CHAPTER III.

THE LOVES OF THE TROUBADOURS.

Gente, che d'amor givan ragionando.--PETRARCA.

The irruptions of the northern nations, among whom our sex was far

better appreciated than among the polished Greeks and Romans; the rise

of Christianity, and the institution of chivalry, by changing the moral

condition of women, gave also a totally different character to the

homage addressed to them. It was in the ages called gothic and

barbarous,--in that era of high feelings and fierce passions,--of love,

war, and wild adventure, that the sex began to take their true station

in society. From the midst of ignorance, superstition, and ferocity,

sprung up that enthusiasm, that exaggeration of sentiment, that

serious, passionate, and imaginative adoration of women, which has

since, indeed, degenerated into mere gallantry, but was the very

fountain of all that is most elevated and elegant in modern poetry, and

most graceful and refined in modern manners.

The amatory poetry of Provence had the same source with the national

poetry of Spain; both were derived from the Arabians. To them we trace

not only the use of rhyme, and the various forms of stanzas, employed by

the early lyric poets, but by a strange revolution, it was from the

East, where women are now held in seclusion, as mere soulless slaves of

the passions and caprices of their masters, that the sentimental

devotion paid to our sex in the chivalrous ages was derived.[4] The

poetry of the Troubadours kept alive and enhanced the tone of feeling on

which it was founded; it was cause and effect re-acting on each other;

and though their songs exist only in the collections of the antiquarian,

and the very language in which they wrote has passed away, and may be

accounted _dead_,--so is not the spirit they left behind: as the

founders of a new school of amatory poetry, we are under obligations to

their memory, which throw a strong interest around their personal

adventures, and the women they celebrated.

The tenderness of feeling and delicacy of expression in some of these

old Provencal poets, are the more touching, when we recollect that the

writers were sometimes kings and princes, and often knights and

warriors, famed for their hardihood and exploits. William, Count of

Poitou, our Richard the First, two Kings of Arragon, a King of Sicily,

the Dauphin of Auvergne, the Count de Foix, and a Prince of Orange, were

professors of the "gaye science." Thibault,[5] Count of Provence and

King of Navarre, was another of these royal and chivalrous Troubadours,

and his _lais_ and his virelais were generally devoted to the praises of

Blanche of Castile, the mother of Louis the Ninth--the same Blanche whom

Shakspeare has introduced into King John, and decked out in panegyric

far transcending all that her favoured poet and lover could have offered

at her feet.[6]

Thibault did, however, surpass all his contemporaries in refinement of

style: he usually concludes his _chansons_ with an _envoi_, or address,

to the Virgin, worded with such equivocal ingenuity, that it is equally

applicable to the Queen of Heaven, or the queen of his earthly

thoughts,--"La Blanche couronnee." There is much simplicity and elegance

in the following little song, in which the French has been modernised.

"Las! si j'avais pouvoir d'oublier

Sa beaute,--son bien dire,

Et son tres doux regarder

Finirait mon martyre!

Mais las! mon coeur je n'en puis oter;

Et grand affolage

M'est d'esperer;

Mais tel servage

Donne courage

A tout endurer.

Et puis comment oublier

Sa beaute, son bien dire,

Et son tres doux regarder?

Mieux aime mon martyre!"

Princesses and ladies of rank entered the lists of poesy, and

vanquished, on almost every occasion, the Troubadours of the other sex.

