmond. Les Jongleurs en France au moyen age. Paris: Librairie Honoré ChampionfiBibliotheque deT'Ecae cles Hautes Etudes), 1910. Ch. VIII: "Un type de iongleur: Rutebeuf, " pp. 159-166. "Le Dit d'Aristote," Neaphilologus, XXXI, No. 3 (July 1947), 100-103. "Quelques remarques sur Le Miracle de Théophile de Rutebeuf," Romania, LXXII (1951), 182-201. "Trois remarques sur La Vie sainte Elysabel de Rutebeuf, " Studi Medievali, Nuova serie, XVII, No. 1 (30 June 1951), 934$. "Renart le Bestorné, " Romania LXX (1948), 257-269. Frank, Grace. "Rutebeuf and Théophile, " The Romanic Review, XLII, No. 3 (October 1952), 161-165. The Medieval French Drama. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1954, pp. 106-113. Ham, Edward Billings. Rutebeuf and Louis IX. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press (Studies in the Romance Languages and Literatures, No. 42), 1962. Review: Arié Serper, Romance Philology, XVIII, No. 3 (February 1965), 371-374. "Rutebeuf and the Tunis Crusade," Romance Philology, IX, No. 2 (November 1955), 133-138. "The Rutebeuf Guide for Mediaeval Salescraft, " Studies in Philology, XLVII, No. 1 (January 1950), 20-34. "A Rutebeuf Crux, " Romance Philology, Ill, Nos. 2 and 3 (November 1949-February 1950), 168-172. . "Rutebeuf--Pauper and Polemist," Romance Philology, XI, No. 3 (February 1958), 226-239. 304 Henry, Albert. Un passage difficile de Rutebeuf. Baldinger, Kurt, ed. Festschrift: Walther von Wartburg zum 80 Geburtstag, 18 mai 1968. 2 vols. Tubingen: Max Niemeyer Verl., 1968. Vol. I pp. 381390. Holmes, Urban Tigner, Jr. A History of Old French Literature. New York: Russell and Russell, Inc., 1962. pp. 227, 248, 312-313. Reviews: Percival B. Fay, Speculum, XIII, No. 4(1938), 68-70; R. Levy, Modern Language Notes (I938), 467-468. Houville, Gérard d'. "Spectacles: Festival Rutebeuf," Revue des Deux Mondes, XXXI (February 1936), 683-686. Jodogne, Omer. "L'anticlericalisme de Rutebeuf, " Les Lettres Romanes, vol. 23 (1969), 219-244. Junker, Albert. "Uber den Gebrauch des Stilnittels der Annominatio bei Rutebeuf, " Zeitschrift fur Romanische Philologie, LXIX, Nos. 5-6 (1953), 323-346. Keins, Paul. "Rutebeufs Weltanschauung im Spiegel seiner Zeit, " Zeitschrift Par Romanische Philologie, Llll, Nos. 5-6 (1933), 569-575. Lecoy, Félix. "Sur un passage difficile de Rutebeuf: Chanson des Ordres, W. 49-50, " Romania, LXXXV, Nos. 2-3 (1964), 368-372. Lenient, C. Le Satire en France au moyen age. 3e édition revue et corrigée. Paris: 1883. "Ruteboeuf,'Tpp. 52-66. Leo, Ulrich. "Rutebeuf: persbnlicher Ausdruck und Wirklichkeit, " Saggi e richerche in memoria di Ettore Li Gotti. Palermo: 1962, II, 126-167. Studien zu Rutebeuf: Entwick'lungsgeschichte und Form des Renart le Bestourné und der ethisch-politischen Dichtungen Rutebeufs. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift Fur Romanische Philologie, No. 67. Halle, 1922. Review: Heinrich Gelzer, Archiv fur das Studiem der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen, CXLVI(I.923), 266-268. Nash, Suzanne. "Rutebeuf, Contribution to the Saint Mary the Egyptian Legend." French Review, Vol. XLIV (March 1971), 695-705. 305 Pesce, L.