A troubadour poem of love :Jaufr6 Rudel, When D*ys *re Original in Occitan.

{,,ong

in May (c,rrz5*rr5o).

Thn raousaDouRs wERE PoETs and singers who generally worked for courtly patrons. They mighr the.mselves be of che petty nobiliry,likeJaufr Rudel {f. rra5-rr5o), who was the lord of Blaye and a crusader. We have six of his poems, four of them with music. To appre ciate lheir arristry, it is go*d to kneiw how rhey were consrructed in Occilan {or Provengal). This one, for
example, begins; Lanquan li jorn son ionc en rrlay m'es belhs dcus chans d'auzeihs de lonh, e quan mi suy parLiLz de lay renler:rbra'rn d'un' amor de lonh: .

Clearly iorft {far awry) is rhe key word here, and it becomes ever: rnore imporrart as it is repeated over and over. In fact, lonh ends the second and fourth line of every vets except the final one, r;rhen the poet realizes that it is not just distance that keeps him from his love. fsoulce: Lyrks of the Tra*badours rtnd Tloaydres, trans. Frederick Gcldin {Garden Books, r9T3), pp. ro-5-o7.]

Ciry NY: Anchor

When days are longin May,

I *qioy the sr'|reet sang of the birds fir away, when I am parted from thei: song, lhe parting reminds me of a lave far away: I go benr wilh desire, head bowed down; then neither che song nor tbe hawthcrn's flower rne more than the wintel's ice,
shall consider him my lord, in lrulh, the man lets n:.e see this love far away;

Sad and rejoicing

I shall part from her,

when I have seen this lcve far away: bnt when I shall see her I do nct knovr, our lands ar-e very far aNray: there are meny vrays and roads, and I am no prophet ... but as it pleases God!

z5

for one good thing that falls Lo me, gql two evils, for this lave is far away. il I wish I were a piigrim rhere, rtaffand my cioak
d in her beauriful eyes.
y

I shall have no pleasure in iove if it is not the pleasure ofthis love far away" for I do not krrorrr a gentler or a better one
anywbele, nor close by, not far away: hersrorth is trtre, and perfect, so that there , in the kingdom of the Saracens, I wish I were a prisoner for her. God, who rnade everyrhing that coms and goes and formed this lsve far away, give me the power-for I have the heart-

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joy wiil come forth, when I enfreat her

the love of God, thc love far away,

if it pleases her, I shall lodge to her, though ns'rnr I am far away. wirat {ine confen'ing will conre forth, hen ttre lover come fronr afar will be so close shall know the cornforf of her sweet words.

to see this love tbr away face to face, in such pleasant dwellings that the chamber and rhe garden wauld all the while be a palace lo rrry eyes.

4o

6.

r9 leurn-f, nuncl, wr"tEN DAys aRE LoNc rN MAY (c.rre5-rr5o]

38s

He speaks the truth who

saYs

crave

4j

and go desiring this love far awaY, for no other joy pleases me nrore than the rich enjoyment of this love far away' But the parh i$ blocked to nry deure,

for my godfather gavs {ne this fate: I must love and not be loved'

But rhe path is blocked [o mY desire, a great curse on rhis godfarher

rnrho doomed me to be unloved.

6.eo A poem of war: Bertran de Born, I Lwe theloyful Time $zt"h c.). Original in Occitan.
BsnrnaN nu Bop1{ (c.rr4o--bef rar5) was rHf LORD of Hautefortin the Prigordregion af France. Much like Hugh of Lusignan {see above, p. zr3), Berlran was alrnost constantly at warin his case with his brother and with Henry II ofEngland iBerttan was on rhe side of Henry's "We have forty songs written by him. first son, "young Helry").