For instance, that Countess of Champagne, who presided with such eclat

in one of the courts of love; Beatrice, Countess of Provence, the mother

of four queens, among whom was Berengaria of England; Clara d'Anduse,

one of whose songs is translated by Sismondi; a certain Dame

Castellosa, who in a pathetic remonstrance to some ungrateful lover,

assures him that if he forsakes her for another, and leaves her to die,

he will commit a heinous sin before the face of God and man; that

charming Comtesse de Die, of whom more presently, and others

innumerable, "tout hommes que femmes, la pluspart gentilshommes et

Seigneurs de Places, amoureux des Roynes, Imperatrices, Duchesses,

Marquises, Comtesses, et gentils-femmes; desquelles les maris

s'estimaient grandement heureux quand nos poetes leurs addressaient

quelque chant nouveau en notre langue Provencal." The said poets being

rewarded by these debonnaire husbands with rich dresses, horses, armour,

and gold;[7] and by the ladies with praise, thanks, courteous words, and

sweet smiles, and very often, "altra cosa piu cara." The biography of

these Troubadours generally commences with the same phrase--Such a one

was "gentilhomme et chevalier," and was "pris d'amour" for such a lady,

always named, who was the wife of such a lord, and in whose honour and

praise he composed "maintes belles et doctes chansons." In these

"chansons,"--for all the amatory poetry of those times was sung to

music,--we have love and romantic adventure oddly enough mixed up with

piety and devotion, such as were the mode in an age when religion ruled

the imagination and opinions of men, without in any degree restraining

the passions, or influencing the conduct. One Troubadour tells us, that

when he beholds the face of his mistress, he crosses himself with

delight and gratitude; another pathetically entreats a priest to

dispense him from his vows of love to a certain lady, whom he loved no

longer; the lady being the wife of another, one would imagine that the

dispensation should rather have been required in the first instance.

Arnaldo de Daniel, unable to soften the obdurate heart of his mistress,

performs penance, and celebrates six (or as some say, a thousand) masses

a day, "en priant Dieu de pouvoir acquerir la grace de sa dame," and

burns lamps before the Virgin, and consecrates tapers for the same

purpose: the lady with whom he is thus piously in love, was Cyberna, the

wife of Guillaume de Bouille. This was something like the incantations

and sacrifices of the classic poets, who familiarly mixed up their

mythology with their amours; but in a spirit as different as the

allegorical cupid of these chivalrous poets is from the winged and

wanton deity of the Greeks and Romans. Pierre Vidal sees a vision of

Love, whom he describes as a young knight, fair and fresh as the day,

crowned with a wreath of flowers instead of a helmet; and mounted on a

palfrey as white as snow, with a saddle of jasper, and spurs of

chalcedony; his squires and attendants are "_Mercy_, _Pudeur_, and

_Loyaute_." _Sir Cupid_ on horseback, with his saddle and his spurs,

attended by Gentleness, Modesty, and Good Faith, is a novel

divinity.--Thus, among the Greeks, Love was attended by the Graces, and

among the Troubadours by the Virtues. In the same spirit of allegory,

but touched with a more classic elegance, we have Petrarch's Cupid,

driving his fiery car in triumph, followed by a shadowy host of captives

to his power,--the heroes who had confessed and the poets who had sung

his might.

Vidi un vittorioso e sommo duce,

Pur com' un di color ch' in Campidoglio

Trionfal carro a gran gloria conduce.

....*....*....*....*

Quattro destrier via piu che neve bianchi:

Sopr' un carro di foco un garzon crudo

Con arco in mano, e con saeette a' fianchi.

And yet more finished is Spenser's "Masque of Cupid," in the third book

of the Fairy Queen, where Love, as in the antique gem, is mounted on a

lion, preceded by minstrels carolling

A lay of love's delight with sweet concent,

attended by Fancy, Desire, Hope, Fear, and Doubt; and followed by Care,

Repentance, Shame, Strife, Sorrow, &c.--The vivid colours in which these

imaginary personages are depicted, the image of the God "uprearing

himself," and looking round with disdain on the troop of victims and

slaves who surround him, the rattling of his darts, as he shakes them in

defiance and in triumph, and "claps on high his coloured wings twain,"

forms altogether a most finished and gorgeous picture; such as Rubens

should have painted, as far as his pencil, rainbow-dipt, could have

reflected the animated pageant to the eye.

The extravagance of passion and boundless devotion to the fair sex,

which the Troubadours sang in their lays, they not unfrequently

illustrated by their actions; and while the knowledge of the first is

confined to a few antiquarians, the latter still survive in the history

and the traditions of their province. One of these (Guillaume de la

Tour) having lost the object of his love, underwent, during a whole

year, the most cruel and unheard-of penances, in the hope that heaven

might be won to perform a miracle in his favour, and restore her to his

arms; at length he died broken-hearted on her tomb.[8] Another,[9]

beloved by a certain princess, in some unfortunate moment breaks his vow

of fidelity, and unable to appease the indignation of his mistress, he

retires to a forest, builds himself a cabin of boughs, and turns hermit,

having first made a solemn vow that he will never leave his solitude

till he is received into favour by his offended love. Being one of the

most celebrated and popular Troubadours of his province, all the knights

and the ladies sympathise with his misfortunes: they find themselves

terribly _ennuyes_ in the absence of the poet who was accustomed to

vaunt their charms and their deeds of prowess; and at the end of two

years they send a deputation, entreating him to return,--but in vain:

they then address themselves to the lady, and humbly solicit the pardon

of the offender, whose disgrace in her sight, has thrown a whole

province into mourning. The princess at length relents, but upon

conditions which appear in these unromantic times equally extraordinary

and difficult to fulfil. She requires that a hundred brave knights, and

a hundred fair dames, pledged in love to each other, (s'aimant d'amour)

should appear before her on their knees, and with joined hands

supplicate for mercy: the conditions are fulfilled: the fifty pair of

lovers are found to go through the ceremony, and the Troubadour receives

his pardon.[10]