-G. "Le portrait de Rutebeuf, " Revue de l'Université d'Ottawa, XXVIII, No. 1 (January-March 1958), 55-118. Post, Charles H. "The Paradox of Humor and Satire in the Poems of Rutebeuf, " French Review, XXV, No. 5 (April 1952), 363-368. Regalado, Nancy Freeman. Poetic Patterns in Rutebeuf. Yale University Press, 1970. "Two Poets of the Medieval City: Rutebeuf and Villan, " Yale French Studies, XXXII, "Paris in Literature" (1964), 12-21. Serper, Arié. Rutebeuf, poete satirique. Klincksieck, 1969. "La Foi profonde de Rutebeuf, " Revue de l'Université d'Ottawa, XXXIII, No. 3 (July-September 1963), 337-341. "L'lnfluence de Guillaume de Saint-Amour sur Rutebeuf, " Romance —_ Philology, XVII, No. 2 (November 1963), 391-403. 4. REFERENCE WORKS Adam Le Bossu. Le jeu de la feuillée. Ed. Ernest Langlois, 2e édition revue. Paris: Librairie Honoré Champion CFMA, 1966. Ahsmann, H. -P. Le Culte de la Sainte Vierge et la Iittérature frangaise du moyen age. Utrecht-Paris: 1930. Apuleius, Lucius. "The Golden Ass, " trans. by William Adlington, edited, with an introduction by Harry C. Schnur. New York: The MacmilTan Company, 1965. Artaud, Antonin. The Theater and its Double. trans from the French by Mary Caroline Richards, New York: Grove Press, Inc., 1958. Aristotle's Poetics, with an introduction by Francis Fergusson. New York: Hill and Wang (A Dramabook), 1961. Auerbach, Erich. "Dante's Prayer to the Virgin (Paradiso, XXXIII) and Earlier Eulogies," Romance Philology, III, No. 1 (August 1949), 1-26. 306 Mimesis. The Representation of Reality in Western Literature. Trans. Willard Trask. New York: (Anchor Books Editiorfi, 1957. pp. 124-151. Baudelaire, Charles. Curiosité esthétiques. Paris: Garnier Freres, 1962. Chap. VI, De l'Essence du Rire, pp. 241-263. Bédier, Joseph. Les Fabliaux: Etudes de Iittérature populaire et d'histoire littéraire du moyen age. 4th ed. Paris: 1925. Les Chansons de Colin Muset. CFMA, Paris: Champion, 1969. 28 édition corrigée et complété. Bloch, Marc. Feudal Society. Trans. L. A. Manyon. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961. La France sous les derniers Capétiens, 1223-1328. ("Cahiers cles AnnalES publiés avec le concours du Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique.") Paris: 1958. Briffault, Robert. The Troubadours. Edited by Lawrence F. Koons. Bloomington: Indiana University Press (Midland Books), 1965. Chailly, Jacques. Histoire Musicale du Moyen Age. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1950. Chambers, E. K. The Medieval Stage. Oxford: 1903. Chaucer, Geoffrey. The Complete Works. Ed. Rev. Walter W. Skeat, Oxford: The Clarendon Press. Cohen, Gustave. Histoire de la mise en scéne dans le théatre religieux frangais du moyen age. 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Contributions :1 I'étude des fabliaux: variantes, remaniements, degradations. 2vols. NeuchatEI: 1960. Sypher, Wiley. Comedy. New York: Doubleday 8. Co., 1956. Taylor, Henry Osborn. The Medieval Mind. 2 vols. Cambridge, Mass: 1949. The Classical Heritage of the Middle Ages. New York: Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., 1957. p. .18. Vinaver, Eugene. "A la recherche d'un poétique médiévale, " Cahiers de Civilisation Médiévale II, No. 1 (January-March 1959), 1-16. Weber, Alfred. "Zwie ungedruckte Versionen der Theophilussage, " Zeitschrift fur Romanische Philologie, I (1877), 521-540. Young, John Adam. The Drama of the Medieval Church. 2 vols. Oxford: 1933. Zeydel, Edwin H. Vagabond Verse. Secular Latin Poems of the Middle Ages. trans. with an introduction and commentary by. . . Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1966. 312 "Knowledge of Hrotsuitha's works prior to 1500. " Modern Language Review, LIX (1944), 382-385. Zumthor, Paul . Langue et Techniques poétiques a l'époque romane (XIe - XIIIe siECTesf Paris: (Bibliotthue Francoise et Romane, Serie C: Etudes littéraires, IV), 1963. d."