Ciry NY: Anchor fsource: Lyrits of the Troubadaurs and Traupires. trans- Frederick Goldin {Garden Books, rgzl), pp. 243,245,247.1
I iove the joyful time cfEaster, that makes the leaves and flowers come forlh, and it pleases me lo hear the rnirth of the birds, who make thrir song resound through the woods, and it please$ me to $ee upott the meadows tents and pavilions planted,

And when the armies mix in battle,

each man should be Poised

to followhim, smiling, for no man x worrh a thing

till

he has given and goLte{ blow on blow'

andlfeelagreatjcy when I see ranged along the field

IO

knights and ho$es armed for war.

pieases me when the skirmishers nrake the people and cheir baggage rrr$ away, and it pieases me when I see behind rhem coming a great mass ofarmed men together, I5 and I have pleasure in my heart ,qrheu I see strong castles besieged, the brokea ramparts caving in, and I see the host on the water's edge, closed in all atound by ditches, 2A wirh palisades, strong stakes close together.

furd it

Maces and swords and Painted helnx, the useless shields cut lhrough, we shall see as rhe Gghting starts, and many vassals together striking, and wandering wildly, the unreined horses of the wounded and dead'

And once entered into battle let every man proud of his birdr think only afbreaking arms and heads,

for a man is worth rnore dead than alive and bearcrr' I tell you there is not so much savor in earing or drinking or sleePing, ar when I heat thern scream, "There they are! Let's get lhem!" on bodr si.des, and I hear riderless horses in the shadows, neighing, and I hear them scream, "Help! Help!" and I see themfall arnong the ditches, lictle men and great men on the grass, and I see fixed in rhe flanks of lhe corpses stumps af lances with silken $ttearners,

And I am

as

well pleased by a lord

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when he is first in the attack, armed, upon his horse, unafraid, so he makes his rnen take heart by his own brave lordliness.

390 srx: rNrrrrurroNALrzIrvG

As?rRATroNs {c.rr5o-c"rr5o}

BArons. parfi/n your castles" and your villages, and your cities before you stop making war oh one another.

Papiols, gladly go
fasr

and rell

tc my Lord Yes-and-No1 himhe has lived in peace toc 1cng.

5J

lo1g. ot3.tro\inru: comtessa de T)iu, I'ie Bees in Great Anguish {c.rzoc?). Original in Occitan.
A trobaiitz, i.e,, a fernale troubadour, the Comtessa de Dia was a Foet etffin'amar*courlly, refined iove. We know alrrrost nothing about her except that she has left to us seyeral scngs, one with nrusic. Taking all of these poems top;ethrr (When D*ys we Long in Mny, p.3sg, J Lou* theJoyful Tirxe, p. 3go, and this cne by the Comtessa de Diai discuss rhe theraes that are mo$r i:rrportant irr trouiradour paeffy. fsource: The Writinps oJ- Medieunl Wnren, trans. Marcelle Thi6beux {New York: Garland Publishing, r98?), p- rS8.l

l've beel ia great anguish oyer a noble soldier I once had, and I want erreryone to know, for all time,
rhat I loved hun--too much! Nsw I sse l"rr berrayed because I didn'r yield my love ro him. Far ebat I've sufferecl grearly, both in my bed and ful1y clad.

I'mmore inlove with him than Elancheflor everwas with Floris.z To him I'd give my heart, my love, mymind, my eyes, my life.
eautiful, gracicus, sweel friend, when shall I hold yon in my power? If I could lie with you for ane night, and give you a kiss of love, you carl be sure I would dssire greauiy eo granr you a husband's place, so long as you promised ro do everything I wished!
B

How I'd yearn to have my soldier naked irr rny arms for one nighr! He would feel a frenzy of deiighr tc have cnly me for his pillow.

.Broyn!, fa!lip1: Origirral in

tIrc Piest's cou: and Old French.

rhe priest wko peeleed {r3th c.).