The story of Peyre de Ruer, "gentilhomme et Troubadour," might be termed

a satirical romance, did we not know that it is a plain fact, related

with perfect simplicity. He devotes himself to a lady of the noble

Italian family of Carraccioli, and in her praise he composes, as usual,

"maintes belles et doctes chansons:"--but the lady seems to have had a

taste for magnificence and pleasure; and the poet, in order to find

favour in her eyes, expends his patrimony in rich apparel, banquets, and

_joustes_ in her honour. The lady, however, continues inexorable; and

Peyre de Ruer takes the habit of a pilgrim and wanders about the

country. He arrives in the holy week at a certain church, and desires of

the cure permission to preach to his congregation of penitents:--he

ascends the pulpit, and recites with infinite fervour and grace one of

his own chansons d'amour,--for, says the chronicle, "_autre chose ne

scavait_," "he knew nothing better." The people mistaking it for an

invocation to the Virgin Mary or the Saints, are deeply affected and

edified; eyes are seen to weep that never wept before; the most

impenitent hearts are suddenly softened: he concludes with an

exhortation in the same strain--and then descending from the pulpit,

places himself at the door, and holding out his hat for the customary

alms, his delighted congregation fill it to overflowing with pieces of

silver. Peyre de Ruer forthwith casts off his pilgrim's gown, and in a

new and splendid dress, and with a new song in his hand, he presents

himself before the ladye of his love, who charmed by his gay attire not

less than by his return, receives him most graciously, and bestows on

him "maintes caresses."

I must observe that the biographer of this Peyre de Ruer, himself a

churchman, does not appear in the least scandalised or surprised at

this very novel mode of recruiting his finances and obtaining the favour

of the lady; but gives us fairly to understand, that after such a proof

of _loyaute_ he should have thought it quite contrary to all rule if she

had still rejected the addresses of this _gentil Troubadour_.

Jauffred (or Geffrey) de Rudel is yet more famous, and his story will

strikingly illustrate the manners of those times. Rudel was the

favourite minstrel of Geffrey Plantagenet de Bretagne, the elder brother

of our Richard Coeur de Lion, and like the royal Richard, a patron of

music and poetry. During the residence of Rudel at the court of England,

where he resided in great honour and splendour, caressed for his talents

and loved for the gentleness of his manners, he heard continually the

praises of a certain Countess of Tripoli; famed throughout Europe for

her munificent hospitality to the poor Crusaders. The pilgrims and

soldiers of the Cross, who were returning wayworn, sick and disabled,

from the burning plains of Asia, were relieved and entertained by this

devout and benevolent Countess; and they repaid her generosity, with all

the enthusiasm of gratitude, by spreading her fame throughout

Christendom.

These reports of her beauty and her beneficence, constantly repeated,

fired the susceptible fancy of Rudel: without having seen her, he fell

passionately in love with her, and unable to bear any longer the

torments of absence, he undertook a pilgrimage to visit this unknown

lady of his love, in company with Bertrand d'Allamanon, another

celebrated Troubadour of those days. He quitted the English court in

spite of the entreaties and expostulations of Prince Geffrey

Plantagenet, and sailed for the Levant. But so it chanced, that falling

grievously sick on the voyage, he lived only till his vessel reached the

shores of Tripoli. The Countess being told that a celebrated poet had

just arrived in her harbour, who was dying for her love, immediately

hastened on board, and taking his hand, entreated him to live for her

sake. Rudel, already speechless, and almost in the agonies of death,

revived for a moment at this unexpected grace; he was just able to

express, by a last effort, the excess of his gratitude and love, and

expired in her arms: thereupon the Countess wept bitterly, and vowed

herself to a life of penance for the loss she had caused to the

world.[11] She commanded that the last song which Rudel had composed in

her honour, should be transcribed in letters of gold, and carried it

always in her bosom; and his remains were inclosed in a magnificent

mausoleum of porphyry, with an Arabic inscription, commemorating his

genius and his love for her.

It is in allusion to this well-known story, that Petrarch has introduced

Rudel into the Trionfo d'Amore.

Gianfre Rudel ch' uso la vela e 'l remo,

A cercar la suo morte.