- v.1 .. 0.5.. u f o . . . . . . I n I ..vte.-n. I....r..!..%- e B 11.31.... ,1. .. . 020.00.... I: . 9v . .flvd... 0.9.Q. oft-[ha " éajn‘hr‘f 2'... A: r1”. « q APPENDICES 313 APPENDIX A Poems of Serious Intent In listing the titles of the poems of serious intent, I use the same identifying letter symbols as F&B, 1, p. 99. The dates are approximate, also based on F&B deter- minations, and where no date is indicated, in their opinion none can be satisfac- torily established. A question mark indicates some critics do not agree on the date. SYMBO L gaggggN-(x€ > Z TITLE Dit des Cordeliers Discorde de l'Université Dit de Guillaume de Saint-Amour Du Pharisien Complainte de Guillaume Des Regles Dit de Sainte Eglise Dit d'Hypocrisie Bataille des Vices contre les Vertus Des Jacobins Ordres de Paris Chanson des Ordres Des Béguines Voie de Paradis Dit de l'Université de Paris Plaies du Monde Etat du Monde De Monseigneur Geoffroi de Sergines Complainte de Constantinople Chanson de Pouille Dit de Pouille Complainte d'outremer Complainte d'Eudes de Nevers Voie de Tunes Disputaison du Croisé et du Décroisé Complainte du Roi de Navarre Complainte du Comte de Poitiers Nouvelle Complainte d'outremer Anseau de l'IsIe Renart le Bestourné Dit d'Aristote DA TE 1249 1254 1 257 1 259 1259 1 259 I 259 1261 I 270 1 263 -65 l 263 after 1263 1 265 1 266-75 after 1 271 before 1 265 1 255 -56 1 262 1 264-65 1 265 I 265 1 266 l 267 1 268-69 1 271 I 271 1 277 1 252-60 1 261? 1 270 ‘_-.v APPENDIX A - 11 ISYMBOL AS AT AW AX AY 314 . TITLE . DATE Sainte Marie L'Egyptienne Sainte Elysabel Dit de Notre Dame Ave Maria C'est de Notre Dame *F8B explain the problems of chronology and indicate a possible order of precedence in vol. 2, pp. 206-211. I. Classification of Poems of Serious Intent by Theme Crusade Poems (12) T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z, AB, AC, AD, AE, AF* Sermon or Moralizing (10) D, E, G, H, J, K, O, Q, R, AN Polemic (9) AI BI CI Fl LI MI NI Pl AK Marian Literature (5) AS, AT, AW, AX, AY *See F8.B, vol. 1, p. 510, note 1. II. Classification by Genre: Allegory-Dream (6) D, E, H, J, K, O Allegory-Fable (1) AK Bataille (I) J Chansons (2) M, V Complaintes *Dits (8) E, T, U, X, Y, AC, AD, AE (8) A, c, G, N, P, w, AN, AW 315 APPENDIX A - iii Etat du Monde (1) R Eulogy (3) AF, AX, AY Hagiography (2) AS, AT Plaies du Monde (1) Q Tencon (1) AB Voies (2) O, Z *The term "dit" is used here to classify those poems where it appears in the title, with the exception of Dit d'Hypocrisie (H), included under "Allegory- Dream" where it properly belongs. There are 5 poems which start with a partitive article as though indicating "Dit" as omitted but understood in the title - F, AF, N, D, and K. Fot this reason "Des Béguines" (N) has been treated in this category, the other 4 being variously classified. III. Incidence of Lexicon Fols est .. . qui en toi n'a fiance (2, . 57, v. 1242). qui enchiés li ira (I, p. 349, v. 247). . cil qui pensse autre part Et plus est fols qui se depart .0 De vostre acorde (2, p. 343, W. 124-126). . .. qui en toi ne se fie (2, p. 242, v. 112). qui por tel Ieu s'orgueille (2, p. 139, v. 1259). . clamez cil qui n'a rien: (1, p. 378, v. 23). Foulz est ...... qui contre mort cuide I troveir deffence (1, p. 466, v. 105). Fol sunt s'il Ia vuelent changier (I, p. 475, v. 135). Je di por voir, non pas devine (I, p. 297, v. 299). Je di por voir, non pas devin (1, p. 272, v. 70). Je di por voir non pas devine (1, p. 307, v. 46). Je di por voir non pas devine (1, p. 341, v. 14). Je di por voir non pas devin (1, p. 491, v. 137). Je di por voir non pas devin (2, p. 114, v. 429). Je di por voir non pas devine (2, p. 129, v. 921). 