OnrcrNarrNc rN N0RTHERN Fnaxcn and performed by jonglean {who vrere also acrobats, dancers, and jugglers), fabliaux were popuiu entertainment for *11 clesses, though, roday only about r5o are exlant in manuscriprs. Shart, humarous poems, fabliaux **r, ,o*rot to rnake people laugh; they highlighted human foibles and poked fun at peasanrs, women! and-especiaily*priests. The priest fu The Priest who Pe&ed is one of the f** cl*rgy*en who succeeds in his unorous iutentions in a fabliau; lhe poer {Guerin) wants ro show h$rlr the husband is fficked. But in -Srann11 the Priest's Cou {whic.h is by the most famous fablior of *11, Jean Bodel, rr65?-rzrc}, the priest (a different priert) gers his conreuppance fsr his greed. Although rough and bawdy,

r e

Ricl-rard I the Lir:n-Heart {d.rr99), rhe duke cf Aquiiaine.(in sourhetn France) as wbl1 rs king of Engl*nd. Blancheflor and Flcire (or Floris) were fi^mous lovers in a French Romance poern,

6'za gnowNy, Tn,E pRrEsr's cow

A"NI) THE.FRTEsT

wHo pEEKen {r3'rn c,)

j9r

feblianx were qui[e sophisticated paems, each writterr irr rhyming couplets, Fot gxaraple,
begins:
t

Brol,;rlny

D'un vilain conte e[ de sa fame , c'un-icr de fesre Ncstre l)ame Alaient r:urer i l'yglise, Li prestres, devant le servise,

with Darte, I'yglxr wirh serurr; and-as with all fabliaux,*al1 of the lines exaclty eighr syll*bles, Flosr da these poerus pick up some themes of troubadour paetry cantain while at the same time parcdying courtly ideals?
Here Jane rhymes

[Source: Cucfrolds, Cferiu, &'Countrymen: Medieva{ Ftenilz. Fabliaux, trarx. Joh-n Du Va1, ed. RaymondEichmann {Feyertevilie: lJrriversity of Arkansas Press, r98z), pp. 3r-32, 45-46.]

Browny, the Priut's Caw

IZ

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Once, on blessed Mary's day, A peasant took his wife to pray And celebrate the nrass in lown. Before the office, the priesr carne down And turned to the peaple to deliver His sermon: Blessed be rhe giver -Who gives for love of Gad in heaven. God will recurri what has been giverr Dauble to hiru. wh.ose hearr is true . "My wife!" the peasant said, "Did you Hear lvhat the parson up drere said? 'Whoever gives for Gocl will get The gi{t returned and multipliedl What better use cculd we decide For aur cow, Berny than to give her To God through the priest? Besides, she never Did give much milk. She's not much good." "'Iffell," said the wife, "I guess wfi should, Siace rhat's a facc. Let's take lhat cour And give her to the parsonnow'" They ro.se at once and left tagether. '!X/hen they got home, the farmer rethere d His cow and led her &orn the shed And topk her back f<: town aud sard To the priest, whcse nrrrre -was Constant, "Sir, F{ere's my coru'Berrry. I'm giving her Tb you because I love rhe L*rd-'" He handed him the tether cor:d

And swore that she was all he had. "That's wise irrdeed," the parlon said, Who night and day kepl cateful watch For any handout he could cafch. "fFell clone, nry son. In tr]eace depart. If all nry parish were as snrarf And sensible as ycu, there'd be Plenry of *nirnals for me." The farmer left ancl made his jcurney Home tc his wife. The priest gave Serny To cne cf his clerks to be secured To lris cow, Srcwny, till they were sure She felt rt home. The clerk pulled hard And brought the cow to the backyard And got the priest's fat caw and tied Berny and Brcwny side by side, Then turned around and left tlre cows. The parson'$ cow preferr.ed to browse, And'bent her head to keep on chewing, But Berny balked: nn, nathing dai-ng. She pulied the tether good a,nd hard, Dragging her out of the priest's yard, Past houses and hemp fields, over bridges, Thraugh mead*ws and hedges, hi1ls and ditches Till horne she carne to her own backyard. The parsonk cow, who heid back hard The whole long way, came dragging after. The farnerlooked outside, and laughter Fiiled hjs heart- He gave a cheer. 'lHeyl " he shouted, "Look, my dear! '

ti
Irl

4
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I
I

{
tl

lg? srx: rNsrrruTrowAlrztNG

A$prRATroNs {c,rr5o-c.rrgo}

how the good Lortl multiPlies' 'rBerny back *ndBerny lwrcev the second's brown, and bigger! ,'r r*o for one the waY I figure' nsw our barn's not big enough'" Mylords, this fabliau is Proof ts faolish rot l0 give all Yoa own' good things come frcm God alone' are nol buried in the groundventuted, norhing found, nothing rnultiPlied. That's how blessed the rn'*n r"qhc risked his cow: for lhe Pealanr, none for the Priest, those who have the most' get least'
Frie.st