The song which the minstrel composed when he fell sick on this romantic

expedition, and found his strength begin to fail, and which the Countess

wore, folded within her vest, to the end of her life, is extant, and has

been translated into most of the languages of Europe; of these

translations, Sismondi's is the best, preserving the original and

curious arrangement of the rhymes, as well as the piety, naivete, and

tenderness of the sentiment.

Irrite, dolent partirai

Si ne vois cet amour de loin,

Et ne sais quand je le verrai

Car sont par trop nos terres loin.

Dieu, qui toutes choses as fait

Et formas cet amour si loin,

Donne force a mon coeur, car ai

L'espoir de voir m'amour au loin.

Ah, Seigneur, tenez pour bien vrai

L'amour qu'ai pour elle de loin.

Car pour un bien que j'en aurai

J'ai mille maux, tant je suis loin.

Ja d'autr'amour ne jouirai

Sinon de cet amour de loin--

Qu'une plus belle je n'en scais

En lieu qui soit ni pres ni loin!

Mrs. Piozzi and others have paraphrased this little song, but in a

spirit so different from the antique simplicity of the original, that I

shall venture to give a version, which has at least the merit of being

as faithful as the different idioms of the two languages will allow; I

am afraid, however, that it will not appear worthy of the honour which

the Countess conferred on it.

"Grieved and troubled shall I die,

If I meet not my love afar;

Alas! I know not that I e'er

Shall see her--for she dwells afar.

O God! that didst all things create,

And formed my sweet love now afar;

Strengthen my heart, that I may hope

To behold her face, who is afar.

O Lord! believe how very true

Is my love for her, alas! afar,

Tho' for each joy a thousand pains

I bear, because I am so far.

Another love I'll never have,

Save only she who is afar,

For fairer one I never knew

In places near, nor yet afar."

Bertrand d'Allamanon, whom I have mentioned as the companion of Rudel on

his romantic expedition, has left us a little ballad, remarkable for the

extreme refinement of the sentiment, which is quite a la Petrarque: he

gives it the fantastic title of a _demi chanson_, for a very fantastic

reason: it is thus translated in Millot. (vol. i. 390).

"On veut savoir pourquoi je fais une _demi chanson_? c'est parceque je

n'ai qu'un demi sujet de chanter. Il n'y a d'amour que de ma part; la

dame que j'aime ne veut pas m'aimer! mais au defaut des _oui_ qu'elle me

refuse, je prendrai les _non_ qu'elle me prodigue:--_esperer aupres

d'elle vaut mieux que jouir avec tout autre!_"

This is exactly the sentiment of Petrarch:

Pur mi consola, che morir per lei

Meglio e che gioir d'altra--

But it is one of those thoughts which spring in the heart, and might

often be repeated without once being borrowed.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] Sismondi--Litterature du Midi.

[5]

Thibault fut Roi galant et valoureux,

Ses hauts faits et son rang n'ont rien fait pour sa gloire;

Mais il fut chansonnier--et ses couplets heureux,

Nous ont conserve sa memoire.

ANTHOLOGIE DE MONET.

[6]

If lusty Love should go in quest of beauty,

Where should he find it fairer than in Blanche?

If zealous Love should go in search of virtue,

Where should he find it purer than in Blanche?

If Love, ambitious, sought a match of birth,

Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanche?

[7] La plus honorable recompence qu'on pouvait faire aux dits poetes,

etait qu'on leur fournissait de draps, chevaux, armure, et argent.

[8] Millot, vol. ii. p. 148.

[9] Richard de Barbesieu.

[10] Millot, vol. iii. p. 86.--Ginguene, vol. i. p. 280.

[11] "Depuis ne fut jamais veue faire bonne chere," says the old

chronicle.--I am tempted to add the description of the first and last

interview of the Countess and her lover in the exquisite old French, of

which the antique simplicity and naivete are untranslateable.

"En cet estat fut conduit au port de Trypolly, et la arrive, son

compagnon feist (_fit_) entendre a la Comtesse la venue du Pelerin

malade. La Comtesse estant venue en la nef, prit le poete par la main;

et lui, sachant que c'estait la Comtesse, incontinent apres le doult et

gracieux accueil, recouvra ses esprits, la remercia de ce qu'elle lui

avait recouvre la vie, et lui dict: 'Tres illustre et vertueuse

princesse, je ne plaindrai point la mort oresque'--et ne pouvant achever

son propos, sa maladie s'aigrissant et augmentant, rendit l'esprit entre

les mains de la Comtesse."--_Vies des plus celebres Poetes Provencaux_,

p. 24.