316 APPENDIX A - iv Et bien vous di sanz deviner (2, p. 42, v. 738). Se Rustebués est voir disanz (1, p. 363, v. 662). Se Rustebués est voir disanz (1, p. 307, v. 38). De ce dirai Ia verité: (I, p. 307, v. 28). Cil vous escoutent bien a dire La veritei trestoute plainne (l, p. 290, W. 78-79). Nus n'en dit voir c'on ne l'assomme (1, p. 325, v. 57). Or vous a dit la verité (l, p. 345, v. 124). Verité ai dite en mains leus; (I, p. 269, v. 3). Jons ne mentastre n'i a point (I, p. 357, v. 474). Ne cuidiez pas que ie vous mante. . . (1, p. 359, v. 529). Vous en die ce que i'en sai (1, p. 359, v. 531). Je vous di bien veraiement (1, p. 387, v. 125). ce est la voire (1, p. 498, v. 29). Teiz com ies vi ie les vos name (1, p. 502, v. 140). Or du voir dire ,'.. (1, p. 549, v. 61). De dire fable en lieu de voir (2, p. 103, v. 61). C'est veritez que ie vous di (2, p. 242, v. 103). Si com c'est voirs que tu dei's (2, p. 243, v. 154). Ne cuidiez pas que ce soit guile (1, p. 294, v. 182). Ne cuidiez pas que ce soit guile (1, p. 334, v. 76). Ne cuidiez pas que ce soit guile (1, p. 457, v. 69). Ce n'est pas guile (1, p. 551, v. 118). Ne cuidiez pas que ce soit guile (2, p. 124, v. 778). Ce n'est pas guile (2, p. 139, v. 1248). 317 APPENDIX A - v Ne cuidiez pas que ie vous mante (I, p. 359, v. 529). Ne cuidiez pas que ie vous mente (2, p. 130, v. 958). De ce vous vueil ie bien aprendre (l, p. 349, v. 250) Ce vueil ie bien que chascuns croie (I, p. 241, v. 58). Or vous vueil dire de son estre (1, p. 252, v. 45). Or vous vueil dire de son estre (1, p. 368, v. 818) Or vous vueil ie dire orendroit (l, p. 359, v. 520) Raconter vous vueil de sa vie: (1, p. 359, v. 528) Je vueil que I'aprenez a mi (1, p. 362, v. 623) Si com moi samble (I, p. 272, v. 77). Si com moi samble (2, p. 40 v. 677). Si com moi samble (1, p. 384, v. 41). Si com moi samble (1, p. 385, v. 66). Si com moi samble (1, p. 415, v. 55). Si com moi samble (2, p. 148, v. 1550). Si com ie cuit et il me samble (1, p. 360, v. 580). Si com ie cuit (1, p. 254, v. 91). Si com ie pans (1, p. 263, v. 133). Si com ie croi (1, p. 361, v. 595). Si come ie croi (1, p. 477, v. 189). Ce me samble (1, p. 275, v. 165). Ce me samble (1, p. 379, v. 45). Ce me samble (2, p. 103, v. 69). Ce me samble (2, p. 104, v. 94). Ce me samble (2, p. 159, v. 1933). Ce me cemble (1, p. 296, v. 262). Ce me samble (2, p. 40, v. 642). Si com Ior oevre me recorde (I, p. 366, v. 738). Si comyi'ai 07 et apris (1, p. 484, v. 119). Si comme moi mambre (2, p. 150, v. 1629). Si com nous avons bien apris (2, p. 159, v. 1923). Que vous iroie ie aloingnant Ne mes paroles porloingnant‘? (1, p. 355, W. 401-02). 318 APPENDIX A - vi Que vous iroi'e' aloignant Ne mes paroles porloignant? (1, p. 298, W. 307-08). Que vos iroie delaiant Ne mes paroles porloignant? (1, p. 484, W. 113-14). Que vous iroie ie aloingnant Ne mes paroles porloingnant? (2, p. 125, W. 789-90). Que vous iroie plus rimant? (1, p. 508, v. 354). Que vous iroie plus rimant? (2, p. 50, v. 986). Que vous iroie plus rimant? (2, p. 104, v. 116). Que vous iroie plus celant? (I, p. 445, v. 42). Qu'iroie ie celant? (1, p. 465, v. 67). Que vous diroie? (2, p. 33, v. 430). Que vous diroi'é? (1, p. 356, v. 446). Que vous diroie? (2, p. 117, v. 529). Je