He pounded at the doorrntay' crylng, "Fley thete, gocd peoplel You insidel .What yoo doing?" The ruan teplied, "r* urete eating' Why not come "Faith, Sir, In here tc join us and have scme?" What a iie! I'mlooking -"Eating? Straight thro.rgh this hole at you' You're fuckrng'" said the Feasant} "Believe me,
.We're -t{$g5!1}' ealing, Sir, as You can see'" "I'11 eat m;r hat' -*{Tfyou al," s*id lhe priesr, thatl see You're fucking, Sir- I can Dcrr'[ try to ralk me oul af it'

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+0

Who

Peeleed

Why not let me go in and sit? You stand out here and do the spying' And let rne know rf I've been iYing Abour uhe light I'm looking at'"
Tbe pbasanr leapt from rnlhere Le sat, Ijnlocked the door and hurr-ied out' The priest ceme in, turned about, Shur and latched and boired the door' Flowever hard the Peasant bore The sight r:fit, the Parson sPed To the peasanL's wife. He caught her head, Tripped her uP and laid her down' Up to her chest he Pulled her gown And did of all good deeds lhe one Thatwomen everYwhere want done' Hb bumped and bettered rryith such force The peasant's wife had no reccurse But let him get rqrhar he was seeking' And there the otber rnao wa$r peeking Ar the little hale, through which he spied His love1y wife's exPosed backside And the priest, riding on top of her' "M"y God Ahnightl helP Yor, Sir," The peasant called, "Is this a joke?" The parson turned his head and spoke: o'Ne, I'm not joking' Wh*t's dre m*tter? Dcn'c You see: I have Your Platter' I'rn eating suFper at Youl- lable'" "Lord, this is like t dream ar fable' If I weren't hearing it frorn You, I never would believe it true Thar you aren't fucking wich nry wife'" "I'm not, Sir! Hush! As God's mY 1ife,

+4

you will kindlY listen:rell I my next tale, I'd like to tell

short and courtly fablian

48

Guerrn has ig. Long ago

iived a peasan[ who hed wed maiden courtetrlls, well bred, ise, beautiful, of goodlY trirth' cherished her fbr alt his worth fi.nd did his best tc keep her pleased' lady loved the Parish Priest, \Fho was her onlY hearl"s desire' priesr himself was ss a{re 'With love for her that he decided ilo tell iris love and not to hide it' of he starled, running hard' As he came rnnning through lheir yard, The peasant and his wife were sitting Together af *re tthle eating' bhe priest neifher called their narne nar knocke cl' He tried the door. The door was locked Andbolted tight. H* looked around And up and down until he found A hole to spy tl:rough and was able To see the peasanl at the table" Eating and drinking as she served. The priest indignanrly observed The way the peasant led his life' Taking no pleasure r:f his wife. Andwhen he'd h*d enough of sPYing,

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64

68

76

5,2 1 BRoril'NY, TIiIE PRTEST' s

cow .ilI.{D TI{E PRrEsr wII0 PEEr(tn {r3rx c')

193

I rhought I saw you dc'" The peasant said, "I guess *rar's true."
Thet's what That's how the peasarc gol confused,
8o Bewitched, befuddled, and

con

sed,

And didn't even feel rhe Pain' Beceuse of the door, j.t still is said, "Many a foslby God is fed." Here ends the fabliru of the priesr. The End: Amen.

By the priest aad by his own weak brain

39+ sIx:

TN,TTTTUTI*NALIZTNG ASFIRAT1ONS {C.ir5o-C.rZ5o)