ne sai que plus vous diroie (1, p. 425, v. 21). Je ne sai que plus vous diroie (1, p. 415, v. 54). Ne sai que plus briefment vous die (I, p. 276, v. 181). Ne sai que plus briefment vous die (1, p. 353, v. 359). Je ne sai que dire (1, p. 540, v. 52). Je ne sai que plus vous devis: (I, p. 445, v. 32). Je qu'en diroie? (I, p. 252, v. 41). Je qu'en diroie? (I, p. 549, v. 73). Et qui lor engressent les pances (l, p. 270, v. 21). Qui fetes Dieu de vostre pance, (1, p. 448, v. 111). Qui faites Dieu de votre pance, (1, p. 506, v. 282). Ne font pas Ior Dieu de Ior pance (1, p. 366, v. 732). . . .ne vuet pas faire Dieu de sa pance (1, p. 437, v. 11). Se les pances ne sont trop orasses (1, p. 447, v. 101). 319 APPENDIX B Some observations on the tercet coué The tercet coué verse form cannot be identified with theme or genre, with serious or comic intent. There are four instances of its use among the poems of serious intent: D, E, AK, and AX. There are four among the personal lyrics: AG, AH, AL, AM. It appears also in the first half of the Dit de l'Herberie, and in the Miracle de Théophile. Yet there is a possible coniecture'to be mode can- cerning the dating of these ten poems. Du Pharisien and the Complainte de Guillaume are considered by F8.B to have been written in 1259. L'Ave Maria is not dated by F8.B, although the de- tailed reference to Théophile might be an indication, in their view, that this piece was posterior to the play. Monsignor Pesce hypothesizes with respect to all the poems on the Virgin, "on pourrait les dater de 1266, année de la célébra- tion solenelle de la fete de la Conception, qui était en méme temps Ia fete de la Nation normande a l'Université (Marianum, 1954, f III, p. 290-298), mais c'est seulement une hypothese" (p. 97). It is conceivable that the Ave Maria was written about the same time as the other poems, however, and there is nothing really to indicate that it was not. The fourth poem of serious intent is Renart le Bestorné, the dating of which is discussed on p. 82 above. Of the four poems of comic intent, F8.B believe that the Griesche d'hiver preceded the Griesche d'été but by a very short interval, perhaps the Space of two seasons. Ham proposes "soon after 1272" as the date for Griesche d'été (Romance Philology, I949-50, p. 168). According to F8.B, however, il est fort malaisé 320 APPENDIX B - ii d'assigner une date sOre a des compositions de cette sorte. Toutefois, les Griesche contiennent certains vers qui en rappellent d'autres du Mariage Rute- beuf: ce qui inciterait a placer tout Ie lot vers le meme temps, y compris la Com- plainte Rutebeuf, qui a suivi de pres le Mariage" (1, p. 520). Since the four poems are all written in the tercet coué form and F83 date the Mariage as possibly 1261, and the Complainte as 1262, can we assume that they were all written dur- ing this period? Further, the tercet coué is used in the Miracle de Théophile. Critics seem to agree on 1261 as the date of this play, for varying reasons. Gustave Cohen bases himself on the sculpture "sous Ie gable du croisillon nord de Notre-Dame de Paris, rue du CIoI‘t-re" (La vie littéraire, p. 248). Since the transept was finished by Jean de Chelles towards 1262, he considers this the terminus fl qu_er1 (p. 249). F&B, basing themselves on the name "Salatin" which evokes for them the Saracens, think it possible "qu'il écrivait a un moment 00 redoublait en Occident I'inquiétude causée par les menaces et la détestation des ennemis de I'Eglise : or tel était bien Ie cas en 1261" (2, p. 175). Grace Frank accepts the date because of "similarities of tone and content" between the play and the Mariage Rutebeuf (Romanic Review, 1952, t. XLIII, p. 161 ff ). The tenth poem in which the verse form occurs is the Dit de l'Herberie, whose date is debatable, although F8.B incline towards 1271 , because that was the year the Paris Faculté de Médecine took suppressive action against those who il- legally operated on or treated the sick. E5pecially forbidden to practice were the "apothicaires" and the "herbiers" who were limited to preparing medicine 321 APPENDIX B - iii prescribed by doctors. "Les apothicaires (ou 'épiciers') tenaient boutique; les herbiers de meme, mais vendaient aussi en plein air. . ." (2, p. 266). In my view, however, the Herberie could have been written earlier, and might even have led to the Faculté's suppressive action, since it so ably demonstrated the danters of the prescribing quack, and was a very popular piece with the public. If the date for the Herberie is indeed 1271, then this remains the only example of the tercet coué among the later poems for which dates have been estab- lished. Is this a possible argument for Faral's interpretation of Renart le Bestorné's having been written in 1261? As we have seen, this was the period of the con- certed diatribe against the Mendicants. With eight of the ten examples probably written between 1259 and 1262, and the remaining two possibly, if not probably, was this also the period of the tercet coué? 322 APPENDIX C Poems of Comic Intent SYMBOL TITLE DATE Personal Lyrics A G Griesche d'hiver 1261—62 7 A H Griesche d'été 1261-62 ? AJ Dit des ribauds de Grave AL Mariage Rutebeuf 1261-62 7 AM Complainte Rutebeuf 1262 ? AO Paix de Rutebeuf 1266? I271 ? AP Povreté Rutebeuf 1276-77 ? AQ Mort Rutebeuf 1277? 1285? Fabliaux BA Charlot le iuif et la peau de liEVre BD Frere Denise BE La dame qui fit trois tours autour du moutier BF Testament de I'One BG Pet au vilain Tengon - Invective BB La Disputaison de Charlot et du barbier AR De Brichemer 323 APPENDIX C - ii ll. Versification in Poems of Comic Intent: FORM TITLE STANZAS LINES T e r c e t C o u é Mariage Rutebeuf 138 Complainte Rutebeuf 165 (see Appendix B) Griesche d'hiver 107 Griesche d'été 116 Octosyllabic rhyming Ribaudsde Greve 12 couplets Charlot le Juif 132 Frere Denise 336 La dame qui fit. . . 170 Testament de l'ane 170 Pet au vilain 76 Octosyllabic-strophic 8-line stanza De Brichemer 3 24 abababab Disputaison 13 104 l2-line stanza Paix de Rutebeuf 4 48 a a b a a b b b a b b a Povreté Rutebeuf 4 48 Mort Rutebeuf 7 84 Ill. Incidence of Lexicon Que vos iroie ie dizant Ne mes paroles esloignant (2, p. 258, W. 67-68). Que vos iroie ge dizant? (2, p. 287, v. 161). Que vous iroie ie disant Ne leur paroles devisant’? (2, p. 291, W. 325-26). Que vous iroie controuvant’? (2, p. 296, v. 118). Se ie soie de Dieu assouz (2, p. 258, v. 88). Se ie soie cle Dieu assoux (2, p. 303, v. 153). 324 APPENDIX C - iii Foi que tu dois sainte Marie (I, p. 524, v. 91). Foi que doi Ave Maria (I, p. 549, v 77). Foi que doi sainte Jame . (2, p. 262, v. 25). Foi que ie doi Sainte Marie (2, p. 264, v. 75). Foi que ie doi sant Pol I'apostre (2, p. 295, v. 84). Par la foi que vous doi (2, p. 264, v. 89). Par saint Denise (2, p. 289, v. 256). Par saint Jaque (2, p. 297, v. 154). Par Marie l'Egyptienne (2, p. 302, v. 102). MICHIGAN srnTE UNIV. LIBRARIES IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIll 31293101790669